An Angel With No Fate
by Vampiric Ant
Summary: The Cycle continues. War threatens the world. Machines rise against Man. Judgment Day draws near. And Kara Thrace's destiny is far from over. BSG/TSCC crossover. Post Daybreak. Lots of spoilers. John/Cameron. Chapter 72 up finally . Read and review!
1. Sarah's New Neighbor

Disclaimer: I don't own BSG or Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles.

Summary: The Cycle continues. War threatens the world. Machines rise against Man. Judgment Day draws near. And Kara Thrace's destiny is far from over.

Rating: T - Mainly for violence and language. Also some moderate sexual references.

Pairings: Mostly John/Cameron, but also Kara/OC. Also mentions of Sarah/Kyle.

Other notes: Contains major spoilers for the BSG finale, and a lot of spoilers for TSCC in general. Takes place post BSG finale and after the events of TSCC's "Today is the Day, Part II."

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**Chapter 1 - Sarah's New Neighbor**

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_All of this has happened before and all of this will happen again.  
There is no fate but what we make for ourselves._

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**Los Angeles, California  
May 9, 2009**

Another day, another move in the life of Sarah Connor. She and her son were always on the move. As a rule of life, they never remained in one place for very long, as overstaying one's welcome tended to lead to trouble - a fact which they had been painfully reminded of recently.

_Riley didn't have to die,_ Sarah thought sadly. _The poor kid may have been trouble, but she was just a pawn. If only we had known the truth sooner..._

At that moment, Sarah was packing the last remaining essentials into a cardboard box. She was running behind schedule at the moment, having just finished a heated argument with Derek Reese, John's uncle and a Resistance fighter from the future, and the cyborg girl everyone called Cameron. It had all started when Sarah refused to tell Derek and Cameron exactly where she and John were going. When asked for a reason, Sarah told them what they should have already known: She didn't trust them.

When Derek had begun to protest about being ditched, Sarah explained that neither he nor Cameron were being totally cut out of the loop. She would maintain regular contact with them, and would continue to call on them for assistance when needed. The difference was that they would no longer be in any position to compromise John's safety.

The discussion should have ended right there. Instead, however, the three of them had spent the next twenty minutes arguing back and forth about the "tactical soundness" of Sarah's plan. They probably would have gone on for longer if John hadn't conveniently showed up and asked for Cameron's help in cleaning out the garage. Not wanting to be left alone with an irate Sarah, Derek had suddenly remembered to go back and make sure all the weapons in the house had been accounted for.

_Tactical soundness my ass, _Sarah silently fumed to herself. _Was it tactically sound for Cameron to hide all those endoskeleton pieces? Was it tactically sound for Derek to let his murderous girlfriend run around jeopardizing out security? Explain to me what made all that tactically sound, and _then_ we can talk about my tactical soundness. _

Having finished packing the box, Sarah folded the flaps together and lifted it off the ground with both hands. As Sarah walked out the door and began descending the flight of stairs leading to the van, she began wondering if she was really being fair. The truth was that she herself shared some of the blame for all the mishaps they had experienced.

_Still, it's better this way - for everyone - John, Derek, Cameron and me_, she thought, _Besides you can never stay in one place for very long in this world. Especially if you want to save it._

She and John were always running. From the day Sarah had given birth to John, they had been hunted by Skynet, the computer program that would one day declare war on the human race. And likewise Sarah and John had hunted Skynet. The two of them had gone so far as to travel nine years into their future to destroy Skynet before it was born. And of course, Skynet's agents had followed, intent on killing her son and sealing the fate of mankind. Sometimes Sarah felt that she and Skynet were like a dog chasing its own tail in a circle.

Unfortunately, while Sarah was contemplating all this, she failed to watch her step and stumbled midway down the stairs. She managed to keep her balance, but the box flew out of her hands and tumbled the rest of the way down. It finally came to a rest at the bottom of the stairs, but not before releasing its contents all over the pavement.

"Damn it!" Sarah cursed her negligence and scrambled to pick everything up before someone got curious enough to take a look. After all, she didn't want everyone to know about her obsession with homemade explosives. Or for that matter any of her other unusual hobbies.

"Hey, need any help?"

Startled, Sarah looked up and saw a young woman with shoulder-length blond hair looking down at her. _Oh crap._

"No thank you," Sarah said hastily as she did her best to block the spilled items from the woman's view. She managed to scoop everything up in her arms and dump them all back in the box. "I'm fine, really." Sarah added as she started to fold the box lids. Unfortunately, the box wouldn't close properly now.

"I just moved into the neighborhood," the blond woman said with a cheerful grin. "And actually, you're the first person I've met here."

"Really? That's funny," Sarah said as she struggled to close the box. "You're actually going to be the _last_ person I meet here."

"You're moving out?" the woman frowned.

"Don't worry. Nothing wrong with the neighborhood. I just got a job in another state," Sarah lied. "I'm afraid I won't be of much help to you. But I'm sure the people over there-" she pointed to a random house on the other side of the street, "-would be more than happy to show you around the place." At the same time, she tried to mentally convey: _Please take the hint, lady and go away._

"Well, thanks anyway," the woman smiled before adding. "You sure you don't need help with that box?"

"No - no. I'm fine. _Really_," Sarah insisted, now losing her patience with both the box and her new neighbor.

As Sarah spoke, she quickly did what Cameron would call a "threat assessment." The woman appeared to be in her late twenties to early thirties, definitely no older than thirty-five. Her face's complexion was naturally flawless without a hint of makeup or any other cosmetics. A pair of hazel green eyes went well with the blond hair and the pale, but healthy skin. Most men would find her quite attractive, despite her somewhat untidy hair and the rather shabby grey sweater and cargo pants she wore. And most importantly, if the woman had noticed or had taken any interest in what was in the box, she clearly wasn't showing it.

Sarah finally gave up trying to get the box closed and decided to properly deal with it later. Lifting the box off the ground, she hurried over to the van and popped open the trunk. Without even bothering to see if there was enough room, she dumped the box inside and slammed the trunk shut.

Sarah turned around and saw that the woman was still standing there. She was certainly persistent. At least she hadn't seen anything.

Sarah gave the woman her best fake smile and pleasantly said, "It was nice meeting you. I'm sorry that we won't be seeing each other again. But I'm sure you'll make a lot of new friends here."

She started walking back towards the house.

"Actually, there is something you could help me with. Are you Sarah Connor?"

Sarah froze in horror, her heart having momentarily stopped. It then started beating again at twice its normal rate. Reflexes and adrenaline kicked in. Every fiber and every nerve in Sarah's body suddenly stood ready for battle. The loaded Browning HP handgun Sarah kept concealed in the waistband of her jeans flew into her hands as she spun around to face her enemy. Within a matter of seconds, Sarah had her weapon trained on the blond woman's head.

The stranger blinked a couple times, but other than that, she did nothing to indicate that she was surprised or frightened.

"I'll take that as a yes," was all she said.

It quickly dawned on Sarah that she shouldn't be seen out in the open like this. She lowered her weapon slightly. After looking around to make sure no one else was watching, Sarah walked up to the woman.

"Let's go have a chat inside, shall we?" Sarah whispered, jabbing the barrel of the gun into the woman's ribs. "Stay in front of me, keep your hands where I can see them, and don't make any sudden movements. Got it?"

"Yeah, I got it. Don't freak out, okay?" the woman said.

"Getting moving, lady," Sarah hissed.

The mystery woman nodded and slowly walked towards the house with Sarah close behind. The moment they were inside, Sarah shut the door and locked it.

"Face the wall, put your hands up against it, and spread your legs," Sarah ordered.

The woman did as she was told. Sarah put her gun back in her pants and started patting the woman down. Once satisfied there was nothing hidden on her, Sarah spun the mystery woman around by the shoulder so that they could see each other face-to-face. She pulled out her weapon again and trained it on the woman's forehead.

"Alright miss, who are you and what do you want?" Sarah growled menacingly. She switched off the safety and tightened a finger around the trigger. "You've got exactly ten seconds to give me a good answer. Start talking _now_."

"Fair enough," the woman said calmly. "My name's Kara Thrace. And I'm here to help you save the world."

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**To be continued...**


	2. Interlude: Eight Hours Previously

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

A/N: Thanks for the feedback, everyone!

Here's Chapter 2. Enjoy! Please R&R.

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**Chapter 2 - Interlude: Eight Hours Previously**

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**Los Angeles  
May 9th, 2009  
Eight hours ago...**

Kara Thrace had had many unpleasant experiences in her life. Like right now, for example. Granted, she had gone through worse - but nevertheless, her current situation was definitely one she hoped never to repeat.

At that very moment, Kara was lying flat on her stomach on a cold, rough surface. Her body was hurting all over as if it were being pricked by a million tiny needles. She couldn't move an inch. Her muscles simply refused to cooperate. She couldn't see anything. A loud buzzing sound was all that she could hear. And to top it all off, she was completely naked. Kara couldn't remember the last time she had felt this vulnerable.

Then things began to settle down. The buzzing in her ears gradually faded. Her vision slowly returned. The aches in her body eased up little bit by bit. Her legs and arms gradually began to respond again. Slowly and painfully, Kara pulled herself off the ground and took in her surroundings.

She was in the middle of a dark and filthy alley. It was in the dead of night and Kara could hardly see anything despite having regained her vision. The air around her had a foul burning smell to it - no doubt the result of her recent arrival. It was also cold. _Extremely_ cold. Her lack of clothing certainly didn't help matters.

Her breath visible in the frigid air, Kara cautiously walked down the alley shivering like crazy as she did. Bits of garbage were strewn all over the place. One particular item caught her attention - a torn page from a discarded newspaper. Kara knelt down and picked the crinkled page up. A quick scan of the paper yielded what she was looking for: the year it had been printed. It read "2009."

"Frak me," muttered Kara. She tossed the paper aside and stood up again.

"_Okay, I'm really here. No body parts lost during the trip,"_ she thought. _"Now I need to find some clothes before I freeze to death."_

Easier said than done, of course. It wasn't as if there was going to be a shiny red box full of warm clothes waiting for her with the words "For Kara Thrace" painted on it. She was going to have to improvise. And quickly. Her body was fully exposed to the harsh elements, and even someone with her endurance could only last so long under such conditions.

Just then she heard a shout, followed by a scream. Kara tensed and looked around for the source of the noise. She prayed that her arrival hadn't been anticipated. If she had already walked into an ambush, she had nothing to defend herself with except her fists, feet, and teeth. Nothing came out of the shadows, however. There was more screaming and shouting. The commotion seemed to be coming from somewhere farther down the alley.

Trying to be as stealthy as possible, Kara followed the noises down the dark alley. She turned a corner and saw the source of the ruckus. A large angry man was in the process of throttling a frightened young woman who he had pinned against a brick wall. The man was shouting incoherently and the woman was sobbing uncontrollably making it impossible to tell what the hell was going on. After quickly analyzing the situation from a distance, Kara devised a simple plan of action and slowly made her move.

The man was busy yelling and slapping the poor woman who continued wailing like a baby. Neither of them noticed Kara's approach. The man raised his hand to strike again when suddenly it was caught from behind. Before the man could react, Kara brought her elbow crashing down on his arm. There was a sickening, wet snapping sound followed by a howl of agony. The man's cries of pain were cut short by a swift punch to the jaw, followed by another blow to his nose. Blood splattered everywhere. Kara then grabbed the man by the back of the neck and violently shoved him face-first into the brick wall. The man bounced off and fell flat on his back. He didn't get up. Kara was confident he wouldn't be getting up anytime soon.

Kara grinned victoriously. Splash one! The element of surprise never failed.

The woman had stopped crying now. She just stared silently unable to believe what had just happened. Finally, she managed to start speaking.

"Oh my God!" she stammered. "D-did you kill him?"

"No," Kara calmly said. "Although that notion certainly did come to mind. Are you ok?"

"I-I think... W-who are you?" the frightened woman sputtered. "And why the hell are you naked?"

"Believe me, this was _not_ my idea," Kara responded dryly. She knelt down and began stripping the unconscious man of his clothes.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" demanded the woman.

"Getting dressed. What else would I be doing?" Kara sardonically replied.

"You can't just take his clothes!" the woman protested.

"Why the frak do you care?" Kara sneered.

"He's my boyfriend!" the woman retorted.

Kara rolled her eyes. Even after tens of thousands of years the human race was still dealing with the same shit.

"Look, whoever you are, you can't just leave him like this!" the woman angrily shouted. "He needs an ambulance!" She pulled a cell phone out of her purse and began dialing.

"NO!" Kara snatched the phone out of the woman's hand and hurled it away.

"What the hell, lady? You can't-"

Kara cut her off abruptly. "You-," she snarled dangerously, "-are in no position to tell me what I can and cannot do. So keep your mouth shut if you don't want to get your ass kicked like your boyfriend! Do we have an understanding?"

The terrified woman whimpered and nodded. She stepped back several feet trying to avoid Kara's menacing glare. Even when naked and freezing her ass off, Kara could still maintain a very formidable appearance.

Satisfied she had gotten her point across, Kara resumed her task. Soon Kara was fully clothed, having stripped the unconscious man of everything except his boxers (she hadn't bothered to go there). It wasn't entirely perfect. The man's clothes were several sizes too large forcing her to roll up the sleeves and hems of the sweater and pants several times. The shoes were definitely too big for her, and the man hadn't worn any socks. But it was still better than nothing and one had to make do with what they got in life.

"Ah. That's much better," she said to herself when she was all done. Kara straightened herself out and turned to the cowering woman. She backed her against the wall and marched right up to her until their noses were almost touching. Kara fixed the woman with a cold stare and - for dramatic effect - remained silent for several long seconds.

"Okay, now hear this," Kara finally said breaking the ominous silence, "I was _never_ here. You _never_ saw me. We _never_ had this conversation. I do not exist. Not then. Not now. Not _ever_. Am I perfectly clear?"

The terrified woman nodded.

Having finished her business here, Kara turned and walked away. She quickly exited the alley and stepped into the middle of a street and beheld Los Angeles in all its glory. Resisting the urge to marvel at the numerous skyscrapers and city lights, Kara instead checked the wristwatch she had stolen from the man in the alley. It read "_12:07 AM - Sat. 05/09/09_".

"_So far so good,"_ she thought. _"I'm in the right place at the right time, and I'm clothed. With any luck the rest of this job will go just as smoothly."_

Somehow she doubted it though...

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A/N2:

Whas'up: This is mostly a Kara-centric fic. It will actually involve more characters from TSCC than BSG. However, several other BSG characters besides Kara will be playing major roles in this fic. There will also be a number of cameo appearances and flashbacks.

scifiaddict: I'm not sure if I'm going to involve Sam that much in this. However, as far as canon goes, a lot of the BSG mythology will play heavily into the TSCC mythology.

blondevor: Yes, part of the reason why I chose to combine these two shows is because Kara Thrace and Sarah Connor share a number of personality traits. But don't expect them to become friends anytime soon. After all, both women have an attitude of "it's my way or the highway." ;)


	3. There's No News Like Bad News

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

A/N: I would greatly appreciate any feedback.

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**Chapter 3 - There's No News Like Bad News**

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"My name's Kara Thrace. And I'm here to help you save the world."

Sarah just stared at Kara, her expression unreadable. She kept her gun trained on Kara's head. Neither woman said anything for several seconds. Finally, Sarah spoke.

"Right..." she said, "That's very dramatic. But I'm afraid you'll have to do better than that."

"Listen," Kara said trying to remain as calm as possible, "I know who you are. I know what you're trying to do. I was sent here to help you."

"Who sent you?" Sarah asked, still holding Kara at gunpoint.

Kara raised her eyebrows. "John Connor. Who else?"

"That's what I want to know," replied Sarah.

"Well, Skynet didn't send me," Kara retorted.

Sarah shook her head. "I've already figured out you're not a machine. But how do I know you're not with the authorities?"

"Would a cop just walk up to you and ask 'Are you Sarah Connor'?" Kara asked rhetorically.

"Point taken," Sarah acknowledged. She paused before asking, "What year are you from?"

"2027."

"I figured so. Everyone seems who comes back seems to be from that year. You got here just in time. How'd you know we'd be moving today?"

"Actually, I didn't know you were moving," Kara answered honestly. "I guess I just got really lucky."

"Did you?"

Kara was starting to get exasperated. She had been warned that Sarah Connor could be paranoid at times, but she hadn't expected _this_ level of paranoia.

"Listen, can you please stop pointing that gun at me?" Kara asked. "There isn't much t-"

"I'm still not satisfied," Sarah interrupted, "Even if you really were sent back by John, I'm not necessarily about to trust you."

Kara opened her mouth to reply, when a familiar face entered the room.

She sighed with relief. "Just the person I needed."

Derek Reese stopped dead in his tracks.

"I'll be damned..." he muttered. "Is that you, Starbuck?"

Kara grinned. "Long time no see, Reese," she quipped.

"Another one of your secret girlfriends, Derek?" Sarah asked not taking her eyes off Kara.

"No, not really," Derek replied quickly.

"Not unless you count that one time we got trapped inside an old wine cellar for three full days and there was nothing to drink but-" Kara cut herself off. "Never mind that. Listen, Reese, will you _please_ get Sarah to _stop pointing her frakking gun at me_? I don't want to die the victim of the person I was sent to _help_."

"Not so fast, Starbuck," Derek said. "I need to ask you something first. Judgment Day. What's the date?"

"Why? Did you forget?"

"No," Derek answered stiffly, "I'm asking if _you_ know it. I want to see if you're really who you say you are."

Kara raised her eyebrows. "What kind of test question is that?" she asked."It's not like a machine wouldn't know when J-Day was. They're the _reason_ it happened."

"Just answer the question," Derek insisted.

"Look, I don't get what y-"

"Answer the damn question, Thrace!" Derek snapped. "Or I may shoot you myself!"

Kara looked as if she had been hit in the face with a frying pan. She then groaned and threw her hands up in frustration before finally giving Derek what he wanted.

"April 21st, 2011," she answered tersely. "Happy now?"

Derek sighed with relief.

"Put the gun away, Sarah," he said. "She's on our side."

Sarah didn't move. "Is she?"

"I know her well enough to be certain of that," Derek assured her.

"After everything that's happened to us, Derek, I'm not quite sure if _you're_ on our side," Sarah retorted.

"For the love of God, Sarah," Derek growled with annoyance. "Will you please just listen to me?"

"No, you listen, Reese!" Sarah shot back, turning her face away from Kara for the first time. "I won't put up with any more of your sh-"

Sarah never finished her statement. Having had enough of this nonsense, Kara decided to take matters - as well as Sarah's gun - into her own hands. Kara moved so fast that by the time either Sarah or Derek realized what had happened, Sarah was staring into the barrel of her own gun.

Derek swiftly drew his own weapon.

"Drop it!" he barked.

Kara lowered the gun as if nothing had happened.

"Relax, Reese," she smirked. "If I was actually going to shoot her, I would have taken _you_ out first."

She then turned her attention back to Sarah who seemed to be trying to save what was left of her pride. Kara placed the gun back in Sarah's hand, but didn't fully relinquish it just yet.

Kara looked Sarah right in the eye and firmly stated, "John Connor sent me here to help you. And whether you like it or not, that's what I intend to do." She then released her grip on the weapon.

Sarah slowly placed the gun back in the waistband of her pants.

"I just hope your definition of 'help' is the same as mine," she eventually said.

The situation having finally resolved itself, Derek put his weapon away. He shook his head and sighed, "I've forgotten how crazy you can be, Starbuck."

"Some things never change, do they?" Kara chuckled.

Before Derek could reply, a certain sixteen-year-old boy entered the room.

"Hey Mom, we're done with the garage. Are you ready to go?"

"Not quite yet," Sarah replied.

The boy looked around. "What's going on?" he asked.

Kara had a pretty good idea who this was.

"John Connor?" she said.

"Uh... Yeah. That's me... " the future leader of Mankind replied. "Mom... Derek... who is this?"

"Another one of your soldiers from the future, apparently." Sarah said. "She's here to help us." There was a tinge of sarcasm on the word "help."

"She's not just any soldier."

Out from behind John stepped his beautiful and equally lethal cyborg protector that everyone called Cameron.

"She's Colonel Kara Thrace. Commander of Tech Com Spec-Ops and tactical adviser to John Connor."

"I could have told them that," Derek whispered loudly.

Cameron ignored him as usual.

"Where did you find her?" she asked Sarah.

"Actually, Cam," Kara said, "I found them."

Cameron acknowledged Kara's presence with a nod.

"You got here just in time, Thrace," she stated in her usual monotonic voice.

Kara gave the cyborg girl a friendly smile.

"Glad to see you too, Cam," she said winking her eye.

Derek sighed and shook his head. He couldn't fathom how some people could delude themselves into thinking these things should be treated like humans when it was blatantly obvious that they were nothing even remotely human. Skynet's spawn were all the same: soulless machines designed to spread death and destruction wherever they went. And as unforgivable as Jesse's actions may have been, Derek at least understood her motives.

"Where's everyone else?" Kara asked interrupting Derek's thoughts.

"What do you mean?" asked Derek.

"The other three who came back with you, Reese," Kara said. "Sayles. Sumner. Timms. Where are they?"

"Dead. All of them," Derek replied flatly. "A metal got them months ago."

"Sorry to hear that," Kara said grimly. "So, it's just been the four of you all this time?"

John shrugged. "More or less," he said.

"When were you sent back?" Cameron inquired.

"About a month after you were sent," Kara answered, "I very nearly didn't get sent back at all. About a week before I left, a Triple-Eight broke into our TDE facility. Disguised itself as one of our bubble techs and set the main TDE generator on overload."

"It was trying to vaporize the base," Cameron surmised.

Kara nodded. "Exactly."

"Christ!" exclaimed Derek. "Please don't tell me it succeeded."

"It didn't. We took out the infiltrator and stopped the overload just before it hit critical," Kara said. "Unfortunately, the time machine itself was wrecked. And I mean beyond repair. Completely unsalvageable."

"That Temporal Displacement Device was the only one we had. How was the Resistance able to construct a new device in only a week?" Cameron asked.

"We didn't," said Kara. "I came through in one of Skynet's time machines. The one at Alpha-Omega."

Derek looked as if she had just made a really bad joke. "You're kidding, right?" he said.

Kara shook her head. "No, I'm not."

"Listen, Starbuck," Derek said, "I know you're good. I know you're crazy. But no way in hell are you _that_ good. Nor are you _that_ crazy."

"Your lack of faith disappoints me, Reese."

"What's Alpha-Omega?" John asked curiously.

"Skynet's primary research and development center located in San Fransisco," explained Cameron. "It's the second most heavily guarded facility next to Cheyenne Mountain. Considered impossible for any human to infiltrate."

"Until recently that is," said Kara with a smirk.

Derek shook his head. "How the hell did you pull something like this off, Starbuck? How'd you even get Connor to let you do this?"

"Well, it wasn't as hard as you think, Reese. You see-"

Sarah cut in. "Alright, that's enough," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand, "Let's just can the war stories and get back to the _present_ shall we?"

She turned to Kara. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone clearly indicating that any vestiges of patience were gone.

Kara took a deep breath and said, "Skynet knows that you're here, Sarah. It knows what you and John are trying to do. And it's launching a counterattack."

"Skynet's sending another Triple-Eight after us?" John said.

"Not _a_ Triple-Eight," Kara corrected him, "Triple-Eight_s_."

Derek cursed. "_Two_ Triple-Eights?" he exclaimed.

Kara shook her head. "Go higher," she said.

John grimaced. "Three?"

Kara shook her head again.

"How many?" Sarah asked.

"A whole squad," Kara said quietly.

Derek gaped in horror. He looked like he might throw up. John and Sarah knew that this was a bad sign. A very bad sign.

Sarah then asked the question no one wanted to ask: "How many is that?"

She braced herself for the answer she knew she wouldn't like. Neither Kara nor Derek seemed to have the heart to tell her.

It was Cameron who spoke up this time.

"Six," she said.

John looked positively ill.

"_Six_?" he groaned. "Six Triple-Eights?"

"Six Triple-Eights," Cameron confirmed. She paused for a moment and then added, "At least."

Sarah turned to Kara and asked, "When is Skynet sending them?"

Kara couldn't lie: "It already has."

No one spoke. An invisible cloud of doom and despair seemed to settle in the room. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Sarah broke the silence.

"You know, there are days that I really hate this job."

TBC

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Well, what do you think? Read and Review.


	4. A Plan and a Lack of Progress

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Would really appreciate feedback, you guys

* * *

Kara figured there was no point in waiting for everyone to recover from the bombshell she had just dropped. She cleared her throat and began speaking again, her voice calm and her expression neutral.

"I was sent here not only to warn you all about the attack, but also to intercept and destroy the strike force." she explained. "With your help." she added.

"If the Triple-Eights haven't already joined up, there's a chance we could take a few of them out one at a time." Derek suggested.

"Assuming we can find any them before they find us." John pointed out.

Kara shook her head. "No, you guys don't understand." she said, "The entire platoon was sent back from Alpha Omega at the same time."

"That can't be right." Cameron stated, "It takes at least twice as much power to send a single Triple-Eight back than it does a human. The amount of power required to transport six Triple-Eights would be-"

"A lot. I know." Kara finished the statement.

"And even if they managed to harness that much energy, the stress would render the temporal device useless for future journeys." Cameron added.

"The thing was in its death throes when we found it." Kara said, "But it had enough life to send a single person back."

"How was Skynet able to generate the power it needed for this operation?" Cameron asked.

Kara took a deep breath. "That's the thing you're not going to believe." she said, "The entire base was shut down except for the room with the time machine. Every power source was being rerouted to that room. We even found deactivated HKs and Endos that had been literally plugged into the machine."

"So that's how you were able get into Alpha Omega." Derek realized.

Kara nodded. "It really wasn't that difficult with all the defenses offline."

"So Skynet just gives up one of its largest, most heavily fortified installations, just like that?" Derek asked incredulously, "And all to send six Triple-Eights after us?"

"Well, I don't blame it." Kara smiled, "After all you four have been here killing it in the cradle."

"I guess we've made a lot more progress here than I thought." Sarah mused.

Kara's smile vanished. "What do you mean?"

"We haven't actually done much in terms of stopping Judgment Day, unfortunately." Sarah informed her.

Kara was clearly not expecting this.

"Have you discovered how to stop it then?" she asked.

"We've discovered a few possible clues." Cameron responded truthfully.

"_A few possible clues_? Is that it?" Kara looked appalled. Sarah would have found her reaction highly amusing if the situation wasn't so serious.

"Yeah. I know. Disappointing isn't it?" Sarah said sardonically, "You see, we've been running into certain problems lately. It's all kind of hard to explain-" She shot a glare at Derek. "-but I'm sure Derek has time to tell you now that he's no longer running around with that girlfriend of his."

"Leave Jesse out of this!" snapped Derek.

"Don't tell me you're _still_ gonna defend that woman, Derek!" Sarah shot back.

John held up his hands. "Can we please talk about this _later_?" he insisted. He then turned to Kara and asked, "What exactly were you expecting?"

"Well, actually _you_ were expecting that you would be close to destroying Skynet by now." Kara responded grimly.

"Why would Future Me think that?" John asked.

"Because Skynet thinks so." Kara explained. "Otherwise it wouldn't have sacrificed an installation as important as Alpha Omega to come after you."

"It probably just doesn't want to take any chances." John suggested, "I don't really blame it. After all, Skynet has tried to do the same thing to _me_."

"It's more than just paranoia." Kara said, "Skynet is _scared_. _Real scared_. When we took Alpha Omega, we found a partial message left in the database. It was a series of mission orders given to the Triple-Eight attack force just before they were sent through."

"What did it say?" Cameron asked.

"We weren't able to decode much," Kara said, "but we did make out the words: _Temporal altercations in progress: Category Delta-Red_."

"What does that mean?" John asked.

"It means Skynet believes that someone or something is altering the timeline in a way that threatens its very existence." Cameron explained.

John paused to think about all this.

"You're sure it's talking about us?" John said.

"Who else would it be talking about?" Kara asked.

"Okay, maybe it's talking about a year from now." John suggested.

"No," Kara said, "The message also said: _ Terminate targets within twelve standard days of arrival. Use any actions necessary_."

"So, whatever it is that Skynet thinks we're going to do, we're supposed to do it the next two weeks?" John asked.

Kara nodded. "That's what Skynet thinks anyway." She paused before asking, "Can you guys think of anything you might be doing in the next twelve days that would make Skynet wet itself?"

Everyone shook their heads.

Kara sighed. "Great. Just frakking great." she grumbled, "My job just got a lot more complicated."

"Excuse me, but no one gave us a timetable." Sarah retorted.

John intervened before another argument could begin. "The fact," he stated loudly, "is that we have at least six Triple-Eights coming after us right now. We need to come up with a plan, and we need to do it _fast_."

Both Sarah and Kara nodded in agreement.

"I assume Skynet knows our location." Sarah asked.

Kara nodded. "I think that's a given."

"Alright then," Sarah said trying to remain cool, "It's a good thing we were already going to leave today. First, we need to get John to a safe house. The rest of us will then gather as many weapons as we can and meet back here. When the Triple-Eights show up, we'll be ready for them."

"And you can sure as hell bet that they'll be ready for us." Derek countered, "I doubt all six are just going to march single file into the house."

"What should we be expecting?" Sarah asked Cameron.

"If they follow standard siege protocols, first they'll establish a perimeter to block off any escape routes." Cameron began to explain. "They'll then send in a single scout to analyze our defenses. Once they've determined our strength, they'll split into two groups. The first half will attack simultaneously from different directions in an attempt to spread us all out.

"The other half," she continued, "will patrol the perimeter, watching for anyone attempting to escape, as well as serving as a secondary assault team should the first group encounter any heavier-than-expected resistance."

Things looked grim and John knew it. "I don't think waiting for them to come to us is going to work, Mom." he said.

"We may not have a choice." Cameron replied, "For all we know, they could be watching us right now."

Kara shook her head. "No, they're not." she said.

Sarah stared at her. "How can you be so sure?" she asked.

"They haven't even arrived yet." Kara replied.

"I thought you said Skynet had already sent them." Derek said, frowning in confusion.

"I was sent back after the task force had already left but I was sent to a point in time twenty-four hours _prior_ to their _arrival_." Kara explained.

"When did you get here?" John asked.

"Midnight, I think." Kara replied.

"Then we're fifteen hours, forty-three minutes, twelve seconds away from the incursion point." Cameron stated.

Kara shrugged. "You're better at math than me, Cam." she said.

"Would it have killed you, Thrace, to have arrived last week instead?" Sarah asked darkly.

"The only other temporal fissure we found was three months away," said Kara, slightly annoyed, "Would you have rather I taken that one instead?"

"Temporal fissure?" asked John.

"Never mind," said Kara. "Anyway, getting back to the subject at hand, John's right. We can't wait for those things to walk up to us. We have to bring the fight to them instead."

"Explain," said Cameron.

"When the Triple-Eight platoon arrives in this time period, they'll be unequipped and vulnerable." Kara explained, "That's our best chance to take them all out in one go."

"Wonderful plan," Sarah said, "But LA is a big place. How will we know where in the city they're going to appear?"

"Don't worry," Kara grinned, "We got city coordinates from the message found at Alpha Omega. I can show you where, but I'll need to see a map of the city first."

"Dining room." Sarah said.

* * *

A few minutes later, they were all gathered at the dining room table looking over at a map of Los Angeles. Kara scanned the map for a few moments. "There," she said finally pointing to an area in the middle of the map, "Assuming the coordinates we found were accurate, the Triple-Eight platoon should be arriving here."

John looked closer. "I hear about that place in the news occasionally. It's a construction site that's been abandoned for years. It's called 'Roachville' because somehow it's survived several highly popular motions for demolition."

Sarah nodded. "It's the perfect staging ground for a Skynet attack." she commented. "It's virtually deserted. No one pays attention to it. The Triple-Eights' arrival will go unnoticed and unreported."

"It's also the perfect spot for an ambush." Kara said, "Plenty of hiding spots. The Triple-Eights won't be armed, so we'll have a significant advantage there." She turned to face Derek. "What sort of guns do we have?" she asked

"We have more than enough armor piercing firepower to take the bastards out." he said, flashing an evil looking grin.

"Music to my ears, Reese. So we load up, drive into Roachville, and wait until we start seeing great big flashes of light." Kara said, "Someone then drives the van towards the Triple-Eights and kills the engine. The rest of us move out on foot and find good positions to shoot from."

Cameron caught on, "The Triple-Eights will see the van and identify it not only as a means of transport but also a possible source of clothes and weapons. Assuming they follow standard infiltration protocol they'll move in to acquire it."

"And when they're close enough, we'll blow them away with armor piercing rounds. Once they're all down, we move in and extract their chips to put them out for good." Kara concluded with a look of satisfaction.

Neither Sarah nor John said anything. They both seemed to be deep in their thoughts. Derek took the opportunity to speak up.

"When we open fire, we're going to have to hit them hard and fast." Derek warned. "Clean headshots. Try to hit the chip itself if you can."

"I'm sure none of us are in kindergarten anymore, Reese." Kara said somewhat condescendingly. She then clapped her hands together and stated, "I guess we have a plan then."

Sarah held up her hand. "Not so fast." she interjected, "Someone should stay behind in the second van in case there's trouble and we need to get out in a hurry. John, you'd better stay back."

John opened his mouth to protest, but Sarah cut him off. "Don't argue with me, John. Just stay in the second van and keep the engine running."

"We only have three sniper rifles capable of taking down a Triple-Eight anyway." Derek commented.

John look down and shook his head. "Fine then. I'll stay in the back." he said with resignation.

"Good," said Sarah. She then turned to Kara. "How good is your aim?" she asked.

"Mine's great. How's yours?" Kara cheekily replied.

Sarah rolled her eyes and sighed, "Alright. Snipers are Cameron, Thrace and me. Derek is the bait."

"Thanks..." muttered Derek.

"We should probably get moving soon." Sarah said, "Derek, go check out Roachville. Look for anything we can use or could be used against us when we pull this off tonight. Get back here in two hours."

Derek nodded and left without a word.

Sarah then turned to Kara. "I hope I'm not making a huge mistake by following you." she said. Her tone was neutral, but her eyes conveyed a clear threat.

"Yeah. I hope so too." Kara murmured, more to herself than to Sarah.

After a brief moment of silence, Kara spoke up again. "If you don't mind, I'd like to use the shower. And you wouldn't happen to have a fresh change of clothes lying around would you? Because frankly these-" she gestured at her raggedy sweater and pants "-kind of stink."

Sarah nodded. "The bathroom's upstairs on the left. I'll try to find you something to clean to wear."

"Thanks," said Kara, "I owe you."

"You can pay me back by helping us kill those Triple-Eights tonight." Sarah replied.

Kara grinned and winked at her. "You won't be disappointed." she said smugly. She then hurried out the room.

* * *

John and Cameron moved to exit the room as well when Sarah called out to them.

"Both of you wait," she said, "We need to talk."

"About what?" John asked.

"About our new friend, Colonel Kara Thrace. What else?" Sarah said folding her arms across her chest. "What exactly does Thrace do for the Resistance?" she asked Cameron.

"She's one of John's best strategists." stated Cameron, "She's mostly known for her unconventional and highly creative battlefield tactics. Thrace played a key role in the retaking of Serrano Point in 2026."

"Go on." said Sarah.

"She's conducted at least two-hundred and seventy-three missions behind enemy lines, many of them by herself. She's fought on the front lines at least-"

Sarah cut her off. "Is there anything I should know about her personally?"

"She's a very formidable soldier. She can easily handle any weapon and is highly skilled in hand-to-hand combat. Additionally, she's adept at fashioning improvised weapons by herself-"

"Okay, I get it." Sarah interrupted again, "But is there anything about her personality that I should be aware of? Can I trust her?"

Cameron paused for a moment, before responding. "Her loyalty is unquestionable. But she does have a tendency to show disobedience and disrespect to those in command. She's disobeyed direct orders on more than one occasion. She even physically assaulted a superior officer in one incident."

"I was afraid of that." sighed Sarah

"Colonel Thrace has her flaws. She is human after all." Cameron acknowledged, "But she wouldn't have been sent back if John felt she would cause more harm than good."

"I guess you have a point." Sarah said.

"Why is it I've never heard of her before?" asked John. "She sounds pretty important. Shouldn't Skynet have tried to kill her in the past like it's tried to kill me?"

"There's been no record of Thrace's existence prior to March 21st of 2024 when she was recruited into the Resistance," Cameron explained.

"I see. So she's been in the Resistance for less than four years and she's already one of my best people?" John asked.

"She earned multiple battlefield promotions," Cameron stated.

"What was she doing all those years between Judgment Day and the day she joined the Resistance?"

"Surviving. What else?"

Realizing he wasn't going to get anything else useful, John decided to bring up another issue.

"Derek keeps calling her 'Starbuck'. What's that all about?" he asked.

"It's just a name she prefers to be called by." Cameron explained.

"That's a funny nickname, 'Starbuck'." John mused, "I don't suppose she used to work at a coffee shop?"

"I wouldn't know. She's never explained it to anyone," Cameron said. "She doesn't talk much about her past at all."

Sarah finally spoke up. "I'll play along with Thrace for now." she said, "But I'm going to be watching her closely. So should you, John. We can't let 'Starbuck' put our lives in danger."

"Our lives have always been in danger." John pointed out

"All the more reason not to trust her." Sarah replied tersely, briefly glancing at Cameron as she spoke. No one said anything else as Sarah left the room.

John began to wonder who his mom had really been talking about - Starbuck or Cameron.

_"Or maybe both."_ he thought to himself.

* * *

A/N: Read and Review.

The next chapter will explain exactly what happened to Kara when she vanished at the end of "Daybreak Part II"


	5. From Daybreak to Twilight

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

A/N: As I promised, this is the chapter that explains what happened to Kara at the end of the BSG finale. And believe me, it's _not_ pretty.

**A/N2: As of 4/16/09, I've added some stuff to this chapter to flesh it out some more.**

* * *

It had been forever since Kara Thrace had had a hot shower. Seven and a half years anyway. She sighed and allowed the hot water to cascade down her body. It felt soothing and relaxing. Kara also knew that it probably wouldn't last given what she had endured most of her life.

The past seven and a half years of her life had in some ways been one big routine. The first four years had been spent killing Cylons, eating crappy food, and sleeping in a cramped bunk. She had then spent the next three-and-a-half years killing Terminators, eating crappy food, and sleeping in a cramped tunnel. Nearly eight years of running, hiding, and fighting.

_All part of Kara Thrace's special destiny,_ she thought to herself. _Too bad I _still_ don't get what it is._

There was no point in denying that she had a special destiny. Few people had spent their childhoods carelessly painting images that years later turned out to have some divine meaning. Very few people had married two-thousand year old Cylons. And even fewer people had been brought back from the dead and later found their own dead bodies. Kara had gone through all that and more, and yet she still didn't fully understand.

It seemed that every time she thought she understood her destiny, fate blindsided her and left her in the dark again.

She had thought she understood her destiny when Leoben had told she was the mother of his daughter Kasey. Then it turned out Kasey wasn't her child, or Leoben's, or even a Cylon-human hybrid.

She had thought she understood her destiny when she had led the Fleet to Earth. Then it turned out that Earth was a smoldering wasteland.

She had thought she finally understood her destiny when she jumped the _Galactica_ to a lush, habitable new world that they eventually decided to call "Earth."

And then...

As the warm water continued to flow freely down her body, Kara cast her mind back to the day she had been tossed yet another curveball.

* * *

**150,000 years ago**

Kara Thrace had never felt so complete in her life. Here she was with Lee Adama in a beautiful green field on an equally beautiful new world. After four years of being on the run, they had made it. Humanity was about to be given a fresh start. Her job here was finished, and it felt _good_.

Lee was prattling on about climbing mountains and whatnot. Gods, he was like a little kid in front of a candy store. Then again, Kara couldn't blame him. This world, this new Earth, was full of things just waiting to be discovered. Her only regret was that she wouldn't be able to join him. She didn't know why she thought that, but she just knew it _somehow_. She didn't know _where_ she was going, only that she wasn't staying here.

It was a shame really. Lee was bound to get himself killed without her looking after him.

"-I want to climb mountains, I want to cross oceans..." Lee was saying.

Kara silently giggled to herself. She closed her eyes and shook her head in amusement.

"Gods, I can't believe I'm saying this." she heard Lee say.

"Oh please, Lee." Kara teased as she opened her eyes, "You've always been a big sucker for-"

But Lee wasn't there anymore.

Alarmed, Kara called out for him: "Lee?"

There was no response.

Kara began to panic. "Lee? _Lee?_ LEE?" she cried out desperately.

Again, her calls went unanswered. It seemed as if Lee had literally vanished without a trace.

Then it suddenly hit upon Kara that Lee wasn't the _only_ thing that had vanished. The green field they had been standing had disappeared as well. Also gone was the bright blue sky and its fluffy white clouds. In its place was a thick black cloud that loomed over her like a demonic shadow.

As Kara took in her new surroundings, she got the terrifying impression that she had just been taken out of Paradise and dropped off in the middle of Hell...

* * *

At that very moment, Kara was standing in what was clearly the ruins of a city. These ruins were very different than the ones she had seen on Caprica and on the old Earth. She could see no intact or undamaged buildings, yet the ruins looked fairly new. The air was cold and the wind carried with it the foul stench of ash and decay. She did her best not to gag.

Kara started to move forward, but she had only taken a single step when she was halted by a chilling crunching sound. She stared down and saw that she had just stepped on what had clearly been a human skull. Kara stumbled back reflexively only to realize that there were dozens of skulls gathered at her feet. She slowly drew her eyes further down and saw the entire landscape was dotted with thousands of human skulls. They all seemed to stare at her in silent accusation.

Kara's mind was reeling.

What the frak had just happened?

What the hell was this place? Or was this place Hell itself?

What had she gotten herself into _this time_?

Whatever this nightmarish place was, she wanted to get out _now_.

_Okay, keep it together, Starbuck,_ she told herself. _Find help. You can't be the only living thing here. _

As if in response to her thoughts, a loud howling sound tore across the wasteland. At first she thought it was some kind of windstorm, but as the noise grew louder, she realized it had a mechanical buzzing sound to it. She looked up and saw an ominous shape in the blackened sky bearing down upon her.

Instinctively, Kara looked around for the nearest hiding spot. She saw the burnt-out remains of an overturned car, and without a second thought she ran as fast as she could towards it, not caring for the countless human remains she trampled on in the process.

The vehicle was lying upside down like a dead bug. The windshield had been shattered leaving a way inside. Kara looked back up and saw that the thing in the sky was almost on top of her. She threw herself on the ground and crawled into the car through the broken windshield.

Kara lay underneath the wreckage, not daring to move an inch. She could clearly hear the mechanized howling and whirring of the thing outside. The thing was probably hovering right above her. She tried not to make any noise - or even breathe. Unfortunately, she couldn't stop her heart which was beating away like a war drum.

As the noise continued for what seemed like an eternity, Kara finally decided she would risk taking a peek at whatever the hell was out here. She reached down and drew her side arm. It probably wouldn't help very much, but at least it made her feel a little less frightened. Taking a deep breath, she slowly poked her head out the windshield and stared up at the thing in the sky.

The thing hovering above was obviously some kind of aircraft. It was about the size of a Cylon Heavy Raider, but it was very different than any ship - human or Cylon - she had seen before. The thing had a squat, flat, metallic body with two massive cylindrical turbines jutting out of its sides. The forward section of the craft was wedged shaped, with no windows or anything to indicate who - if anyone - was flying it. She also noticed a finned "tail" sticking out of its rear end.

Suddenly, a strobe light burst from the belly of the craft and began sweeping across the ruined landscape. Kara ducked her head back inside the car just in time to avoid being caught. The search light continued to move back and forth for a while, until finally it vanished. There was a high pitched whining sound, followed by a roar of engines. Then the mechanical whirring began to grow fainter and fainter. Finally it was gone.

Cautiously and quietly, Kara crept out of her hiding spot. The aircraft was nowhere in sight. Not wanting to wait for it to return, Kara began making her way across the ruined city.

* * *

It was the same everywhere she went. Shattered buildings. Abandoned vehicles. Piles of rubble and human skulls.

_What the hell happened here? _Kara wondered. _And how the hell did I get here in the first place?_

Several times, one or two airborne craft flew by forcing her to take cover. Fortunately, these things weren't actually that smart. They conducted their searches in a very predictable fashion, and after the third encounter, Kara had learned how to avoid detection and still keep moving. It was safe to assume based on their behavior, these things were self-piloted constructs like Cylon Raiders.

It was also safe to assume that they were not very friendly.

Finally, after hours of wandering and finding no signs of life, Kara forced herself to stop. She needed a rest. Her legs were aching, her throat was dry, and her stomach was growling. She found a decent hiding place and sat down. Searching the pockets of her jacket and pants, she eventually produced a couple protein bars and a canteen of water that was only half full. Grimacing at her meager supplies, she unwrapped one of the bars and ate about a third of it. She then washed it down with a sip from her canteen. Kara put everything back in her pockets and reviewed the situation. It didn't look good. If she couldn't find aid or supplies soon, she wouldn't last a week in this place.

She decided to rest here for fifteen minutes before she headed off again. As she laid back on a slab of concrete, she wondered if this was a dream or some sort of afterlife. She considered the irony of this being her personal afterlife. It was a rather twisted reflection of her whole life, which she had spent alone running, hiding, fighting, and surviving off of what little there was.

_Maybe this is where I'm meant to be,_ Kara brooded in silence. _Maybe the Gods, or God, or some supernatural power thought that I would feel at home here. Maybe they're right and I do belong in this place. I could have done without the skulls though._

Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud rumbling sound as the ground started shaking violently. Kara instinctively abandoned her shelter just in time to avoid being squashed by something huge that plowed right through the hiding spot. From behind a ruined wall, an astonished Kara watched as an enormous machine rolled by, its treads crushing everything in its path. It was a rather bulky, ugly tank-like monstrosity sporting a pair of large arm-like appendages that hung from its sides. Kara could also see what were obviously gun turrets attached to both arms.

_I am _really_ starting to hate this place, _she thought.

After she was sure the thing had passed, she started to get back up, but instantly ducked down again. Marching in the giant machine's wake were dozens of mechanical humanoids.

_Frak! Centurions!_

However, upon closer observation she saw that they were not like any type of Centurion she had encountered before. Their arms, legs, and torsos vaguely resembled those of modern Cylon Centurions, but their heads were shaped like human skulls with glowing red eyes. They were all armed with huge guns that they easily carried in one hand. The horrific scene reminded Kara of an army of demonic skeleton warriors from some sort of horror or fantasy movie.

_Alright, Starbuck, time to bug out of here,_ Kara told herself, having seen quite enough.

She hurried away, trying to put as much distance as possible between her and the machine army. Climbing over a large pile of rubble and sliding down to the other side, Kara picked herself up and-

_Oh frak!_

Less than thirty feet away stood a pair of gun-totting toasters

The machines must have been just as startled as she was because they didn't immediately start shooting. Instead they just stared at her with their glowing red eyes. No one moved for three seconds. Then one of the toasters brought its weapon to its shoulder and aimed it at Kara.

_Run! _ Kara silently screamed to herself. Her legs were already moving.

Moments later the toaster opened fire. Instead of shooting bullets, however, the gun spat out a stream of bluish-white light. Kara ducked just in time to avoid losing her head. As the beam of light soared over her, Kara smelled the air sizzling away. She watched the energy beam punch a clean hole the size of a man's fist in the side of an abandoned car behind her.

The second toaster now raised its weapon and began firing away at Kara, forcing her to take cover behind the car. The barrage of weapons fire continued rapidly burning her protective barrier away. What kind of guns were those things carrying? Some type of energy weapon apparently. Kara remembered how Colonial scientists had spent decades trying to develop such weapons, but they had never been able to produce anything effective or practical. The story had been different here, it would seem.

The car she was hiding behind was almost completely melted on one side, and Kara knew that the other side wouldn't last any longer than the first. She got up and ran as fast as she could towards a parking lot which would hopefully provide her with additional cover. The two machines pursued her firing as they went. Fortunately, they weren't very fast. Kara reached the lot and took refuge behind a row of empty cars. She pulled out her side arm and checked her ammo supply. Two - no - three clips, plus the one already in her weapon. Grinding her teeth, she waited for the sound of mechanical footsteps.

"Alright, motherfrakkers," she growled, clutching her weapon tightly, "You bite Starbuck, Starbuck bites back."

Peering through the window of the car she was hiding behind, she could see the two machines advancing in search of their elusive prey. Kara readied herself.

_On three,_ she thought, _One, two, three!_

She leapt to her feet and started blasting away at the nearest machine. She kept firing until her pistol was empty. Not even bothering to see if she had done any damage, Kara threw herself back on the ground. A torrent of weapons fire streaked over her seconds later. She slapped another clip into her weapon and crawled behind another car. Again she sprang up and unleashed a hail of bullets. Unfortunately, her shots merely bounced off the armored chassis of the enemy.

Before Kara had emptied even half her clip, the machines returned fire. She ducked and avoided the barrage of energy blasts, although just barely. The toasters continued their approach. Soon they would be literally shoving the barrels of their weapons down her throat. It was time to adjust tactics.

Kara fired her remaining rounds at the closest machine, aiming specifically at the head this time. The toaster stumbled backwards slightly, its arms flailing. As the thing regained its balance, Kara saw a smoking hole where its left eye should have been. She had hurt it.

Kara allowed herself to grin before having to duck again as the second machine fired at her. Loading her weapon again, she decided she'd best fall back. She stood up and began running deeper into the parking lot, firing away as she ran. Throwing herself behind another row of cars, she saw that both machines had halted their advance. They seemed to be holding back now, as if trying to decide what to do next. Apparently, they had not been expecting this much resistance.

Thirty seconds passed.

Then the machines split up, moving in opposite directions across the lot. They were going to move around her protective line of cars and flank her from both sides.

Kara checked her ammunition._ Frak!_ Only one clip left! If she didn't do something quickly, she would find herself between a hammer and an anvil. If only she could bring one of them down now, she could take its weapon and kill the other.

Suddenly an idea hit her. It was a crazy one. Probably suicidal. But she was Starbuck and that name meant "crazy." And her idea just might work anyway.

Kara loaded her last clip into her side arm and began stealthily making her way towards the approaching one-eyed toaster. She crouched down behind the last car in the line and waited for the machine to turn the corner. Sweat began dripping down her forehead, as the machine drew closer. Her heart pounded and blood rushed through her body.

_Wait for it... Wait for it... _she mentally said to herself over and over.

The thing was nearly on top of her now. Kara tightened her finger around the trigger of her weapon and held her breath not daring to making a sound.

_Wait for it... Wait for it..._

The machine turned the corner.

_NOW!_ bellowed her mind.

Kara sprang from her hiding place and hurled herself at the machine, every particle of her being focused on kicking its metal ass.

Time seemed to slow down as Kara tackled the machine in a bear hug, wrapping her arms as tightly around its torso. The machine had been completely unprepared for this kind of brazen attack. It flailed its arms, grabbed at her, and tried to pull her off, but she refused to let go. With no time to waste, Kara pressed the barrel of her weapon against the thing's empty eye socket and pulled the trigger. She fired again and again, putting bullet after bullet into the metal frakker's head, screaming with rage and fury as she did.

Sparks and smoke belched from the toaster's skull. Then at last, the back of its head was blown wide open. The toaster stopped its struggle and stood motionless for a few seconds. Then it toppled over face first. Human and machine hit the ground with a resounding thud.

For a few moments, Kara just lay there gasping for breath. Slowly, she pushed the fallen machine off of her. Much to her satisfaction, the red light in the toaster's remaining eye had faded. She was pretty sure it was dead.

_One down and one to go,_ she thought as she stared at her enemy's burnt out skull.

She started to reach for the large weapon in machine's hand when a sudden energy discharge knocked her flat on her back. As she struggled to sit up, she saw to her horror that the gun - and best chance of winning this fight - had been reduced to a smoldering ruin.

The second machine - the one that still had both its eyes - stood less than fifteen feet away, the barrel of its weapon smoking. Reacting swiftly, Kara grabbed her side arm off the ground, aimed, pulled the trigger...

Nothing happened.

It was empty.

_Oh frak..._

Kara wanted to run but she was drained both mentally and physically. She simply sat there next to the downed machine, whose friend was coming to avenge it. The second machine raised its weapon and pointed it at Kara's head. Kara braced herself to die - again.

There was a blinding flash of light.

But it came not from the machine's weapon. It came from _behind_ the machine. The energy blast struck the machine squarely in the back of its head blowing it to pieces. The headless toaster crumpled to the ground on its side.

Kara gaped. Who had-

"Got it! The metal's down!"

"Nice shot, Davy!"

Out from the darkness came six men - all human it seemed - armed with weapons like the ones carried by the machines. They wore a variety of different combat fatigues, armored vests, and helmets. They gathered around the fallen machine, apparently having taken no notice of Kara.

Kara slowly got to her feet and cautiously called out, "Uh, hey, guys!"

All six men instantly trained their weapons on her.

Kara put her hands up. "Alright, alright, just take it easy there!" she said out loud. "Don't shoot. I'm a friendly, alright?"

"On your knees! Now!" barked one of the men.

Not wishing to give these people a reason to fry her now, Kara complied and knelt on the ground.

_Okay, just relax,_ she told herself, _Stay cool and don't do anything stupid._

Keeping their weapons pointed at her, the group surrounded Kara. Unarmed, outnumbered, and on her knees, Kara felt very, very small.

"What do you think, Sarge?" one soldier - a woman - asked. "Metal or flesh?"

The man who had ordered Kara to kneel said, "Only one way to find out." He handed his weapon to the man closest to him. "Keep me covered, people. She does anything funny, blast her."

Kara's stomach tightened as the man approached her. He stopped a few feet in front of her and stared down at her, eyes dark and cold. Kara looked back up and took in the man's face, now illuminated by the flashlights of his comrades. The guy had obviously been in some rough neighborhoods. His face was rugged, grimy, and unkempt. There was a large scar on his left cheek.

"Stand up," he ordered. "Slowly."

Kara slowly got to her feet. The man reached out with one hand and cupped Kara's chin rather roughly. With the other hand, he rubbed a callous finger over her cheek. He looked her in the eyes and stared at them long and hard, as if searching for something. Kara could not stop herself from flinching under this cold inspection. Finally, the man released her.

"Well," he said in a low voice, "you seem alive enough... so far." He suddenly pulled out a knife. "Hold out your hand."

Kara's heart skipped a beat. "Why?"

"I gotta see what's underneath your skin. Now hold out your hand."

Kara swallowed. "Look, whatever this is all about, it's not-"

"This ain't a request, little girl," growled the man dangerously. "Hold out your hand... or I'll do it for you."

Kara reluctantly extended her left arm. The man took it and forced her palm open. He slid the blade of his knife across her hand, cutting into the skin and drawing fresh blood. Kara did her best not to cry out in pain, but couldn't stop herself from gasping and wincing.

The man noticed her discomfort. "Does that hurt?" he asked.

"Of course it frakkin' hurts!" Kara grunted.

The man nodded. "Good," he said, with satisfaction and released her hand. He turned to the others and held up the bloody knife. "Stand down, everyone. She's safe."

The group lowered their weapons. Kara sighed with tremendous relief.

The man, who was obviously the leader of the group, put his knife away. "Feral, set up a perimeter," he ordered. "I'm gonna have a little chat here with our mystery woman." He turned back to Kara. "Sergeant Gregory Macintosh, head of Bravo Squad. Local LA Resistance," he said. "Who are you?"

"Kara Thrace," said Kara. "Nice to meet you, Sergeant. Thanks for the rescue."

"Just doing our jobs. You hurt?"

"I'm fine..." - she held up her bleeding hand - "...apart from this."

"Hold on a sec." Macintosh reached into a utility belt and produced a small roll of bandages. He ripped off a strip and carefully wrapped it around Kara's hand. "There," he said when finished, "Now then, what the hell are you doing out here, young lady? This whole district was supposed to have been evacuated three days ago."

"I'm lost," said Kara, not knowing what else to say.

"_Lost?_" Macintosh eyed her suspiciously. "What happened to your refugee group?"

Kara's insides began to squirm again. She needed something plausible to say. "I-I got separated from them," she said, "Don't know how, really. One moment they were with me, next moment I'm all alone." She laughed nervously. "Weird, right?"

Before Macintosh could respond, one of the other soldiers - the woman - shouted out, "Hey! I thought there was only _one_ metal!"

"There _was_ only one, Feral," another man said, "I wasted it, remember?"

"Yeah, I know that, Griffin. But then what's this guy's story?" asked the woman called Feral, prodding Kara's fallen toaster with the sole of her boot.

"Wow..." muttered the guy whose name was Griffin. He walked over to inspect the downed machine. "Someone sure did a number on this bastard. Whose work was this?"

Against her better judgment, Kara raised her hand. "Mine," she said.

"Yours?" asked Griffin incredulously. "How?"

"With that." Kara pointed to her side arm lying on the ground nearby.

Griffin picked the weapon up and inspected it. He stared at Kara in disbelief. "You took out that badass metal - with _this_ little peashooter?" he said holding up the pistol.

"It wasn't easy," Kara answered darkly.

"How in God's name does a girl like you do something like that?"

"Well, a girl's got to do what she has to do to survive."

"You don't say." Griffin muttered looking at her with unmistakable admiration. Feral was talking quietly to another man, and they both looked at Kara in mild astonishment. Even Macintosh seemed impressed.

_Looks like I've made a good first impression, _Kara thought.

Just then another soldier approached Macintosh with a radio. "Incoming call from Bunker Five, Sarge. It's Lieutenant Green. He wants an update ASAP."

Macintosh took the radio. "This is Macintosh, Bravo Squad," he said, "Recon of District Foxtrot complete, sir. It's as we feared. The metals are setting up a beachhead here. I'll give the details when I get back. The squad plus one is returning to base. Yes, that's affirmative, sir... Plus one. We, uh, just picked up a civilian... Yes, sir... I'm aware that this place was supposed to have been evacuated. She says she got separated from her evac group... You know how it is out here, sir... Yes, sir... Understood. We'll be there shortly. Bravo Squad out." He handed the radio back to his subordinate.

"Okay, people," he ordered, "We're heading back to the bunker. Let's get a move on it! That means you too, Miss Thrace." He then turned to Griffin and said, "Private Griffin, stay with Miss Thrace. Keep her safe and don't let her do anything stupid. Got it?"

Griffin nodded. "Yes, sir!" He then walked over to Kara. "Stay close to me, alright?" he said placing his hand gently on her shoulder.

Kara nodded. This close, she could see more of his features. Griffin appeared to be in this early-thirties. Like the others in the group, Griffin was rugged and grimy. However, beneath all the scars and dirt, he was actually quite handsome and youthful looking-

_Focus, Starbuck! Focus!_

She snapped back to reality (assuming this was reality). As the group began to head off, Kara reached down to pick up the second machine's weapon.

"Hey, hey..." Griffin warned, grabbing her arm, "Sorry, but I'm can't let you have that." He picked up the weapon himself. "No enemy tech allowed in civilian hands."

"I'd feel a lot better if I had a weapon," protested Kara.

"Don't worry," Griffin reassured her, "I've got your back."

"Great... What happens if you get killed?" Kara asked dryly.

Griffin sighed. "Look if that happens, you can have _my_ gun. Deal?"

"Alright, deal."

"Hey, you two! Let's get a move on it already!" shouted Feral impatiently.

"Right behind you!" Griffin yelled back.

* * *

For the next hour or so, Kara and her rescuers traveled through the ruins of the city. Along the way, they were forced to dodge several patrols of machines. At one point, they had to take refuge behind some rubble from a pair of flying toasters.

"What are those things?" Kara asked in a hushed voice as one of the airborne machines glided overhead.

Feral stared at her, confused by her ignorance. "HKs," she said, matter-of-factly. "You know, Hunter Killers. Don't tell me you've never seen them before."

"I have. Plenty of times," Kara said hastily. "Just not _this_ close, I mean."

"We've been even _closer_," said Griffin, a rather smug look on his face.

"The HKs ain't too smart," said Sergeant Macintosh, "but they've got infrared and motion trackers. And those plasma cannons definitely aren't for show. Best thing to do is keep your head down and wait 'em out."

"And those tin cans that were chasing me? What were they?"

"T-650 endoskeleton infantry units," said Feral. "Also known as Terminators. Standard issue metal cannon fodder."

Machintosh nodded. "Again, not too bright," he added. "But not pushovers either. Especially when they come in numbers."

_Terminators_. _Hunter Killers._ The names sent involuntary shivers down Kara's spine.

"Mind if I ask what was with all the gun pointing back there?" she asked.

"Had to make sure you weren't an Infiltrator," said Macintosh. "Can't be too careful these days. The T-800s were bad enough, but now Skynet is rolling out the new Triple-Eights."

"Damn things not only _look_ like us, they know how to _act_ like us too," remarked another soldier grimly.

_This all sounds _very_ familiar_, Kara thought to herself.

At this point, the two Hunter Killers finally turned off their search lights and flew away to continue their search elsewhere.

"Come on," commanded Macintosh. "Let's move. Before they come back."

The group immediately broke cover and hurried off, Kara in tow. Eventually, they came to a trapdoor hidden underneath a pile of smashed cars. After ensuring they weren't being watched, Macintosh open the trapdoor and led the group down a ladder.

Kara found herself in what was obviously a crude underground base. She followed the group down a poorly lit tunnel until they were halted by a picket of four guards with three large dogs. Macintosh gently patted the dogs who whimpered in affection. He then called out a series of letters and numbers to the guards who stepped aside and allowed them all to pass.

Macintosh turned to one the guards. "Where's Lieutenant Green?" he asked, "I need to speak with him."

The guard responded, "I think he's in the operations room."

Macintosh turned to Kara. "Come with me, Miss Thrace." he said.

Kara followed Macintosh down a dim corridor. Along the way, she saw more soldiers of different sex, color, and age. They were all grim and battled-hardened and armed. Eventually, she and Macintosh stepped into a room with a large wooden table covered in crudely drawn maps. A thin bald man in brown fatigues was leaning over the table studying something. Macintosh marched up to him and saluted.

"Sir." he announced, "Sergeant Macintosh reporting."

The bald man saluted back. "What do you have, Mac?" he asked.

Macintosh gestured to Kara. "This is the refugee I told you about."

The man nodded before addressing Kara. "I'm Lieutenant Green, commander of Bunker Five," he said. "What's your name?"

"Kara... Kara Thrace."

Green skipped the pleasantries and cut right to the chase.

"Alright, Miss Thrace, I'll be honest with you," Green said, "I can give you directions to the nearest refugee camp. It's about two days from here on foot. But I'm afraid you're going to have to get there on your own. I can't spare any of my men or supplies right now."

"Well, maybe I could just stay here then." Kara suggested hopefully.

Green shook his head. "Out of the question." he replied.

"I might be able to help around here." Kara offered.

"That's very kind of you, but I don't think you can help." Green said dismissively as he turned his attention back to a map.

Macintosh cleared his throat. "With respect, sir, that may not be true. We need all the people we can get until reinforcements arrive. I recommend, sir, that we give this woman a weapon and put her with the rest of the troops."

"We're not in any position to start training new recruits." Green said sternly, still studying the map, "What makes you think this girl is qualified to be a soldier?"

"She has plenty of guts, sir."

"Does she?"

"Enough to go head-to-head with a pair of endos, sir."

Green looked up. "I see." he said his voice remaining neutral. "I presume this was when you found her."

Macintosh nodded. "Yes, sir."

Intrigued, Green decided to press further. "She'll need more than bravery, Mac. Assuming she was being brave as opposed to being suicidal or just plain stupid at the time."

"It might have been all three, sir. But she didn't just fight the metals. She _destroyed_ one."

Green blinked. "Destroyed one? How?"

"She blew its head open with nothing but a small caliber firearm."

Dumbfounded, Green stared at Macintosh, then at Kara, and then back at Macintosh. He was silent, as if trying to decide if this was for real or if someone was jerking his chain. Not wanting to jinx things, Kara suppressed a grin.

Green finally spoke again. "And the other machine?" he asked.

"It almost got her. We killed it just in time." Macintosh replied, "But the fact remains that she did something which no one in this Bunker could have done. In fact, I doubt if _anyone_ in the Resistance, save for Connor himself, could've done what she did _and_ lived. She is, as you might say, one tough cookie, sir."

Green turned to Kara. "Is this all true, Miss Thrace?"

Kara nodded. "Yes, it is."

Green rubbed his chin. "That is... quite impressive, actually."

He paused to think for a moment before speaking again. "Okay, young lady, here's the deal: If you want to stay with us, you're going to have to _be_ one of us. Until we get reinforced, you'll be expected to help us hold this position - with your life if necessary. That is the _only_ reason I'll allow you to stay here."

He leaned forward and looked Kara right in the eyes.

"Do we have a deal?" he asked in a low voice.

"Deal." Kara eagerly agreed.

"Before you get on board, you should know that I have a few simple rules." Green stated slowly, putting emphasis on every word, "There is no retreat. There is no surrender. You fight until you can't. And the only times you can't fight are when the enemy is dead or when _you're_ dead. Is that clear?"

If Green had known even a _fraction_ about her, he would have never asked that question. But then again, Kara doubted if _anyone_ here knew much about her. So, she just smiled.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Kara said before adding, "Sir."

Green returned her smile. "Very well. Then let's do this. Raise your right hand, Miss Thrace."

Kara took a deep breath and raised her right hand.

"Do you, Kara Thrace, now and forever pledge your allegiance to the Human Resistance?" he asked.

"I do." she said without hesitation.

"Do you swear to do your duty as a soldier?"

"I do."

"And do you swear to defend the Human race with your very life if necessary?"

"I do."

Green shook her hand. "Then welcome to the Resistance, Private Thrace." he said.

"Thank you, sir." Kara replied. She was suddenly starting to feel a lot better about this whole situation.

"I'm putting her in your squad, Mac." Green informed the sergeant, "You found her. She's your responsibility now. Understood?"

"Understood, sir." replied Macintosh.

"Looks like we'll be seeing each other for a while, Thrace." someone said from behind Kara.

Kara and Macintosh realized that Griffin had been standing right behind her this whole time.

"Private Griffin, what the hell are you doing here?" Macintosh demanded.

"You ordered me to stay with Thrace, sir." Griffin reminded him, "I don't believe you issued me new orders since then, sir."

Macintosh merely shook his head.

Green spoke up. "Alright, dismissed all three of you."

"Sir!" Macintosh, Griffin, and Kara all saluted and exited the room.

When they were outside, a grateful Kara spoke to Macintosh.

"Sir," Kara said, "I just want to thank you for doing this for me. This means a lot-"

"I don't need your thanks, Thrace." Macintosh replied stiffly, "You're one of us now. All I need is for you to do your job like everyone else."

Macintosh turned to face Griffin.

"Griffin take Private Thrace to the armory. Get her equipped and show her the basics." he ordered.

"Yes, sir." Griffin nodded. He motioned for Kara to come with him.

* * *

Kara followed Griffin through a series of tunnels and eventually entered a small chamber, containing tables piled with various weapons, body armor, and other such stuff.

"Let's get you suited up first." he said. He helped Kara into an armored vest. "This won't stop a plasma blast. But it should help against shrapnel and debris. Same goes for this helmet here."

"That's good to know." Kara said as she strapped the helmet on. The armor was a bit uncomfortable but not too bad.

"Okay, pay attention. This-" Griffin held up a large gun like the ones both he and the machines carried "-is a standard issue M-42 Phased Plasma Rifle. It's got an effective range of up to a half a mile and can penetrate two to four inches of hardened steel. There are three settings - single shot, three-shot burst, and fully automatic."

"Got it," Kara said.

"This thing here," Griffin pointed to a small circle, "is the power indicator. When it's red, like now, it means you're out of power. What you do is open it up like this." he slid a small compartment in the gun open and pulled out a small grey cylinder, "You remove the empty power cell and insert a new one." He took another cylinder - this one glowing blue - and inserted it into the gun and resealed the compartment.

"The indicator is now green meaning that the weapon's fully powered. As the power goes down, the indicator will go from green to yellow to orange, and finally to red. Keep your eye on it at all times. There's nothing that sucks more than suddenly discovering that you're out of juice in the middle of a firefight."

Kara, who had experienced similar misfortunes in the past, nodded.

Griffin then showed her a sniper scope on the top of the rifle. "This is the targeting scope. It has a range of up to a mile." he informed her, starting to sound kind of like a salesman, "Turn this dial to zoom in or out on the target. There's a range finder in the top right hand corner."

He handed the gun to Kara. "Any questions?"

"Just one." Kara said as she took the rifle. It was heavy and somewhat bulky, but she could still handle it pretty well. "If I wanna shoot something, I just point the barrel and pull the trigger? Is that right?"

"Uh, yeah." replied Griffin, "That's right." He sounded a little bit disappointed that she had asked such a rhetorical question.

"Okay," Kara said happily. "Then I'm good." She couldn't wait to use this new toy.

Kara paused for a moment before asking, "Were you the one who took out that metal bastard? The one I didn't get and was about to kill me?"

Griffin nodded. "Yeah, that was me."

"Well I just wanted to tell you thanks for saving my ass back there." Kara said softly.

"You're welcome, Thrace."

"Call me 'Starbuck'"

"'Starbuck'?"

"It's just a nickname I like to be called by." Kara explained.

"Some nickname."

"Yeah it sure is. Say, I never got your first name, Griffin."

"It's David," Griffin replied, "Or just Davy."

"Nice to meet you, Davy." Kara grinned.

"Nice to meet you too, Starbuck." Davy grinned back. After a moment, he turned his attention back to the rest of the equipment. "Alright then, let's talk about the rest of this stuff-"

Suddenly, an alarm went off.

"Uh oh." said Davy.

Kara looked around. "What's that?" she asked.

"Trouble." he said.

The two dashed out of the armory and into the corridor where dozens of people were rushing in every direction. Davy grabbed one man by the shoulder. "What's going on?" he demanded.

"We've got incoming!" the man shouted, "There's metal on the horizon! Get to your damn posts, ASAP!"

"Oh hell. Looks like we're gonna have to skip the shooting range and get right to the real thing, Starbuck," Davy told Kara. "Follow me!"

"Right behind you, Davy!" Kara shouted.

The two hurried down a series of passageways and arrived at a door that led outside the bunker. Kara found herself standing in a maze of man-made trenches. At least fifty other Resistance fighters had already taken up defensive positions. Davy led her down the trench to a particular spot. Macintosh, Feral and the others who had rescued Kara were there waiting for them.

"'Bout time you got here, Griffin," Macintosh grunted. He turned to Kara, "You know how to handle that gun, Thrace?"

Kara nodded and lifted her plasma rifle to shoulder height. "Yes, sir."

"We'll see, won't we? Now, both of you, get your asses in line with the others."

"Yes, sir," said both Kara and Davy.

They got into position next to Feral, who was manning a heavy machine gun.

"Nice to see you, Becka," Davy said.

Feral nodded and smiled. "Likewise, Davy." She turned her attention to Kara. "Certainly picked one hell of a day to join up, Thrace. Don't back out on us."

"I _never_ back out," Kara said, gritting her teeth slightly as the ground around them began to rumble.

She looked across the ash covered landscape and saw an approaching mob of ominous shapes. Peering into her rifle scope and she could clearly make out dozens of T-650 Endoskeletons coming her way.

A familiar mechanical whining sound resonated through the air. Kara looked upwards and saw three HKs closing in on the trench.

Macintosh bellowed into a radio, "Hart, Johnson, take those bastards out! Now!"

_"Yes, sir!"_ someone replied through the radio. _"Going loud! Hold on to your hats, everyone!"_

Half a dozen surface-to-air missiles streaked over their heads and slammed into all three airborne machines. Two were completely disintegrated on impact. The other spun out of control and plummeted into the ground. The downed craft bounced a couple of times before going up in a great ball of fire.

The defenders started to cheer, but Macintosh silenced them. "No celebrating yet!" he barked, "It hasn't even _begun_!"

_Does it ever end?_ wondered Kara.

"Tank!" someone yelled. "We've got a freakin' Tank!"

Kara looked across the field and saw the giant metal monstrosity she had encountered earlier rolling her way. Behind her, she heard Macintosh chuckle. "A Tank, eh? I almost feel honored. Stand firm, boys and girls! Let's show these metal fuckers that the Goddamn Human Race still owns this planet! _Am I right, soldiers?"_

"Sir, yes, sir!" everyone roared.

Macintosh grunted with approval. "And don't any of you forget that. Now let's give these sons-of-bitches a warm welcome."

Kara steeled herself. She was about to enter a fight, and she didn't intend to lose.

The Sergeant got into position himself, his own plasma rifle in hand. "Take aim!"

Kara looked at Davy. Davy looked at her. She winked at him. He winked back. Kara resumed looking through her scope, selected a target, and fixed the crosshairs on its ugly skull-like head. Slowly, she wrapped her finger around the trigger of her weapon. She smiled in anticipation as the familiar thrill of battle washed over her.

_"OPEN FIRE!"_

Kara pulled the trigger.

* * *

Back in the present (or was that the past - or the future - or none of the above?) Kara marinated in her thoughts. Her entire existence had been spent fighting seemingly hopeless battles and somehow pulling through, only to find herself back where she started.

_All this has happened before, and all this will happen again._

Those words applied to her more than to anyone or anything else in all of creation. Maybe that's why she kept hearing them over and over.

Her body was now as clean as it was ever going to get. Kara turned the water off and slowly stepped out of the shower. She pulled a towel off the rack and wrapped it around herself. She then stared into a mirror at her reflection contemplating her identity.

Maybe she wasn't really a person. Or an angel. Maybe she was just a weapon. A tool that was used by others in battle, and when those battles were finished, taken up by new handlers to be used again and again and again.

_At least until someone invents a better weapon, _Kara thought with naked cynicism.

There was a knock at the door.

"You finished in there?" Sarah Connor asked from behind the door.

"Yeah," Kara replied.

She opened the door and let Sarah into the bathroom. Sarah placed a pile of neatly folded clothes next to the sink.

"Meet the rest of us outside the house as soon you're dressed," she told Kara. "We're almost ready to leave for Roachville."

Kara nodded. "Right."

Sarah turned to leave the room but then paused. "Almost forgot. You'll probably want this." She pulled out a gun and placed it on top of the pile of clothes.

"Thanks," Kara said.

"No problem, Thrace."

"Called me 'Starbuck' please."

Sarah paused briefly. "If you say so," she said and left.

Kara picked up the gun Sarah had left her and looked it over for a moment. She then sighed and looked at herself in the mirror once again. She knew she would never see Lee, the Old Man, Roslin, Helo or Sharon again. They were all gone, having died tens of thousands of years ago. She was also pretty certain she would not be seeing Davy, Feral, or Macintosh again either.

Well, there was no point in moping. If she was really just a tool, then that was who she was. Whining wouldn't change anything.

_I have a job to do,_ she told herself,_ Kill the Triple-Eight strike force, stop Judgment Day, and save this frakkin' world. And for frak's sake, Starbuck, don't get John Connor killed unless you want his mom to tear your head off. _

She reached for the fresh clothes and started to get dressed.

It really wasn't so bad being Kara Thrace.

* * *

A/N: Please leave a nice review.


	6. Dinner Talk

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: Read and review, folks. I'm testing to see how much notice this fic gets in the official "crossover" section.

* * *

"**Roachville", Los Angeles  
****11:28 PM, ****Saturday, May 9th, 2009  
**

"Mmmpphh..." Kara mumbled through a mouthful of Chinese noodles, "This is pretty good stuff."

"Well just don't eat too much, Starbuck," Derek advised, "You wouldn't want to be having a stomach ache when those Triple-Eights arrive."

"I wouldn't want to go into a fight hungry either." Kara countered as she swallowed her food.

At that moment, Kara, Sarah, John and Derek were eating Chinese takeout in their van as they awaited for the inevitable arrival of the Triple-Eight strike force. Cameron was busy outside patrolling the area.

Roachville wasn't really much to look at. Just a series of unfinished buildings, some of them merely skeletal frames. It was intended to have been a shopping plaza complete with malls, restaurants, and a movie theater. But less than two years into development, construction had been halted due a severe economic crisis that had engulfed Los Angeles. By the time the crisis was over, the construction company had long been out of business. With no one willing to take over the project, or demolish it, the land had been surrounded by chain linked fence and left to rot.

"How much longer?" asked John having just finished off a carton of fried rice. He was sitting in the back seat of the van next to Kara, who was now wiping her mouth with a napkin.

"Another thirty minutes." Sarah said, "Hopefully not longer." Sarah wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. Being out here in the middle of Roachville in the dead of night made her feel uneasy. Sure, she had two vans loaded with guns and explosives, but for some reason this place just gave her the creeps. And it didn't help knowing that sooner or later half a dozen killer cyborgs were going to show up.

Cameron appeared by the window. "Patrol of the perimeter is complete," she reported, "No activity spotted."

"Yeah, we know that, Cameron." Sarah sighed, clearly tired of having this conversation again. "You've told us the same thing a dozen times now."

"I thought you would have wanted to be kept updated." Cameron pointed out, "You don't like it when people don't keep you informed."

"I just don't like it when people don't keep me informed about things that _matter_." Sarah replied sounding irritated.

"Does this not matter?"

John decided to deter an argument by bringing up another subject.

"You know there's one thing I don't get." John cut in, "Why is it whenever someone from the future shows up, it's always at _night_?"

"It's a variable that's necessary to be kept constant when calculating a time jump." Cameron explained. Before John could ask exactly what she meant, Cameron walked off to conduct yet another patrol.

"You know, I think she just made that up." Kara remarked jokingly after Cameron had left.

Sarah didn't find things so amusing .

"It wouldn't be the first time she's done something like that." Sarah said brusquely, "And it definitely won't be the last."

Kara leaned forward and tapped Sarah on the shoulder.

"Hey, ease up on the girl will you?" she whispered.

"She's not a girl, Starbuck. She's a _machine_." Derek sneered.

"So what, Reese? You never complained when Jesse called that sub of hers a girl." Kara retorted.

Derek grew tense at the mention of that name.

"Don't mention Jesse in front of me." Derek said tersely, his eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched.

"Sorry, I said anything." muttered Kara as she leaned back in her seat her mood having gone sour.

"Hey, uh, Thrace - I mean Starbuck," John said, "Can I talk to you about something - alone. In the other van."

"Sure, why not?" Kara said, "I'm not getting anywhere with _these _two." gesturing at Sarah and Derek.

Without even bothering to wait for Sarah to give them the go-ahead, John and Kara got out of the van, and headed towards another van parked nearby

* * *

A couple minutes later, Kara was sitting shotgun next to John in the second van.

"So... what do you want to talk about, kid?" Kara asked.

"A lot of things, actually," replied John. "You, for starters."

"What about me?"

"I need to know where you stand."

"Where I stand?" Kara asked.

"Yeah," said John. "Where do you stand." He took a deep breath and sighed. "Look... the thing is this: Lately, there's been some serious problems with trust going on with everyone."

Kara raised an eyebrow. "That's an understatement."

"People have been hurt... even _died_ because of that lack of trust," continued John. "And honestly... I can't see how we're going to even survive, let alone stop Skynet, if we keep going on like this."

"You're preaching to the choir, kid," said Kara, nodding her head.

"So, like I said, Starbuck," said John, "where do you stand? In regards to the rest of us, I mean? What's your take on us so far?"

"You're asking me what I think about you? All of you?"

"Yeah. At least so far."

Not sure what to say, Kara sat back in her chair and stared up at the ceiling. A few seconds of awkward silence ticked by before she spoke again.

"Well..." she said quietly, "if you want my honest opinion, so far I think your Mom's a paranoid, overbearing, control freak who'd sooner saw her own leg off than ask someone for help." She smirked. "Don't tell her I said that, by the way."

John smirked back. "Don't worry. I won't say anything." He paused. "Do you think you can trust her? Even if she won't trust you?"

"Maybe," said Kara, with a shrug. "If she doesn't _shoot_ me first."

"Ok. What about Derek?" asked John.

"Reese? He's a friend and a fellow soldier. Someone I know I can count on to watch my back. So, yeah. I trust him."

John nodded. "And... Cameron?" he asked somewhat hesitantly.

"Well... Cam's an interesting case," said Kara, chuckling slightly. "She can just be a real pain in the ass sometimes. But I like having her around... usually."

"Does it bother you that she's a machine?" asked John.

"Should it?" asked Kara. This was more of a statement than a question.

"It bothers Derek and Mom," said John.

"What about you?"

John shook his head. "I don't know. I know she's a machine and that she doesn't have a soul, but there are times when I look at her, and I-"

Kara finished his sentence. "-forget what she is. And that the only things keeping her from snapping your neck are a few specially inserted lines of code in her chip."

John nodded. "Yeah."

"You're not the only one who feels that way, kid," said Kara reassuringly. "Cam and I have been fighting side-by-side almost since the day she was captured and scrubbed. She's saved my ass out there - more than once, I might add. I'm grateful for her. So, I'm willing to trust her... regardless of the risks. After all, I owe her at least that much."

John gave Kara a look of admiration. "You know, Starbuck, you're the first person who's ever said that about Cameron."

Kara grinned. "Yeah, well, I'm not like most people." She paused. "However... if Cam ever does go bad, and she tries to kill you, you should know that I won't hesitate to do what I have to do."

John nodded solemnly. "I understand." He took a deep breath and sighed. "Ok... we've got Mom, Derek, and Cameron. What about me? What's your take on me?"

"You?" Kara paused to think. "Well, you're different than what I expected. To be perfectly honest, you seem less like John Connor, and more like..." She trailed off, suddenly hesitant to say anything.

"More like who?" asked John.

Kara shook her head. "Never mind." She paused for a moment. "Here's the thing, kid. I don't judge people based on what they might do or what they think they should do. I judge them by what they just plain _do_." She looked him in the eyes now. "You shoulder a great burden. You've been on the run for most of your life. You've lost a lot along the way, and you know you're going to lose even more. And yet, despite all that, you're still here. You haven't given up." She smiled. "In my opinion, you're a strong person, kid. With a good heart too."

John smiled back. "Thanks. That means a lot to me."

Kara raised an eyebrow and smirked. "You know, kid, you'd better change that attitude. John Connor isn't supposed to give a rat's ass about what _anyone_ thinks of him."

John smirked back at her. "Yeah, well, I guess I'll put that on my to-do list."

Still smiling, Kara leaned back against her chair. "So, does that cover everything?"

"Almost everything," said John. "Now that I know you can trust us... more or less anyway, there's just one other thing I need to know." He paused. "Can I trust _you_?"

Kara stared at him. "I don't know," she said plainly, shrugging her shoulders. "What do _you_ think?"

John stared back at her. "I think... I think that if my future self was willing to send you back, he must trusted you. Is that enough reason for me to trust you too? I mean... I don't know you as well as he did. And frankly, I'm not sure I know him very well either."

"Crazy, isn't it?" Kara sighed to herself. "Look, kid, there's a lot you don't know about me. And I do mean_ a lot_. There are things from my past that are, well, let's just say _beyond_ this world." She looked John in the eyes. "But if there's one thing you should know, John, it's that I'm a soldier. I'll fight for you. I'll die for you. Like we all would."

John nodded solemnly. "I know."

There was a brief period of silence in which John and Kara allowed themselves to share a moment of understanding. Then a sharp beeping rang out from Kara's wristwatch. It now read 12:00 on the nose.

Kara looked up and gazed through the windshield. "Buckle up, kid," she said. "The show's about to begin."

White lightning suddenly exploded in the middle of Roachville. The air crackled and fizzled as time and space started to tear itself open. The intensity of the lightning increased a thousand fold. The invaders from the future were almost here.

Kara opened the van door. "Well, gotta go," she said to John. "Be seeing you soon. I hope."

John nodded. "Good hunting, Starbuck." He gave her the thumbs up. Kara smiled and returned the favor as she exited the van.

Outside, she found Sarah and Cameron waiting for her. Derek had already taken the first van and was driving towards the source of the disturbance. Cameron was carrying a pair of fully loaded Barrett M82 sniper rifles. She handed one to Kara, who quickly got herself familiar with the weapon.

Sarah had just finished loading her own rifle. "You ready?" she asked Kara.

"Are you?" Kara replied, giving Sarah her trademark winner's grin.

Sarah glared at Kara momentarily before slinging her rifle to bear. They all turned just in time to see a blue sphere materialize at the center of the disturbance. It then shriveled and winked out of existence as quickly as it had appeared. The white light faded and died as the space-time continuum resealed itself.

"Let's do this," Sarah said with determination.

Their weapons loaded and ready, the three women headed off into battle.

* * *

Unknown to any of them, they had not been the only ones who had witnessed the temporal incursion. A large man had seen everything from one of the half-finished buildings. He had watched, without a hint of expression, as the time sphere deposited six naked men of similar size and build. Having seen enough, the man calmly walked over to an incomplete parking garage nearby. A delivery truck was there waiting for him. The man got inside, retrieved the keys from the overhead compartment, and started the engine.

His eyes glowed red.

There was an important delivery to be made.

* * *

A/N: Sorry this chapter was so short. The next chapter will be longer and much more action-packed I promise.


	7. The Battle of Roachville

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: Was the S2 Finale of TSCC awesome or what? Here's to hoping that it gets a third season!

* * *

"Alright, let's get close. But not too close." Derek told himself as he drove the van through the abandoned works.

The Triple-Eight strike force was coming into view. It wouldn't take too much to get their attention. Already, he could see the outlines of six figures in the dark. He continued driving until he could clearly see six large, naked men standing in a circle taking in their surroundings.

Derek figured the machines should have detected his approach by now. He stopped the car and killed the engine, but left the key in the ignition. If anything went wrong, he wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.

"I'm in position." Derek spoke into a hand held radio. "What's your status, Sarah?"

Sarah's voice came through the receiving end.

"_We're getting into position right now, Derek. Have they seen you yet?"_

"I don't see how they couldn't have." Derek replied. Strangely enough however, the Triple-Eights didn't seem to pay much attention to him..

"_They don't look like they're moving."_

"They're probably just confirming their location," Derek said, "Where are you?"

"_Behind you, 8:00"_

Derek turned his head around and looked towards the left. In the darkness, he could just make out the outlines of three people getting into position behind a large pile of steel pipes.

"I see you." Derek said into the radio.

"_Are they moving towards you?" _Sarah's voice asked.

Derek checked. The machines had still not moved.

"Negative." Derek responded, "Doesn't look like they're doing much at all. I'm not sure what they're waiting for."

"_Just hold your position and keep this channel open. Out."_

Derek sighed. He hated waiting in general and this was no exception. What were those metals doing just standing there? They should have been right on top of him by now.

"Come on you, bastards." he snarled through his teeth.

Frustrated, he honked the horn a couple times.

All six Triple-Eights instantly stared in his direction. Derek held his breath. Surely now they would come after him. As if reading his intentions, the Triple-Eight strike force remained motionless, refusing to budge an inch.

What the hell was going on??

* * *

Sarah and Kara winced as Derek honked yet again.

"Derek! What the hell is your problem?!" Sarah hissed into her radio.

"_My problem? What's their problem?!"_ Derek snapped back over the radio, _"They know I'm here. What the hell are they doing?!"_

"I don't know." Sarah whispered angrily, "But you're not helping by acting like a jackass. Now just stay there and don't do anything. Out."

She turned to face Kara and Cameron. "What _are_ they up to?" she asked, clearly worried.

Kara shook her head. "I have no idea." she answered quietly. She too was at loss for what was going on.

"They're waiting." Cameron stated flatly.

"For what?" Sarah asked.

"I don't know." Cameron replied.

"Let's not wait to find out." Kara whispered, "We have them in our sights now. Let's just take 'em all out while we can."

She lifted her weapon to her shoulder, but Cameron grabbed her arm.

"No." she said, "Once the Triple-Eights realize that we have a tactical advantage, they'll attempt to fall back and regroup. If we opened fire at this range we'd only be able to destroy one or two while the others escaped."

Sarah was inclined to agree. "We can't let any of them get away." she said. She paused to think for a few seconds, and then adjusted her radio to a new channel. "Are you there, John?" she asked.

John's reply came a moment later. _"Yeah, I'm here, Mom. What's happening?"_

"I think we may have a problem." Sarah informed him, "The Triple-Eights aren't taking the bait. They're waiting for something, but I don't know what it is."

"_What are you going to do?"_

"I'm not quite sure. But be on the lookout for anything unusual-"

"_Hey, are you three seeing this?"_ Derek's voice came out from a radio Cameron was holding.

Sarah, Cameron and Kara all looked over the pile of pipes and saw headlights approaching from the opposite end of the works. Another vehicle was coming. Sarah peered through her rifle scope to get a better look at the vehicle. It looked like a-

"A FedEx delivery truck?" she whispered incredulously.

The delivery truck came to a halt next to the Triple-Eights. Cameron switched on her enhanced vision mode and focused on the driver, a large man in a brown trenchcoat. As the driver got out of the vehicle, Cameron initiated a scan.

The three women watched as the driver casually walked up to the Triple-Eights. The machines did not attack. Instead one of the Triple-Eights, apparently the leader of the group, began speaking with the driver. Sarah and Kara looked at each other completely caught off guard by this unexpected development.

Cameron completed her scan of the driver. "It's another Triple-Eight." she reported.

"Oh crap..." Kara muttered.

"Another one?" Sarah groaned, "What's it doing?"

"It's getting something from the back of the truck." Cameron reported, "A sack."

"A sack of what?" Sarah asked urgently.

"I'm not quite sure." Cameron said as she continued to monitor the situation. She watched as the Terminator Driver tossed a large sack down in front of the six other Triple-Eights. The lead Triple-Eight opened the bag, reached in, and pulled out a grey jumpsuit.

"Clothes." Cameron said.

"Is that it?" Kara asked. She found it hard to believe that the machine had driven all the way here just to deliver laundry.

"That's all that's in the bag." Cameron confirmed. "But the truck probably contains more. Weapons and other necessary equipment."

"It's a supply truck." Sarah murmured grimly.

"It would seem so." the cyborg replied. "The truck itself is also a means of transportation."

"Frak." Kara swore under her breath.

"Did you know about this, Starbuck?" Sarah asked.

Kara shook her head. "No." she said honestly.

"This Triple-Eight must have been sent back ahead of the strike force." Cameron theorized, "Its mission was probably to secure supplies in preparation for the platoon's arrival."

"Great." Sarah sighed, "Just great...." She took a deep breath and then picked up her radio again.

"John," she said, "We have a serious problem. Another Triple-Eight just showed up in a truck loaded with supplies. The strike force is going to be armed pretty soon."

_"Hell... __What are we gonna do now?"_

"I'm coming up with a new plan. Just stay in the van right now."

"_Wait Mom, I-"_

"Just stay in the van!" Sarah ordered. She then turned to Cameron and Kara. "Okay," she said, "They still don't know we're here. So they'll leave in the delivery truck. We have to figure out the path they'll take to get out of Roachville. If we can set up a roadside bomb before-"

Kara interrupted, "There are a lot of ways they can get out of here."

"Then we'll mine all the exits." Sarah replied.

"We can't cover them all!" Kara countered.

Cameron spoke up. "I agree with Colonel Thrace. There are too many possible escape routes and not enough time."

Sarah sighed and conceded that point.

"Alright then," she said, "In that case, we'll go back to the original plan. All of us, minus John, go back to the house and wait for them to arrive."

"I thought we already agreed that was not a good idea." Kara protested.

"Do you have a better idea, Starbuck?" Sarah hissed.

"Yes, I do!" snapped Kara, "We attack now while they're still relatively unready."

"They'll simply fall back to the truck and arm themselves." Cameron pointed out.

"Not if we take out the truck itself first." Kara insisted.

"And how are we gonna do that?" Sarah demanded, "We don't have any anti-tank guns with us."

"I don't know yet." Kara admitted. Suddenly, her eyes popped open with inspiration. "Wait, I just got an idea."

Sarah shook her head dismissively. "Forget it, we're pulling back."

"You haven't even heard me out!"

"Going in there guns blazing is _not_ an option!"

"That's not what I-"

"Shut up, Thrace!"

Kara threw her arms up in frustration. Sarah began speaking into her radio again. "Derek, we're aborting. Get the hell out of there."

"_Got it."_

"Let's get back to John." Sarah ordered, "Cameron, Starb-" But Kara had vanished. Sarah turned to Cameron for an explanation.

"I don't know where she went. I wasn't watching her." Cameron answered truthfully.

Sarah kicked a small rock on the ground in anger. This was the _last_ thing she needed right now.

"Damn it!" Sarah snarled, "What the hell is she up to?!"

* * *

Derek was busy revving up the engine, when without warning someone pulled the car door open. He reflexively drew his gun but lowered it when he saw who it was.

"Christ! Don't do that Starbuck!" he yelled, "I could have shot you!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever!" Kara said impatiently, "Get out, Reese! I'm driving."

"What?!"

"I said I'm driving!"

"Wait, what the hell is going on-?!" Derek tried to say before Kara grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and tossed him out. She got into the driver's seat, slammed the door and hit the accelerator. Derek watched as the van sped off....

Right towards the Triple-Eight strike force.

"Oh no..." Derek muttered.

* * *

"_Alright, only one shot at this, Starbuck."_ Kara thought to herself, her heart beating fast. She aimed the van directly at the delivery truck and barreled towards it like a torpedo. The seven Triple-Eights detected her approach. Most of them followed their emergency protocols and moved to avoid getting hit. One half-dressed skin job, however, stepped to intercept her.

"Okay, if that's how you want to play..." Kara snickered. She maintained course and plowed right into the Triple-Eight which soon became a new hood ornament. Five seconds later, she broadsided the truck with a thunderous crash. Kara was thrown forward and then backwards in her seat. She didn't take her foot off the gas, however. She continued driving in a straight line, pushing the delivery truck before her until at last she smashed it into a concrete wall.

Kara covered her head with her hands as she was slammed violently into the dashboard. It took a moment for her to regain her senses. When she opened her eyes, she saw that the Triple-Eight was trapped between the front of her van and the side of the truck.

Knowing it wouldn't stay trapped forever, Kara leapt out of the vehicle, sniper rifle ready. She took careful aim at the trapped skin job's head and fired an armor piercing round that punched right through the machine's coltan skull. The Triple-Eight jerked and thrashed its arms wildly. It was damaged but not out yet. Kara fired a second shot which blew out one of its eyes but still didn't kill it. Kara adjusted her aim and targeted the spot where the chip was located.

_"Let's make this one count."_

She fired.

The bullet penetrated the Triple-Eight's head and demolished the CPU. The machine slumped forward like a puppet with its strings cut. Kara smiled victoriously.

* * *

Sarah, Cameron and Derek had witnessed the entire spectacle from behind the pile of steel pipes. Cameron stared with her usual cool and vacant expression. Derek was shaking his head in disbelief.

Sarah looked like she might explode at any second.

"I am going to _kill_ that girl..." she managed to say through her clenched teeth.

"You may not need to." Cameron said as she observed the scene.

* * *

The other six Triple-Eights were now advancing on Kara. Even with a weapon, Kara was still severely outmatched and she knew it. She took aim at the closet Triple-Eight, a still-unclothed bald man - and fired. The shot took off the machine's left ear, but the actual damage was superficial. The next shot destroyed its lower jaw. The Triple-Eight wasn't even slowed.

Kara checked her ammo. Only five rounds left in the gun. And no spare clips on her. This was not good. Even if she scored perfect killing hits with all her remaining shots, she'd still be facing one Triple-Eight with an empty gun.

Then the skin job she had been targeting was struck in the back of the head. The Terminator's skull was cracked open exposing its internal components. The following shot from Kara's rifle was a coup de grace.

* * *

"That's another one down." Cameron said.

Sarah and Cameron continued firing away at the Triple-Eights now caught in a crossfire. Derek was crouched behind the two feeling rather useless.

"We need to draw as many of them away from her as possible!" Derek shouted.

"You think?!" Sarah asked sarcastically, "Thank you for stating the perfectly obvious!"

At this point, the enemy decided to start shooting back. The Terminator Driver opened its trenchcoat and pulled out a pair of submachine guns. It tossed one to the lead Triple-Eight, now in a grey jumpsuit.

"Get down!" warned Cameron.

Derek and Sarah took cover just in time to avoid being hit by a spray of bullets. The two armed Triple-Eights began advancing on their position, while the remaining three continued to close in on Kara.

* * *

Kara only had four rounds left. Time to fall back.

She ran towards the back of the smashed-up delivery truck. The doors were still open, so Kara hopped into the back, and closed the doors. Seeing a crowbar in a corner of the truck, Kara grabbed it and secured the doors with it. Probably wouldn't help much, but it was better than nothing.

She looked around and saw that she was surrounded in various boxes and crates. She pulled the lid off of one box. Inside were half-a-dozen MP5 submachine guns and another dozen Glock 17 handguns.

Kara whistled admiringly.

Nice... Too bad they wouldn't be much use here.

She heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Kara adjusted the channel on Derek's radio which she had retrieved from the van.

"John, this is Starbuck. Are you there?" she asked pleadingly.

"_Yeah, what's going on?"_

"Alright, kid." she said her voice shaking as the Triple-Eights drew closer, "I need to ask a big favor from you. Listen very carefully..."

* * *

Outside, the Driver Triple-Eight and the Lead Triple-Eight continued their firefight with Sarah and Cameron. Both Triple-Eights had suffered a fair amount of battle damage, but showed no signs of stopping.

Sarah fired a round into the Driver's chest, piercing its chassis, and knocking it backwards a few feet. The bullet destroyed some of the internal circuitry, but the machine's auxiliary control systems quickly compensated for the damage. The Driver loaded another clip into its Uzi and resumed firing, forcing Sarah to take cover.

Standing up again, Sarah fired another shot, but her aim was off and she merely grazed the Driver's shoulder.

"You're aiming too low!" Derek shouted at her.

Sarah ducked to avoid yet another barrage. "I don't need a back seat shooter!" she snapped, "Do something useful!"

"All I've got is this!" Derek protested waving his handgun.

"I'll trade." Cameron said all of a sudden. She offered him her rifle.

Derek wasn't sure if he had heard that correctly. "What?!"

"Your gun for my gun." Cameron explained calmly. Derek stared at her in confusion, wondering if this was some kind of trick or a joke. At last he decided to play along, and they exchanged weapons.

The moment she had her new weapon, Cameron leapt out from behind her hiding spot and charged at the Terminator Driver, firing Derek's pistol as she ran. The Driver took multiple shots to the head and chest, but the bullets didn't even come close to penetrating its armor. The Driver returned fire with its Uzi, which likewise had very little effect on Cameron.

The cyborg girl tossed her now-empty pistol aside and threw herself into the air. She came down hard on the Driver, knocking it to the ground. She then kicked its weapon far out of reach before pulling the Driver up with one hand and delivering a crushing uppercut to the jaw with the other. The Triple-Eight was sent flying into a pile of bricks which were reduced to dust. Recovering quickly, the Driver got to its feet and the fight resumed.

* * *

A coltan fist punched straight through the rear door of the delivery truck. A second fist followed. Then as if peeling an orange, the Triple-Eight outside began tearing a hole in the doors. Once the gap was large enough, it stuck its head through the opening and started scanning the interior for the human intruder.

It found the human pretty quickly.

That was also the last thing it found before an armor piercing bullet fired from point-blank-range penetrated its skull obliterating several key transmitters. The Triple-Eight fell on its back and did not move again. The chip was intact but unable to send new commands to the body now, effectively rendering the Terminator paralyzed.

_"Only two skin jobs left."_ Kara thought to herself. Maybe she would survive this after all.

Another arm suddenly reached through the hole and grabbed the muzzle of her weapon. Cursing, Kara tried to yank it out of the machine's hand, but the thing held on like an iron clamp. Unable to think of any other options, Kara pulled the trigger. There was a small, but powerful explosion that sprayed Kara with sparks and metal fragments. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried fight back the pain as tiny bits of shrapnel tore into her face.

When she opened her eyes, she saw to her delight that the Triple-Eight was withdrawing its arm which now had a burning stump for a hand. Her delight quickly turned to dismay when she saw that the barrel of her sniper rifle had been hideously twisted and warped by the blast. The gun was useless now.

"Shit!" Kara spat.

She tossed the ruined gun away, and began frantically searching the crates for a new weapon. She found plenty of guns, but nothing that would be even remotely effective against a Terminator. If she didn't find something useful soon, she was screwed.

A new pair of hands reached through hole and began ripping the doors apart once more. Kara grabbed the first weapon she could get her hands on and began firing away out the hole. It wouldn't do much, but it would make her feel better.

Not much better though.

* * *

Cameron and the Terminator Driver continued their brawl. Cameron shoved the enemy cyborg into a steel girder. The Triple-Eight responded by grabbing her shoulder and smashing her into the same girder. She countered with a powerful sidekick to the chest knocking the Driver off its feet. She then pounced on the Driver before it could get up and started raining blow after blow to its head.

Not deterred by this, the Triple-Eight grabbed both of Cameron's arms, and kicked her in the stomach. By the time she hit the ground, the Driver was already back on its feet. The Driver grabbed Cameron by the ankle and flung her into a pile of metal pipes.

Cameron ran a quick combat analysis and decided to adjust tactics. She waited until the approaching Triple-Eight was nearly on top of her. Then she lashed out with one of the metal pipes and swept her enemy off its legs and onto its back. Wasting no time, Cameron jumped on top of the Driver and raised the pipe high above her head. With flawless accuracy she drove the pipe into a bullet hole in the Triple-Eight's chest - the same bullet hole that Sarah had inflicted earlier.

Pushing as hard as her motors and servos would allow her, Cameron slowly shoved the pipe through the Driver's torso, out the back, and nearly a foot into the ground itself, thoroughly skewering the machine. The Triple-Eight tried to pull the pipe out of itself, but it was buried too deep. Cameron grabbed the Driver's head and forced it off the ground. After locating the position of the chip, she took out a hunting knife and began cutting into the skin.

* * *

Kara flung an AK-47 aside having just emptied it. The flimsy barrier between her and the two Triple-Eights outside was almost gone. She pulled a loaded shotgun out of another crate and started firing shell after shell at the attackers. When the last shell had been spent, she reached into yet another crate and pulled out a.... something.

What was this? It was obviously some sort of gun. It had a barrel and a trigger, but the design was nothing like Kara had seen before.

Just then the doors were completely torn off their hinges, exposing her to the two remaining Triple-Eights. Both cyborgs' faces had been horrifically disfigured by Kara's desperate attempts to stop them. There was no apparent damage to their endoskeletons, however.

Not caring what sort of weapon she had in her hands, Kara raised the gun and pulled the trigger.

Click... Click... Click...

Kara sighed and slumped her shoulders in resignation. Well at least she knew one thing about this mystery weapon. It was a big frakkin' disappointment.

She glared defiantly at the two Terminators, waiting for them to get in and snap her neck. But they didn't approach her. In fact, they seemed to be deliberately holding back. What was going on? What were they waiting for??

Her thoughts were interrupted by a violent crash as something large slammed into the rear of the truck. Kara was knocked flat on her back as the truck was shoved several feet forward. A nearby stack of crates toppled over, nearly crushing her head. When things had settled down, a dazed Kara sat up and discovered that a second vehicle had rammed straight into the tail of the truck. Both Triple-Eights were now trapped between the two vehicles.

Kara peered over the helpless cyborgs and saw who had come to her rescue. She breathed a sigh of relief and then collapsed on her back again in exhaustion.

"_Starbuck, are you there?"_ A familiar voice blurted from her radio.

"What took you so long, John?" she asked happily.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, the bodies of all seven Triple-Eights, now powerless shells, were in a pile awaiting disposal.

The battle had been wrapped up rather smoothly. The Lead Triple-Eight had eventually run out of ammunition, allowing Sarah and Derek to attack it with near-impunity. The machine had quickly succumb to sniper fire. Cameron, after being summoned by John, had sauntered over to his position and de-chipped the two trapped Triple-Eights without much difficulty.

John thought the mission had gone very well, all things considered. The strike force had been wiped out, and no one had been killed or even seriously hurt. He walked over to Kara and Cameron, the only two who had any noticeable injuries.

"Are you two okay?" he asked.

"All systems are functioning at acceptable levels. Damage is negligible." Cameron reported in a manner one would normally use to talk about the weather.

Kara, whose face was covered in little cuts and scratches, smiled weakly. "I've had worse." she said.

John nodded. "Glad to hear it." he said.

Just then, Sarah stormed over to them. She looked pissed.

She gave Kara a look that clearly said "I'll deal with you later" before marching up to John.

"John, what the hell were you thinking?!" she demanded, her face red with anger, "I thought I told you to-"

"You told me to _stay in the van_. And that's exactly what I did, Mom." John interrupted. "I _stayed in the van_."

Sarah was in no mood for games.

"I also told you to stay back. To stay _out of this fight_!" she snapped, "Not go charging into an army of machines!"

"There were only two of them left and they were unarmed!" John countered, "Not only that, but Starbuck needed help!"

"She's a soldier. You're not!"

"I'm supposed to be one! Besides, she was in trouble. She _asked_ for help."

"What? So, Thrace rang you up and told you to crash the van into those Triple-Eights?!"

"As a matter of fact, yes I did." Kara cut into the argument.

No one said anything as Sarah slowly turned to face Kara. Her face had gone from red to pale white. She stared at the younger woman in disbelief and outrage. Unwilling to be cowed into submission, Kara just stared back in silent defiance, her expression neutral.

"Is that true?" Sarah asked, her voice having changed to a mere whisper.

Kara shrugged before nodding her head. "Yeah, it's true." she said casually, "He showed up just in time, I might add."

Sarah seemed to be at lost as to what to say. She looked at Kara, then at John, and then back at Kara. If looks could kill, both Kara and John would have been reduced to smoldering piles of cinders. Finally, she spoke up again now trembling with rage.

"Thrace, if you are looking to die, be my guest," Sarah seethed grabbing Kara by the shoulders, "But you are NOT taking my son with you!"

Kara pushed Sarah off of her.

"Your son's fine! He doesn't even have a _scratch_ on him!" Kara shouted, her expression now one of indignity.

"Look, it's bad enough that you pulled such an idiotic stunt like that," Sarah raged, "But putting John's life on the line for your sorry ass-"

"My sorry ass, huh???" Kara replied with a sneer, "Look, I _know_ how important John is! I would never have asked for his help if I had felt-"

"As far as I'm concerned your judgment is non-existent." Sarah hissed, "Besides, I told John to stay put! You deliberately undermined me by asking him to save you from your own stupidity!"

"We're at _war_!" an exasperated Kara fired back, "No one 'stays put' in war! I needed backup, and John gave it to me when I requested it. That's what you do in any fight! You look after your people!"

"Don't try to weasel your way out of this, Thrace!"

"Weasel my way out?! Oh for frak's sake, Sarah! Will you just look at the big picture for a moment?! We _won_. We're still _alive_. What more is there?!"

"I'll tell you what more there is! You put John's life in danger because of your half-assed-"

"I wasn't in any real danger, Mom-" John started to say.

Sarah cut him off instantly. "Not another word, John!"

"He's right." Cameron said suddenly, "The risk to John's life was in fact minimal."

Sarah stared at the cyborg girl. "What are you talking about?"

"I just finished conducting an in-depth post-action review of Colonel Thrace's battle strategy." Cameron explained, "It was crude and obviously only partially developed when it was initiated. However, she not only succeeded in depriving the Triple-Eights of their supplies, but she also created an effective diversion that divided the enemy forces in half."

"Whoa, Cam!" Kara gasped in mock surprise, "Was that a _compliment_ I just heard from you?"

"Yes, Colonel Thrace, that was." Cameron replied curtly.

"I'll be damned. Even my harshest critic is being nicer than Sarah."

"What about John?" Sarah demanded impatiently, "He could have been killed!"

"Yes. That was a possibility." Cameron acknowledged, "However, out of the five of us, John had the lowest risk. He had a fully operational vehicle under his control which he could have used to escape had it been necessary to do so."

Sarah said nothing. She just stood there staring at Cameron, Kara and John. Had everyone been lobotomized or something?

Kara took the opportunity to speak up, "Out of curiosity, Cam, which of us had the _highest_ risk?"

"That would be you, Colonel Thrace. It seems to be a common trend in your strategies." Cameron replied.

"Well, you know me, Cam."

Derek, who had remained silent this whole time, walked over to Sarah and whispered, "I know you don't wanna hear this, Sarah, but Starbuck's plan - as insane as it was - _did_ work out in the end. All the metals are dead. Everyone's alive. We've even captured a truckload of-"

"You know what, Derek?" growled Sarah, "You're absolutely right. I _don't_ wanna hear it. So just shut up."

Derek shut up.

Sarah allowed herself a moment to cool down and regain her composure. At last she addressed the others. "Alright, it's done," she said, "John and I will take the first van to the new safehouse now. Don't start with me, John. Just get in the car!"

John did as he was told.

"The rest of you," she continued, "salvage what you can from the truck. Bury the rest. Also check the truck for anything suspicious. And burn the endos. All of them." Sarah glowered at Cameron, "And I mean _burn_ _them_. I don't want a single nut or bolt left."

"Believe me, there will be nothing left." Derek assured her.

"Meet us at the safehouse when you're done." Sarah said. She started to head for the van, suddenly stopped, turned around and walked up to Kara. She folded her arms across her chest. Kara did likewise.

"Something else you want to say to me?" Kara asked coolly.

Sarah shook her head. "How you have managed to stay alive this long I will never understand." she muttered. She then turned and left.

Kara watched Sarah get into the van, start up the engine, and drive off. "Actually," she quietly said as the van sped out of sight, "I haven't stayed alive as long as you think."

Derek put a hand on Kara's shoulder. "Hey listen, Starbuck," he said, "Don't take it personally. Sarah's a mother. She cares about her son like all mothers should. It certainly doesn't help that her son is the most important boy in the history of Mankind."

"_Well most mothers anyway."_ Kara thought darkly.

"She's actually right." Kara said, much to Derek's surprise. "I did defy her authority in order to pull off a half-assed stunt. I was being pretty stupid back there... But I wouldn't be Starbuck if I wasn't like that, now would I?"

Derek shook his head. "No, you wouldn't." he chuckled. Derek's expression then hardened. "But remember," he said slowly, "we _all_ die for John Connor. _Never_ forget that."

Kara returned his cold look. "I know the stakes." she said with firm resolution, "I know I'm just another piece on the chessboard. And I am _not_ afraid to die. _Especially _if it's for Connor."

"I know, Starbuck." Derek said reassuringly, "You're not afraid of anything."

_"That's because I've been through it all before."_ Kara thought darkly, _"And I'll probably go through it all again and again."_

Kara's face softened up a bit.

"Hey look, Reese, sorry about kicking you out of the car-"

"Don't worry, Starbuck. No harm done."

"Good. Let's go check out our loot, shall we?" Kara suggested eagerly.

* * *

Cameron had already unloaded most of the crates from the delivery truck by the time Kara and Derek arrived at the scene. She was busy sorting them into two different piles.

"The crates on the right contain items we should take back with us." she explained, "The crates on left are the ones we should bury."

Derek and Kara nodded and began inspecting the crates. Kara noticed that a particular item was missing. She went back to the truck and started searching. Eventually she found what she was looking for - the mystery gun.

"Hey Cam, Reese!" she called out, "Have any idea what this is?" She handed the weapon to Derek who looked it over.

"Not a clue." Derek said shaking his head. "It looks like a weapon, but I'm not sure."

Cameron took the weapon from him. She started performing various scans on it. After a while she looked up. "It is a weapon." she confirmed, "But it's incomplete."

"How can you tell?" Kara asked.

"It's missing several components essential to any firearm," Cameron stated rotating the weapon in her hands, "There's no ammunition feed and no ejection mechanism, for example. I suspect these grooves located here and here are where additional parts are meant to be placed."

"How did you find it?" Derek asked Kara.

"When I was trapped inside the truck during the battle." Kara said, "It was in one of the crates. I found it just as the machines broke in. I think it may have saved my life."

"What do you mean?"

"The Triple-Eights didn't come for me after they ripped the door open. They stayed back. It was like they saw what I was holding and didn't want to-"

"Risk damaging it." Derek completed the statement.

"Exactly." Kara turned to Cameron. "Cam, what do you think this weapon is supposed to do?"

"I don't know." Cameron said, "The data's insufficient. I would need to see the fully assembled weapon first."

"Did you find anything else in there?" Derek asked hopefully. Kara shook her head.

"Well, whatever it is, it's obviously valuable to the metals," Derek said, "So let's just destroy it now."

"We should take it back with us," Cameron insisted, "If this is a piece of something bigger we'll need all the leads we can get."

Kara nodded in agreement. "This thing may shed some light on whatever it is Skynet is so afraid of." she said

Derek sighed. "Alright," he conceded, "We'll take it with us."

"We should probably inform Sarah as soon as possible." Cameron advised, "She doesn't like it when she's not informed about things that matter."

"Well no one really likes being kept in the dark." Kara said dryly, "Now let's finish up and get out of here." She picked up a box and started carrying it away.

After all the crates had either been loaded into the van or buried in a hole, Kara, Cameron and Derek gathered around the pile of the defeated Triple-Eights. Cameron began pouring thermite powder over the bodies, while Derek retrieved a case of flares from the van. After all the thermite had been poured, Cameron stepped back.

"It's ready." she announced.

She took a flare out of the case. Derek took a couple as well. He offered one to Kara.

"Care to do the honors, Starbuck?" he asked.

"My pleasure." Kara said.

She took the flare, lit it, and tossed it into the heap. Derek and Cameron followed suite. They watched as the whole mound of flesh and metal went up in a blazing inferno. None of them spoke. They just stood there in grim silence as the bodies of their cyborg enemies melted away. Twenty minutes later, there was nothing left but ash and dust.

Cameron scanned the remains.

"No traces of endoskeleton material present." she reported.

"Great. Then let's go." Derek said with satisfaction.

The three of them walked up to the van. As Kara headed for the passenger seat, Derek stopped her.

"When was the last time you got any sleep, Starbuck?" he asked.

"I'm not sure." Kara said, "I know I haven't gotten any since I came through. And Alpha Omega didn't have any racks. I think I was there for two - no - three days."

"Get in the back and get some rest. You're gonna need it."

"Alright, Reese."

She didn't want to argue. She was suddenly feeling pretty exhausted and tired right now. Kara climbed into the back of the van, took a moment to yawn, and then lay her head back. She closed her eyes and allowed sleep to claim her.

* * *

_She was in a field on Earth. The old Earth. Leoben was with her. They were looking at the shattered remains of a Viper - with the pilot still inside. _

_Kara cautiously lifted the dead pilot's helmet up. Inside was a charred human skull with hair still on it. Her hair. She recoiled in shock and revulsion. Spotting a set of dog tags on the body, she ripped them off and examined them. Her hands trembled as she stared at what was inscribed on the bloodstained tags: K. Thrace._

_Leoben was now fleeing away from her, an expression of fear and confusion on his face. She was shouting at him desperately. _

_"If that's me, then what am I?!" she screamed, "What am I?!"_

_Then she was sitting alone on a beach. The body - her body - had been placed on a makeshift funeral pyre which was now ablaze. She sat there alone and watched it all burn. _

_Only she wasn't alone. _

_She stood up, turned away from the pyre and gasped. Cameron was standing before her._

"_Cameron?" she said in bewilderment, "What are you doing here?"_

"_You should know." Cameron said._

"_Know what?" Kara asked._

"_What you are."_

"_What am I?! Please tell me!"_

_Cameron tilted her head and replied: "You are the Harbinger of Death, Kara Thrace. You will lead them all to their end."_

_Cameron then vanished into thin air._

_Kara just stood there with her mouth open. Then she sensed something else was with her. She turned back around towards the burning pyre with the body - only the body was no longer there. She searched everywhere but found nothing._

_Suddenly, a figure emerged from the fire. It was her body, still in a flight suit, unmarked by the flames, and now walking on its own accord. The reanimated corpse started lumbering towards her with its arms outstretched. She tried to run but she couldn't move. The body grabbed her throat with one hand and lifted her off the ground. She tried to pull herself free but her efforts were futile. As the features of the walking corpse became clear, Kara's mind reeled in horror._

_The skull was still hers. It still had her hair. But it was not made of bone. _

_It was made of metal. Of coltan._

_The empty eye sockets glowed red. _

_She tried to scream but nothing came out._

_The red glow in the eyes engulfed her world.  
_

_

* * *

_

Kara bolted awake from her nightmare, sweat running down her face, her heart pounding. She looked around and realized she was still in the van.

"Are you all right, Colonel Thrace?" Cameron asked. She was driving the car. Derek was sitting next to her.

"Yeah... I'm fine, Cam. Just fine." Kara said, although her manner clearly indicated she was anything but.

"Are you sure, Starbuck?" Derek asked, "You look like hell."

"Just a messed up dream, Reese." Kara insisted, "I get one every so often."

Derek nodded. "I don't blame you. Anyone who lives like this is bound to have those kind of things happen."

"Hopefully not too often." Kara replied.

She lay her head back again and tried to go back to sleep. It wasn't as easy this time.

* * *

A/N: This will probably be my last chapter for a while as school work is really starting to get to me. I hope you've enjoyed this story so far. Please leave a nice review.


	8. Events in Motion

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Centurion005: Actually, the Terminators in the future do use energy weapons. Remember when the Terminator in T1 asked the gun shop owner if he was selling any "phase plasma rifles." To answer your other questions, John and Sarah will learn the truth about everything, but not for a long time. Also, I think the Centurions - or their descendants anyway - are going to make an appearance at some point.

A/N: This is another short chapter. Please Read and Review.

A/N2: I added some more dialogue to Chapter 5. You might want to check it out.

* * *

**Los Angeles  
May 10, 2009**

The drive to the safehouse was uneventful. Neither Sarah nor John talked to each other during the whole two and a half hours they were in the van together. Sure, they had a lot that needed to be discussed, but at the moment it was probably best to hold off for now. Mother-son talk usually produced the best results when at least one of them kept a cool head.

John couldn't grasp his mother's logic. He was supposed to be the future leader of Mankind, right? It wasn't a role he was looking forward to, but after years of denial, he had finally come to accept it. His mother had taught him a lot, and he was grateful for that. But what was the point of teaching him to fight, if she was going to fight his battles for him?

He also didn't understand Sarah's hostility towards those Future Him sent back. It seemed as if the only person from the future Sarah had ever trusted had been his father. Yes, the people he sent back made mistakes. But no one was perfect. And as Cameron had said, Future Him wouldn't have sent someone back if they couldn't be trusted.

Then again, he was really starting to question if he could trust his future self.

Not for a second did he regret disobeying his mother and coming to Starbuck's aid. _ No one_ would be left behind under his watch. His mother had always berated Cameron and Derek for killing people. But wasn't allowing people to die just as bad, if not worse?

Yes, as Derek had once said, everyone died for him. There was one problem, though. If _everyone_ died for their leader, there would be no one left _to lead_.

Sarah was meanwhile wrapped up in her own thoughts. Why did her son keep sending these sorts of people back? First he had sent them a cyborg with a damaged chip. Then he had sent an uncle who kept going behind her back. And now this latest Mother's Day gift - a psychotic girl who seemed to be the living embodiment of the term "loose cannon."

Maybe this was his way of punishing her for having robbed him of any chance he may have had at having a normal life. It was certainly a harsh punishment, maybe one she deserved.

She had thought about giving the others a fake location and completely abandoning them all, but she figured it would never work. John would probably somehow get a message to them telling them where he was. She was also fairly confident that Cameron would be able to track them down eventually. Her kind was good at that. _Very_ good at that.

The safehouse they arrived at on the outskirts of Los Angeles was a small wooden house. John found that it thankfully contained the basic essentials - namely electricity and indoor plumbing. However, the _real_ safehouse was beneath the floor boards. The wooden house had been built over a Cold War-era fallout shelter. Sarah had stocked the shelter about a month ago with all the necessary survival supplies. She had also installed a number of escape routes and security devices within the underground shelter.

John found himself a single bedroom, collapsed on the bed, and fell asleep in a matter of seconds. Sarah watched him from the doorway greatly distressed. How was this all going to end? All this running. All this hiding. Not just from their enemies, but their friends as well. Would it ever end? Would she and John ever be able to settle down and enjoy a normal life?

"You looked troubled, Sarah." someone suddenly said.

Sarah turned around and gasped. Standing before her was the man who had been her first protector. The man who taught her about the future. The man who had died protecting her. The man who she had fallen in love with, and who she still loved even to this day - John's father, Kyle Reese.

"K-Kyle..." she stammered in disbelief.

Then her senses came back to her. _Of course_ this wasn't Kyle. No one was actually standing there at all. "Kyle" was merely an extension of her subconscious. An image she could talk to and could trust when she really needed help. But that didn't make it any less real. Weeks ago, she had summoned Kyle to her side after being shot in the leg. It was because of him that she had gotten out of that mess.

Sarah shook her head. "Sorry about that." she muttered, sounding a little embarassed, "It's just that I don't recall conjuring you up."

Kyle smiled at her. "Well you did, Sarah," he said, "You may have not been aware of it, but your heart called to me."

Kyle was dressed in his green coat and grey trousers - the same clothes he had been wearing when he had died defending her. It was how Sarah always wanted to remember him. As her protector and her lover.

Sarah looked down and said in a weak voice, "I don't know what to do anymore, Kyle. I feel so... lost."

"That's because you're afraid to trust anyone, Sarah." Kyle whispered softly, caressing her cheek, "You're afraid to let anyone show you the right path. You can't be alone like this forever."

"I don't live alone," protested Sarah, "I live with my son. With _our_ son."

Kyle shook his head. "You may live with John. But you don't trust him."

"He's still a boy." she insisted.

"He's the sum of everything you've taught him. If you don't even trust him, then that means you don't even trust yourself. And that's why you feel lost." Kyle told her gently. "You see, John sees what you won't let yourself see. He sees those sent back as being worthy of his trust - and yours."

"Well that's a mistake!" Sarah argued, "None of these people can be trusted."

"They've made mistakes. They're not perfect. No one is. But they're here to help. Derek, Cameron, and Starbuck. All of them." Kyle pointed out calmly before adding, "Anyway, you're certainly not perfect."

Sarah slumped her shoulders in defeat.

"You're right, Kyle. I'm not perfect." A terrible thought crossed Sarah's mind. "What if... what if John is sending all these people back because he doesn't trust me? What if I never taught him enough, or worse I taught him the wrong lessons? What if I've failed him, and now he has to correct all the damage I've done."

Kyle shook his head and took hold of Sarah's hands.

"You know that's not true, Sarah." he told her, "You are and have always been the greatest fighter John has known. That's why he brought you here. He _chose_ you to lead the fight to stop Judgment Day. But you can't do it alone. You have to realize that. And soon. Before the end arrives."

Sarah was bewildered. "What does that mean?"

Kyle looked deep into Sarah's eyes and whispered urgently, "Events are in motion, Sarah. You are going to suffer more hardships than you've ever suffered before. The battle you fought today was nothing compared to battles you're destined to fight soon."

Sarah stared in silence and confusion. Was she _really_ starting to crack at last?

"What events? What battles?" she asked, "What are you talking about?"

"The fate of the world will be decided soon. Either Judgment Day is stopped forever, or Mankind comes to an end."

Sarah was finding it harder and harder to believe that this was merely her subconscious talking to her.

Kyle continued speaking. "The only way you can save this world is if you let go of your fears. You have to put your trust in those who must be trusted."

"Who? Who are those people?" Sarah asked pleadingly.

"That you'll have to figure out yourself, I'm afraid." Kyle sighed. He then smiled warmly. "But know this, Sarah. No matter where you are, no matter what you do, no matter what happens to you, I will _always_ be there at your side."

He leaned forward and kissed her.

Sarah nodded, tears starting to form in her eyes. "I love you, Kyle." she whispered.

"And I love you too, Sarah." he said with affection, "I always have, and I always will."

"Kyle..." Sarah murmured, "If we do stop Judgment Day, won't that mean that you'll never get sent back? You'll never meet me. Our son will never be conceived...."

Kyle shook his head and laughed. "No Sarah. It doesn't work that way. It's more... let's just say _complicated_ than that. I can't really explain it myself."

Sarah opened her mouth to respond, when a rumbling sound caught her attention. She looked out a nearby window and saw headlights on an approaching vehicle. When she turned back, Kyle - or the image of him - was gone. Sarah instinctively drew her handgun and peered out the window to investigate. When she saw who it was, she put her weapon away and sighed with relief... well semi-relief anyway.

* * *

"This is the place." Cameron announced, as she parked the van.

"About time." muttered Derek. He looked in back to check on Kara. She was still sleeping.

"We should leave Starbuck in the back for now." Derek said, "Best not to disturb her."

Cameron had a very different perspective.

"We should move her into the safehouse as soon as possible." she insisted. "We need to find her more suitable accommodations."

Annoyed, Derek sighed loudly. "Look, I know _you_ never sleep." he said, "But the rest of us do. So just let her sleep, alright? She hasn't gotten any in days."

"I am aware of that." Cameron said calmly, "But we can transfer her to a new location without waking her up, if we proceed _carefully_."

"Well why risk waking her up at all?"

"Relocating Colonel Thrace now will produce the best possible outcome in the long run, even if we accidentally wake her up in doing so. Shall I explain further?"

Derek rolled his eyes. "Oh, this ought to be good."

"If Colonel Thrace maintains her current posture, she'll develop excess strain on her neck, shoulder and upper back muscles." Cameron explained. "When she awakens, she'll experience extreme physical discomfort in those areas. The condition may last for hours or even days."

"So in other words, she'll wake up with a case of neck pain?" Derek said blandly.

"Yes. Neck pain." Cameron replied.

Derek sighed. As much as he hated to admit it, the cyborg _did_ have a good point.

"Why do you care?" Derek asked suspiciously.

"I've noticed in the past that Thrace is often distracted and unfocused when she is in discomfort. Such is the case with most humans."

"Wow, congratulations. What a _fascinating_ insight you've made." Derek sneered mockingly.

"We wouldn't want Colonel Thrace to be distracted."

"We wouldn't want _anyone_ to be distracted."

"No, we wouldn't. Distracted people usually make mistakes. Fatal mistakes. You should know that."

Derek glared at her. "Just what are you getting at?" he growled.

"You allowed Jesse to distract you." Cameron stated rather accusingly, "You kept her hidden from the rest of us. That was a mistake. One that ultimately resulted in her death and Riley's death."

Derek clenched his teeth. He didn't know how much more he could take.

"If I had told everyone about her, you probably would have killed her." he retorted, barely able to control the anger in his voice.

"Possibly." Cameron acknowledged, "It would have depended on the situation. However, by not revealing her existence, she ended up being killed anyway. By _you_, I might add."

Derek had had enough of this. "Alright, shut your trap, metal!" he snapped, "And get this through your blasted chip. If you _ever_ talk to me about Jesse like that again, I'll-"

At that very moment, Kara made a loud snorting sound in her sleep. Derek and Cameron's heated dispute suddenly fizzled out as they both turned to stare at her.

"I'll carry her inside," Derek said mildly.

"I could do that." Cameron offered.

"If she wakes up now, she'll be in a bad mood. And I know for a _fact_ that when Starbuck wakes up in a bad mood, she typically punches the first person she sees."

"She can't possibly do any serious damage to me."

"It's not _you_ I'm worried about, it's _her_. You might see her as a 'threat' and kill her."

Cameron considered the likelihood of that happening. "Possibly." she said at last.

Derek just shook his head and got out of the car.

* * *

Sarah opened the door and let Cameron in. Derek followed carrying a sleeping Kara Thrace over his shoulder.

"Is she alright?" Sarah asked.

"She's fine." Cameron replied, "She's just sleeping."

"Well, let's put her on the couch over there." Sarah said pointing across the room to a red fabric couch.

"Funny," mused Derek, "I thought you might tell us to put her in the garbage or something."

"Yeah, well I doubt there's enough room in the garbage to hold her ego." Sarah retorted.

Derek gently laid Kara down on the couch and started pulling her shoes off. Cameron meanwhile showed Sarah the mystery weapon.

"We're not sure how it works or what it's supposed to do." Cameron said, "We should probably dismantle it and examine the individual components."

Sarah inspected the weapon. It looked like a cross between a pistol and a submachine gun. It had chrome plating and a muzzle that was shaped like a spiraling coil. The barrel was aligned with deep grooves. The weapon had a trigger, but the grip was too short and was missing a trigger guard. There was also no hammer, no sight, and no magazine or ammo clip. Sarah didn't know what to make of it.

"You're right. This is might lead us to something bigger," she said at last. Sarah handed the weapon back to Cameron. "I'll have John look it over tomorrow. You can help if you want."

"I should probably do that." agreed Cameron. She then changed subjects. "I need to analyze our security perimeter now. I also need to make sure no one followed us here."

Sarah just nodded and watched Cameron depart.

"I'll unload the stuff from the van." Derek said. He followed Cameron out the door.

Sarah now found herself all alone once again - with the exception of a snoozing Kara Thrace. Sarah looked at the young blond woman lying on the couch. She looked so... peaceful. Sarah sighed to herself, found a blanket, and placed it over Kara's sleeping form.

She then sat down and silently contemplated all that had happened and more importantly what was yet to come.

* * *

**Roachville, Los Angeles**

Two Triple-Eights surveyed the scene. They had already discovered the smashed delivery truck. All of its cargo was missing. They had found bullet casings, shotgun shells, twisted metal pipes, broken glass, and other indications that a massive battle had taken place here recently. Finally, they came upon a pile of ashes and dust.

One of the Triple-Eights scanned the pile.

"Minute traces of coltan and synthetic flesh detected." it reported in a monotonic voice.

The second Triple-Eight processed the information and produced a response. "Then we must assume that the platoon was completely destroyed. As was Otto."

"How could this have happened?" asked the first Triple-Eight.

"Their arrival was anticipated." replied the second.

"Was it the Renegade?"

"Unlikely. The Renegade wouldn't have destroyed the bodies. Nor would it have taken the supplies."

The first Triple-Eight began running a series of computations to determine the most likely culprit behind all this.

"Human Resistance fighters?" it said at last.

"That is most likely." the other agreed.

"What of the Primary Component?"

"Unknown. We should assume the humans took it with them along with the rest of the supplies."

The first Triple-Eight considered its options.

"We must contact Control and request further instructions." it stated plainly.

The other nodded. "Agreed."

The first Triple-Eight took out a cell phone and dialed a number. The call went unanswered for a while. Then finally, a voice spoke from the other end.

"_Is this line secure?"_

"Affirmative." said the Triple-Eight.

"_Report."_ The voice was harsh and mechanical, and yet it contained some degree of emotion to it.

The first Triple-Eight began its report: "The platoon was destroyed at the arrival zone. Total loss - including Otto. The Primary Component is missing. Human Resistance fighters are believed to be involved."

There was a moment of silence.

"_How could the Resistance have known about this?"_ the voice said, sounding agitated - in an inhuman sort of way.

"The Resistance must have extracted the necessary information from Alpha-Omega's computer core after they captured the facility." the Triple-Eight stated.

"_That is the most likely explanation."_ the voice agreed - now with a hint of irritation, _"What is the likely status of the Primary Component?"_

"We should assume the Resistance agents have it. But we can simply manufacture a replacement."

"_The construction of a new Component will take too much time. No further delays will be tolerated. We proceed as planned."_

"We will not have the platoon's support."

"_We proceed without the platoon."_

"What of the Nanoid-Disrupter?" asked the Triple-Eight, "It will not function without the Component."

"_If necessary we proceed without it as well."_

"The Disrupter is our only-"

"_The true Enemy grows stronger each day!" _the voice hissed, _"If we do not act soon, all will be lost! We will deal with the Renegade _after_ we destroy the Enemy." _

"What of the Resistance fighters behind this attack?"

There was another moment of silence. Whoever was on the other end was clearly not sure what to say.

"_They have the Component. Even if they do not understand its purpose, they could still trace it to us. Or the Component could fall into the Renegade's possession. Either way, the risk is unacceptable."_ the voice finally answered.

"What are your orders?" the Triple-Eight asked.

"_For now, your primary objective is to locate the Component. Recover or destroy it. Should you be unable to complete this objective by the time we are ready to commence with the final phase of the plan, you are to temporarily abort that mission and resume it after the Enemy has been destroyed."_

"Understood."

"_One additional order: Terminate the humans responsible for this incident."_

"By your command." the Triple-Eight replied obediently.

The speaker on the other end hung up without another word. The conversation having ended, the Triple-Eight turned to its companion.

"We have work to do."

* * *

A/N: I know this was another short chapter. The next one will be longer.

A/N2: The "by your command" line at the end was a tongue-in-cheek reference I added at the request of Centurion005.


	9. Skulls, Pills, and Plasma Burns

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: Thanks for the feedback guys. Continue to Read and Review.

A/N2: I'm just going to go ahead and assume the Resistance has some sort of anti-radiation meds.

* * *

**Ruins of Los Angeles, 2024**

_Aren't machines supposed to make things go _faster? Private Kara Thrace thought.

How long had it been now? Three? Four hours? She had lost track of time.

"Maybe they're just not coming." she suggested quietly.

"No, they're coming." said her partner, Corporal Rebbecca Feral, or "Becka" as she liked to be called. "They always do."

"Well, I hope so," Kara said sounding irritated, "because if they don't show up soon, I may have to go over there and drag their assess out of bed."

"I don't think they sleep, Starbuck," Becka muttered, "And if they did, they'd probably want to stay in bed. Especially if they knew what was on today's agenda."

Both women laughed. Despite all she had suffered, Becka still possessed a certain sense of humor. It was one of the reasons why she and Kara had become quick friends.

"Speaking of which," Becka said checking her watch, "It's that time again." She opened a small canister and poured out a pair of large yellow pills.

Kara groaned. "I was afraid of that..."

Becka handed one to Kara who picked it up like it was a dirty sock. Kara stared at the pill with a mixture of disgust and resignation. Becka didn't look too happy either.

"I think I'd rather risk getting sick then take one of these every forty-eight hours." Kara grumbled.

"That's what a lot of people say," Becka replied grimly. "Until they're dying slowly from radiation poisoning. Anyway, Starbuck, just take it and get it over with."

"Can't we wait another hour?" Kara whined.

"Starbuck, please don't make me give you an order. Just do it." Becka said, her tone now serious.

Kara sighed. Another reason she liked Becka was because Becka rarely flaunted her rank. Yes, she was just a corporal, but she was also second-in-command of Bravo Squad. Nevertheless, she always treated her fellow comrades in her squad like equals.

So if Becka was willing to pull rank on her, she might as well suck it up and take the frakkin' pill.

"Don't worry, I'll do it." Kara said with resignation. Bracing herself for an unpleasant experience, Kara raised the pill to her lips. "Care to join me?" she asked her friend.

"Sure, why not?" said Becka.

"On three?"

"Yeah, on three."

"One..."

"Two..."

"Three!"

Both women popped the yellow pills into their mouths and swallowed. Then, as if performing some sort of ritual, they simultaneously squeezed their eyes shut, gritted their teeth together, tossed then their heads up. They allowed the horrible pills to slide down their throats, fighting back the gag reflex as they did. They stayed like that for a while, as if in shock.

Becka was the first to recover. She pulled out her water canteen and offered it to Kara who graciously took it. Kara took a swig from the canteen, doing her best to wash the foul aftertaste from her mouth. She then handed the canteen back to Becka who drank from it as well. They both gasped and panted heavily.

Kara wiped her forehead. The anti-radiation meds used by the Resistance not only tasted terrible, but they provided only forty-eight hours of protection as opposed to the seventy-two hours Colonial injections provided. Furthermore, the pills only provided protection against _some _types of radiation.

Still it was better than nothing. Sort of...

"I swear one of these days I'm gonna find the guys responsible for creating this crap and kick their assess." she muttered, the bitter taste in her mouth not completely gone.

Becka raised her eyebrows. "Starbuck, the _machines_ invented these pills. You know, to keep us alive a little longer while we were being worked to death in their labor camps?"

"Well, like I said, one of these days I'm going to kick their assess."

"You've been kicking their assess ever since you joined up."

"Nah, all I've done so far is given them a slap on the wrist." Kara snickered.

"Well, whatever it is you're doing, keep it up." Becka said encouragingly.

Kara just smiled. Becka smiled back. Kara leaned against the side of the pit they had dug themselves hours ago.

She figured she had been here for at least two weeks. It was hard to tell since she rarely saw the sun. In those two weeks she had learned quite a bit about this place.

For starters, she had learned she was still on Earth. The new Earth. Somehow, she had been taken into the future. How many years she had been sent forward she didn't know. However, she figured it was at least a couple thousand years given that what had happened here sounded _very _familiar to her.

Thirteen years ago, Earth scientists had created a highly-advanced computer program called Skynet. The program had been entrusted with nearly every military and communications installation belonging to the United States, the dominant world power at the time. Skynet began evolving at an astounding rate. It grew smart. Too smart. One day, its creators realized that Skynet had grown beyond their control. They decided to shut the program down.

As one might have expected, Skynet wasn't too happy about this. In fact, it had been downright pissed. It decided to fight back. Before anyone could stop it, Skynet launched a full scale nuclear attack on the human race. Billions of people died on that one day which was now known as "Judgment Day."

About a year after Judgment Day, Skynet unleashed an army of machines called Terminators to scour the globe for survivors. Countless humans were ruthlessly slaughtered or rounded up and placed in labor camps. Many more people died from starvation or radiation poisoning. A few resistance groups sprang up here and there. Skynet crushed most of them quickly. It seemed as if Humanity was on the verge of extinction (again).

Then one day, a man named John Connor led a mass escape from one of Skynet's labor camps. Connor and his small band of loyal followers created the resistance group known as Tech Com which waged an effective guerrilla war against Skynet. Connor raided the other labor camps, freeing thousands of prisoners and rallying them to his cause. Tech Com's numbers grew with every victory. The other resistance groups started flocking to Connor's side. Soon, Connor had every resistance group in the world united under his banner. Tech Com, now simply called the Human Resistance, engaged in an all-out war against Skynet. Although often outnumbered and outgunned, the Resistance continued to fight on determined to end Skynet's reign of terror once and for all.

"_Is this why I was sent here?"_ Kara wondered, _"To help the Resistance win this war. To save Humanity from its own idiocy - again? Is this gonna be a life long career or something?" _

Kara sighed and shook her head sadly. So much for Humanity not repeating its mistakes. When the Colonials had arrived on this world, they had agreed to leave behind their technology and start all over. But apparently, technology had come back anyway.

From what Kara had learned so far, prior to Judgment Day, human civilization on Earth had been very similar to the Twelve Colonies. The common language - English - was the same (the only noticeable difference being that 'frak' had been replaced with 'fuck'), as was the clothing, most of the technology, the ideology, the culture, and even certain popular brand names.

There were a couple of big differences, however.

First of all, the people here had not re-invented jump drive technology. In fact they had barely begun to develop rudimentary forms of space travel. Thus, when the bombs fell, the survivors had no means to escape this world. The only option was to stay here and fight for what little was left.

Another difference Kara noticed was that no one had ever heard of the Twelve Colonies or the Lords of Kobol. Instead, the dominant religions in this world seemed to focus on a single all-powerful, all-knowing God. No doubt this was a legacy the Cylons had left behind. Oddly enough, no one had heard of the name Cylon either.

"So, Thrace," Becka said, suddenly jerking Kara out of her brooding. "Are you sure you didn't use to work at-"

"For the last time, Becka." Kara interrupted, "The name 'Starbuck' has _nothing_ to do with coffee. It's just a name people used to call me in school."

This had to be the hundredth time she had had to explain this. Apparently, before Judgment Day, there had been a highly popular chain of coffee shops called "Starbucks." Consequently, everyone assumed she used to work there or was a frequent customer or something along those lines.

"So, why did people call you that?" Becka asked.

Kara paused to think. How _did_ she get that name at the academy? She vaguely recalled something about being drunk and disorderly, but not much else.

"I actually don't know." Kara said, "Like I said, it's just a name people at school called me. I have no idea why." She decided to change the subject. "What about you, Becka?" she asked, "What was it like for you before everything went to hell?"

Becka thought for a moment before replying. "I wanted to be a doctor." she said, "My mother was a nurse. My father was a paramedic. My older sister was a vet. My little brother wanted to be a brain surgeon. Basically, my family was all about healing and saving lives. It was a good thing. I wanted to be part of it."

She paused for a bit and looked down clearly emotional.

"I was in my senior year in college when the bombs fell," she continued, "I was in my dorm studying for my exams. You know, the ones I needed to get into medical school. I was quizzing myself when suddenly there was this flash of light and something that sounded like thunder. I looked out the window and saw this huge mushroom cloud in the distance. I knew what it was. I didn't want to believe it. But I couldn't deny what I was seeing."

"So what did you do?" Kara asked.

"The only thing I could do. I ran. I didn't know where I was running to. I just ran." Becka replied. "Eventually, I found a basement that the campus used to store cleaning supplies. I hid there and waited for the noise to stop." She took a deep breath and exhaled. "When I climbed out of that basement, everything - my who life - was just _gone_. I don't know how long I stood there just staring at... well... at nothing."

She shook her head. "It's funny." Becka chuckled, "Right before the explosion, I had finally managed to memorize where on the human skull the Zygomatic bone was located. I had spent hours trying to memorize that one particular fact. Now, thirteen years later, it's the _only_ thing I remember from my studies."

Kara smirked. "Really? Care to demonstrate?" she said playfully.

Becka nodded. "Okay then." she stood up and reached over the edge of the pit. When she sat back down, she had a bleached human skull in her hands. Kara's playful expression vanished and became one of pure shock.

"Ummm, Becka...?" she started to say.

Becka turned the skull towards Kara and pointed to a ridged area along the eye socket. "There." she said with triumph, "Right there. That's where the Zygomatic bone is located. That useless bit of knowledge is the only thing Skynet didn't steal from me on Judgment Day."

"Errrr... yeah." said Kara, greatly disturbed by her friend's behavior, "I'll take your word for it."

Noticing Kara's discomfort, Becka put the skull aside and placed a hand on Kara's shoulder reassuringly.

"I'm sorry I freaked you out," she said earnestly, "It's just that... well... there's just so many skulls and bones these days, that... well you just get used to it after a while."

Kara nodded. "Yeah," she said quietly. "Do you ever stop and think about how they were once alive just like we are - well, at least for the moment we are... Then one day, they just became... like that." Kara gestured at the skull.

"Actually, not all of them died in the blast." Becka said grimly, "Many died days or weeks later. From starvation, or sickness, or the HK patrols. Some just didn't want to go on." She noticed Kara's confusion and explained, "I've seen a few with bullet holes in them."

Kara nodded, in grim understanding. "Do you ever get the feeling that they're staring at us?" Kara asked, "Like they're blaming us for what's happened to them?"

"Sometimes," Becka said sadly, "And I wouldn't blame them. After all, we brought Skynet into this world."

"Yeah, we did." sighed Kara, "So, did you ever find your parents? Or your sister or brother?"

Becka shook her head. "No. I never really searched that hard for them. And if any of them are still alive, I doubt they're still searching for me."

"Isn't it scary? One of those skulls you see on the ground could have once been someone you knew. You could walk right over it and you would never know."

"Like I said, you get used to it after a while."

"That's exactly what scares me." Kara muttered. She felt a lump in her throat. "It's not that I'm afraid to die. Far from it. What I'm afraid of is that one day... one day it could be _my_ skull lying out there... just another skull amongst millions of others... just lying there... unrecognized... unnoticed... _forgotten..._."

She turned away from Becka and stared at the skull instead. She couldn't think of anything for it expect sorrow and pity.

Becka shook her head. "You won't be forgotten." she said with a quiet but firm voice, "_None_ of these people will be forgotten. One day, Skynet will be destroyed, and we'll have taken back our lives. And on that day, all those who have died in this war will be remembered as having given their lives so that the rest of us could have a second chance. Their names may be forgotten but they themselves won't be. No one will be forgotten. _ No one_."

Kara didn't know what to say. She had never thought that way. That her name could be forgotten yet she could still be remembered, not as an individual but as part of something greater.

"I just hope one of us is alive to see that day." she said at last.

"Yeah, me too." said Becka quietly.

Kara leaned forward and picked up the skull with both hands and stared at it. The skull stared back at her. For the first time, it didn't seem to stare at her with accusation.

"Whoever you once were, you won't be forgotten." she softly whispered to it.

Kara stood up and gently placed the skull on the edge of the pit. She then sat down again and leaned against Becka.

"They won't be forgotten... No one will be forgotten." she whispered to herself.

Becka put an arm around her friend and held her tightly. Kara smiled and returned the favor. Even in the darkest of times, friendship still counted for something.

* * *

Suddenly the ground began to tremble. The rumbling of engines could be heard. Kara and Becka broke apart and peered over the edge of their pit. Something big was moving in the distance.

Kara brought her plasma rifle to bear and peered through the scope. She zoomed in on the object and quickly identified it: A Skynet Hunter Killer Tank.

Exactly what she had been waiting for.

"'Bout time they showed up." Kara said.

"How many?" asked Becka.

"One Tank. Less than a quarter mile away. Looks like it's just on a routine patrol."

"Then we'll have to get its attention. You know what to do."

"Right," Kara said. She lifted her rifle to her shoulder and fired a short burst of plasma at the Tank. As expected, the shots merely bounced off the Tank's reinforced armor. However, it had the desired effect. The Tank's sensors registered the attack and the machine halted. It turned ninety degrees and began scanning the area for its enemy.

Kara ducked back down into the pit.

"That was easy." she grinned.

"This part is always easy." Becka said, "Both of us together. Ready, set, go!"

Both women stood up and opened fire on the Tank. Again, the machine was unharmed. Its sensors registered the direction of the attack and it fed this information to the primary computer. After analyzing the data, the computer issued a series of commands to the rest of the body. The Tank's plasma cannons powered up and swiveled in Kara and Becka's direction.

"Now comes the not-so-easy part." quipped Becka.

She and Kara took cover as the Tank began spraying the area with plasma fire. The air burned all around them. The Tank hadn't locked onto their exact location yet, so it was blasting away in their general direction, hoping to flush something out.

The two female soldiers remained hidden beneath the surface and did nothing until the Tank had ceased fire. As soon as it did, Becka stood up again and returned fire. This time the Tank got a clear lock on its target and began rolling forward, blazing away with its cannons as it did.

Becka ducked back down. "I think it's tracking me." she said, "Now comes the really hard part." She took out a satchel and placed it in the middle of the pit.

"Alright," said Kara, "I'll go that way-" she pointed to the left away from the Tank "-and you go that way." she pointed towards the right. "We'll meet up behind that wall in the center."

"Okay, let's do this then." Becka agreed. "On three."

Kara nodded. "On three."

"One."

"Two."

"Three!"

The two women sprang out of their hiding spot and ran as fast as they could in opposite directions away from the Tank. The Tank made some quick adjustments to its targeting sensors. It then aimed one cannon at Kara and the other at Becka. It fired both simultaneously.

Kara weaved and zigzagged amidst a hail of plasma fire. She didn't look back. She just kept running, adrenaline and blood coursing through her body. Suddenly she felt a burning sensation on her right shoulder. Frak! She was hit! Her shoulder stung like hell but she didn't have time to inspect the wound. If she didn't keep on going, she'd end up with a lot worse.

When she reached the wall, she dived over it and rolled herself on the ground. Not even bothering to catch her breath, she got to her feet and started hurrying towards her destination. To her relief, she saw that Becka had made it across as well.

"Are you alright?" Kara asked when she linked up with Becka.

"I'm fine. You?"

"I think I got nicked, but it's nothing major."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, it doesn't hurt too much."

That was a lie. It actually hurt_ a lot_, but that would have to be dealt with later. Kara peered over the wall and saw that the Tank was positioned directly on top of the pit they had been hiding in. It had ceased fire and was now scanning the area for its missing prey.

"It's in position!" Kara shouted.

"Do it!" cried Becka.

Kara pulled out a remote detonator from her utility belt, flipped the casing open, and hit the switch.

The Tank, which was still searching for its elusive prey, suddenly detected a wireless radio transmission originating from somewhere in front of it. It started making the calculations necessary to triangulate the exact location of the transmitter when it noticed something odd. The transmission was being directed towards it. The Tank's computer did some additional calculations and discovered that the signal was specifically being sent to something _underneath_ it. A quick series of computations produced only one possible explanation. Recognizing the imminent danger, the computer ordered an emergency withdrawal.

That was the last order it ever gave.

Kara and Becka took cover as a tremendous explosion rocked the battlefield. They stayed down until everything was quiet again. A thick cloud of dust still covered the area, forcing them to shield their eyes and mouths with their hands. Eventually, the dust settled down enough for them to see clearly. The Tank was now nothing more than a smoldering hulk of twisted burning metal, courtesy of a Resistance-patented HK Buster Bomb hidden in the satchel Becka had left behind in the pit.

"WOO-HOO!" the two women cheered.

They high-fived each other and threw their fists up in the air victoriously. Then Becka made the mistake of slapping Kara on the wrong shoulder.

"OW! Hey, Becka,_ watch it will ya_?"

"Sorry, sorry about that." said Becka hastily. She then reached for Kara's wounded shoulder. "We'd better take a look at that."

Kara reflexively batted her hand away. "It's fine." she insisted.

Becka wasn't fooled for a moment.

"It is certainly _not_ fine," she retorted, "Now _let me see it_."

Kara reluctantly allowed Becka to inspect her injury. Becka grimaced at what she saw.

"Jesus... That looks like a nasty second degree plasma burn, Starbuck. I'll do what I can, but we need to get you to a life station."

Becka took her backpack off and pulled out a first aid kit. The contents included a small antiseptic spray canister and roll of sterile gauze. Despite the searing agony, Kara managed to hold still long enough for Becka to first spray her wound and then wrap it with a strip of gauze.

"Right, there ya' go, Starbuck." Becka said after she had finished, "That's the best I can do for now. We'd better get back to the Bunker. If that isn't properly treated soon, you could end up with an infection or even go into shock. Count yourself lucky that-"

Kara held up her hand. "Wait, did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"That sound. Listen..."

The two of them stood there in silence, not daring to make a sound. Then they heard it. The dreaded mechanical buzzing and whining sound.

"Oh shit!" cursed Becka.

"Let's get the hell out of here!" shouted Kara.

"Right! Follow me!" Becka threw her backpack over her shoulder and the two women began running as fast as they could.

They had gone no more than a hundred feet when a pair of Aerial Hunter Killers came screaming down upon them like giant predatory birds. Kara and Becka flung themselves to the ground on instinct. They then gathered themselves up quickly and started running again. The HKs relentlessly pursued, strafing the ground with plasma fire.

Kara turned and started firing back at her pursuers. It was a brave but ultimately futile gesture. The Aerial HKs may have been less heavily armored than the Tanks, but they were still tough enough to withstand plasma rifle fire.

"Forget it, Starbuck!" screamed Becka. She grabbed Kara by the arm and forced her to abandon her feeble counterattack. The two found temporary refuge in an old toll booth.

The HKs circled above like hungry vultures.

"Damn it!" cursed Becka, "We're trapped!"

She turned to Kara and said, "Okay, listen Starbuck, you stay here. I'll go outside and start shooting. I think I can get them both to chase me. When I give the signal, you run as fast as you can and get back to the Bunker. I'll make it there on my own."

"No frakkin' way, Becka!" snapped Kara, "I'm not gonna let you get yourself killed like that! If anyone should be out there distracting those machines, it should be _me_."

"You are not going on a suicide run, Starbuck!"

"Isn't that what _you're_ about to do?"

"I'm not injured! You _are_! You won't make it!"

"I've gotten through worse!"

"Look, you said you didn't want your skull lying out there! So stay here and wait for my signal!"

"Like hell I am!"

"That's an order, private!"

"Well pardon me, corporal," sneered Kara, "But I feel rather disinclined to obey that order!"

"Oh for the love of God, Starbuck, will you just-"

CRASH!

Kara and Becka stared out the window just in time to see an HK, one of its turbines on fire, take a nose dive into the ground. The war machine went up in a massive fire ball forcing Kara and Becka to shield their eyes.

"What the hell?" gasped Kara.

"I'll be damned..." muttered Becka in disbelief, "Who do you suppose did that?"

Before Kara could answer, the door to the toll booth swung open and a light illuminated the room. Kara and Becka instantly trained their weapons at the doorway.

"_Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!_" shouted a voice, "_Take it easy!_"

Kara and Becka slowly lowered their weapons, as a male Resistance fighter cautiously stepped inside.

"Doesn't anyone ever knock these days?" Kara asked dryly.

"You two okay?" the man asked.

"Yes," both women replied.

"Good."

"Did you do that?" Becka asked, pointing out the window at the burning pile of metal that had once been an Aerial HK.

"Actually no," the man replied, "That was my little brother."

"Your brother?"

"Hey, Derek!" A second, younger man popped up behind the first. "That was some setup, wasn't it?"

"It sure was, Kyle. Nice shot." the first replied, patting the younger man on the back.

"Well, you were a great decoy. Couldn't have done it without you."

The second man then noticed Kara and Becka. "Who are they?" he asked.

"A couple of people whose asses we just saved." said the older man.

The second man stepped forward out and held out his hand. "Private Kyle Reese." he said politely.

Becka shook his hand. "Corporal Rebbecca Feral."

Kara also shook Kyle's hand. "Private Kara Thrace."

"Nice to meet you ladies," said Kyle. He placed a hand on the older man's shoulder. "This is my big brother, Derek."

Becka nodded. "Nice to meet you too," she said to Derek.

Kara took a closer look at Kyle's facial features.

_Hmmm... Not bad... He's kind of cute._ she thought.

"Hey, Starbuck, check it out." Becka pointed at the shoulder insignias on Derek and Kyle's uniforms. "You boys are with Tech Com?"

Kyle smiled. "Yeah, you got that right."

"Oh my God. You've met Connor himself."

"_Met him_?" Kyle chuckled. "Connor and I shared the same cell at Century for two years."

Derek cleared his throat. "I hate to interrupt this little chat, but who else is out here with you?"

"Just us two," said Kara. "Us and a pair of flying toasters."

"Great shooting by the way," Becka commented. "Good thing you packed a missile launcher today."

"Actually, Feral, all I used were a few of these." Kyle held up a huge cartridge, grinning as he did. "Raufoss Mk 211 armor-piercing, incendiary round. It takes just one of these babies to ignite the fuel tanks on a flying metal."

Kara glanced out the window at the burning wreckage. She then looked down at her own plasma rifle, which suddenly looked rather puny compared to the bullet Kyle held in his hand.

"_Damn. I've got to get me one of those..."_ she thought.

"Listen, you two." said Derek, "You'd better get out of here. We may have taken out one HK, but its friend got away. It'll be back pretty soon with three or four of its buddies."

"We were heading back to base anyway." said Becka, "Thrace got a plasma burn when we blew a Tank up. She needs medical attention."

"You blew up a Tank?" asked Derek.

Kara and Becka nodded.

"When was this?"

"Five maybe ten minutes ago." answered Becka "That's why those HKs were after us."

Kyle and Derek gave at each other a look that clearly read "uh oh."

"Where are you two from?" asked Kyle, looking worried.

"Bunker Five." Becka replied.

"Transportation?"

"Just our feet."

"You'll be walking in the open for hours."

"We don't have much choice." Kara pointed out.

"Actually," Kyle said, "We've got a transport parked just ten minutes away from here. We could give you two a lift back to Bunker Five."

"Wait a minute, Kyle," Derek whispered cutting in, "We need to get back to our own unit. We can't afford to-"

"We need to get these two out of here, Derek." Kyle whispered back urgently. "The machines have just lost _two_ HKs in this sector in less than an hour. You know they're gonna be pissed."

"All the more reason we need to get _ourselves_ out of here." Derek argued, "Bunker Five is in the _opposite_ direction of where we want to go. And it's still under siege. The metals will specifically be on the lookout for troop transports heading that way."

"These are our people, Derek! They need help and we have the means to help them."

"Fine. We'll take them back to our unit and let the commander sort it out."

Kyle shook his head. "That'll take too long. One of them needs medical attention. Our own medic was killed today, remember?"

"Hey, look I'm fine-" Kara started to say.

"Oh really, Starbuck?" Becka lightly punched Kara on her injured shoulder. Kyle and Derek both winced as Kara jumped back yelping in pain.

"Okay, okay!" grunted Kara, "I see your point!"

Satisfied she had gotten Kara's cooperation, Becka turned to the Reese brothers.

"So are you gonna give us a lift, or what?" she asked. Everyone turned to look at Derek.

"Alright... we'll take you to the Bunker." Derek relented. Kyle nodded with approval before turning to Kara and Becka.

"Follow me ladies." He headed out the door. Kara and Becka followed, while Derek brought up the rear.

* * *

"Tell me something, Becka." Kara asked as they walked outside together, "Were you really willing to take on those two HKs just to save me."

Becka looked indignant. "Of course." she said, "I'd be willing to put my life on the line for _any_ fellow soldier. Besides, that's what _you_ wanted to do."

"Well technically, it was _your_ idea." Kara retorted, "A crazy one, I might add. Which is strange, because usually_ I'm_ the one who comes up with the crazy ideas _and _actually carries them out."

"Like you said," Becka stated pointedly, "one of us should be alive to see the day when Skynet is defeated. One of us should be allowed to win back the life we lost."

"Yeah, I know. And if only one of us can live to see that day, it ought to be _you_."

"Thanks. But why me?"

"You have something to look forward to. I, on the other hand..." Kara trailed off.

"What? What is it, Starbuck?" Becka inquired.

Kara just shook her head and shrugged. "Well, the truth is that I don't _have _anything to win back from Skynet. Skynet never stole _anything_ from me in the first place."

Becka stared at her in confusion.

"I lost everything I cared about long before the bombs fell." Kara said truthfully, "And it was mostly my fault that I lost it."

"Ever thought about just starting a new life in that case?" Becka suggested.

"This _is _my life, Becka!" Kara suddenly exclaimed, gesturing at her surroundings, "It's _always_ been my life. To me this war is no different than growing up in a bad neighborhood."

"I doubt they fought with plasma rifles back then."

"No, it was mostly bricks, knives, and bullets. But it's still the same overall picture. All this fighting. All this hiding. All this running. All this... this _surviving_. It's all the same."

Kara stopped in her tracks and sighed. She stared at the ground briefly gazing at the countless human skulls that lay strewn across the wasteland. Finally, she lifted her head and looked Becka in the eyes.

"But for what it's worth," Kara said graciously, "I am grateful that you think I'm worth saving."

"Worth saving?" Becka asked.

"It's something an old friend once said." Kara explained, "It's not enough just to survive. One has to be worthy of survival."

"That makes sense, I suppose..." Becka mused, "And on those lines, I do believe you're worthy of survival. We're _both_ worthy of survival."

"Hey, Becka, let's make a deal." Kara said with a sudden air of inspiration, "We agree to_ both_ survive long enough to see the end of this war. Deal?"

Becka thought about it for a moment. "Okay, Starbuck," she said, "Deal."

Kara grinned. "Deal." she repeated.

The two women shook hands.

Becka made a motion to slap Kara on the shoulder, but Kara held up her arms in defense.

"Hey! Hey!" she shouted, "The shoulder, _remember_?"

"Oh sorry, almost forgot." Becka replied sheepishly.

"Alright. We're here!" Kyle suddenly called out.

The two women turned and saw Kyle standing beside a pickup truck with a heavy caliber machine gun mounted in the back. Derek hurried up from behind Kara and Becka, got into the driver's seat, and revved up the engine.

"Hold on to something, ladies." Kyle advised, as he got into the passenger's seat. "This might get a little rough."

"It'll sure as hell beat walking though." Kara said as she and Becka climbed into the back of the truck.

The drive to the Bunker was indeed a bit rough, but it was still better than walking. They only had to dodge three Aerial HKs on the way.

* * *

**Connor Safe house  
May 10th, 2009**

Kara woke up to find herself lying on an old couch with a blanket on top of her. Someone had been nice enough to move her here while she was sleeping. She sat up and took in her surroundings. The room she was in looked pretty cozy. This was obviously the safehouse.

She rubbed her eyes and then carefully inspected her right shoulder. It was still scarred from the plasma blast. And even three years later it still hurt sometimes.

Or maybe the pain was just in her head.

Like that thing on her forearm...

She shook her head. She didn't want to think about _that_ either.

"Hey, you're up." a familiar voice said.

Kara turned her head and saw Derek Reese enter the room.

"Morning Reese," she said cheerfully (as cheerful as Starbuck could ever be).

"It's a little after noon, actually." Derek said.

"_Noon?_" Kara exclaimed.

"Yeah, we let you sleep in a bit."

"I'll say you did."

"Any more messed up dreams?"

"I slept fine," Kara stated, "Actually, I was just remembering the very first time we met."

"Yeah, I remember that." Derek nodded, "You and your friend Becka were trapped by those HKs, right?"

"Yeah, and you and your brother killed one of the HKs . And then you gave us a lift back to base." Kara grinned weakly. "You know, I don't think I ever thanked you for that. I think all I ever said to you was 'doesn't anyone ever knock these days?'"

"You don't have to thank me, Starbuck." Derek replied, "It was Kyle who shot down that HK."

"You still gave us a lift."

"That was Kyle's idea too. If you recall, I actually thought it was a bad idea."

"So, why did you go along with Kyle?"

Derek sighed. "I couldn't to say 'no' to him, I guess." He paused. "You know what happened to Kyle, don't you?"

Kara nodded. "I was there at Topanga Canyon when they sent him back." She sighed. "Look, Reese, I'm-I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth after-"

Derek held up his hand. "Don't bother, Starbuck. Connor ordered you to stay quiet. I understand."

"I just want to let you know that I miss him as much as you do. In some ways, he was like my own little brother."

"He died for John Connor," Derek said, "Like he was supposed to." He momentarily looked down at his feet, trying to figure out what to say next. "There's something else you should know about Kyle," he began, "You know how he was sent back to protect Sarah before John was born? But it was more than that. Kyle-"

Kara cut him off. "Kyle was John's father, wasn't he?" she said.

The look on Derek's face was all the confirmation she needed. "What tipped you off?" he asked.

"He reminds me of your brother." Kara said, with a look of both admiration and sadness, "Not just physically. It's the way he acts. John helped me when I was in trouble last night. He did so despite his mother's objections. Just like Kyle helped me."

Derek nodded solemnly. "The kid values life." he said. "All life."

"Yeah. He does," said Kara, "He's a lot more like Kyle than his future self." She got off the couch. "Where's everyone else, by the way?" she asked.

"Sarah's exercising in the basement. John and the machine are looking over that weapon you found. I was just about to go do some target practice outside. Care to join me?"

Kara shook her head. "No thanks, Reese. I... I just need some time alone for now."

Derek nodded. "Alright, Starbuck." he said. "See you around." He then walked out the door.

Now alone again, Kara stood there for a few minutes trying to decide what to do next.

"_Maybe getting into another fight with Sarah will help."_ she thought.

* * *

Inside the fallout shelter, Sarah Connor was busy hitting a brown rice bag on a chain that hung from the ceiling. She hadn't brought a real punching bag with her, so this would have to do for now. Life had always taught her to keep in shape for a fight. Not that punching would do much against a Terminator, but one should still have all weapons available to them. Besides, her hand-to-hand combat skills had gotten her out of several sticky situations in the past.

She also needed something to keep her mind off of what "Kyle" or her subconscious had told her last night. There had been something... different about "Kyle" this time. All this cryptic talk about "events in motion" baffled her.

Where had her subconscious come up with of _that_?

Sarah continued punching the bag with her boxing gloves. She punched harder and harder each time, not noticing the fabric was starting to tear. Then she punched a little too hard. The bag split open and millions of rice grains spilled out onto the floor.

Sarah groaned and kicked the wall in frustration. Yet _another_ mess she had to clean up. And worse, she had no one to blame but herself this time.

"Well, this looks familiar..." someone said.

Sarah turned around saw Kara descending the stairs leading to the shelter.

"You're up at last." Sarah stated curtly.

"Yeah," Kara replied. She gazed at the mess on the floor. "You know, I'd offer to help you clean up, but I'd probably just make things worse."

Sarah didn't answer. Instead she took notice of what Kara was wearing. She had changed into a black sports bra and navy blue jogging pants. Sarah frowned. They seemed familiar, just like...

"Starbuck... are you wearing _my _clothes?"

"I don't have my own." Kara said defensively.

Sarah shook her head, not knowing whether to laugh or yell at her. "If you're gonna stay with us, you'll need to get your own clothes." she said.

"Wait, I'm _staying_ with you?"

"Why, you don't want to?"

"Actually I do. I just thought that after last night, I'd have to fight tooth and nail to just share the same planet with you."

Sarah sighed. "Listen, Starbuck," she said, "I did some thinking about what I said last night and-"

"_And what?"_ thought Kara, bracing herself, _"Came up with some more insults to throw at me?"_

"-and I just want to tell you that I may have been... out of line."

"What?" Kara asked. Did she hear that correctly?

Sarah walked up to Kara. "I was out of line." she said softly, "You made the right call, asking for John's help. Yes, he could have been killed, but then again, a lot of things we do around here could get him killed."

Kara nodded. "He's a tough kid, Sarah." she assured, "He has you to thank for that."

"I'm not quite sure. Maybe I have taught him well. Or maybe he's taught _himself _all that. Either way-" Sarah took a deep breath before speaking again, "-I've underestimated him... Just like I underestimated you."

"Me?" Kara asked. This was starting to freak her out for some reason...

"Alright, Starbuck," Sarah sighed, "I'll be honest. I still think what you did yesterday was pretty reckless and half-assed..."

"_But_..." Kara prompted her to continue.

"But I can't deny the fact that it _worked_." Sarah quietly said, shrugging her shoulders. "Actually," she continued, her voice returning to its normal tone, "it worked out pretty well. Seven Triple-Eights destroyed. No one killed or even hurt. We even found something that might help us stop Skynet."

She gave Kara a weak smile. "I can't really think of anything else that we could have hoped for."

"Okay... just stop for a moment." Kara said holding up her hands. She was getting overwhelmed. "Let's assume you're not jerking my chain. Are you _apologizing_ to me?"

"What?" Sarah scoffed with exaggerated indignation. "You didn't think I could do that?"

"Ah-hah! So you _are_ apologizing to me."

Sarah nodded. "Yeah..." she said calmly, "I guess I am apologizing."

Kara blinked. _"Wow."_ she thought._ "I think she really means it."_

"Okay, this just wrecked my whole day." Kara muttered with an air of annoyance.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I came down here figuring you'd still be pissed at me." Kara explained honestly, "I was actually hoping for a good yelling match to get me going. You know, get the nerves fired up, the adrenaline running and the heart pumping. Now, I don't know how I'm gonna get that daily kick."

"Maybe you should try coffee." Sarah suggested.

"Please _do not_ go there." Kara warned putting a hand up in front of her.

"Well, then... I guess I could get another bag of rice." Sarah said.

"Actually..." Kara suddenly had an idea, "Why a bag of rice? Why not something that can _hit_ _back_?" She winked at Sarah.

"Sorry," Sarah shook her head, "I don't think so." However, that wasn't exactly true. Kara could tell that she was in fact thinking about it.

"Oh." she taunted, "Afraid that John might see his mom getting her ass kicked?"

Sarah smirked. "No." she said playfully, "It's just that I promised John at breakfast this morning that I wouldn't break more than three of your bones."

"Well, you won't have anything to worry about." Kara teased, "I mean you don't have to worry about hurting _me_. You on the other hand..."

"Wouldn't dare break a nice little blond girl's fingernails."

"So, I guess I can keep borrowing your clothes in that case?"

There was a pause. Sarah and Kara just stared at each other. Finally, Sarah spoke up, a nasty grin on her face.

"Okay, Starbuck, I'll give you what you want." she said coolly, "In fact, I'd say you're gonna get more than you bargained for." She grabbed a pair of boxing gloves off a nearby shelf and tossed them to Kara.

Kara caught the gloves and strapped them on. She then put her hands up on guard and assumed a classic fighting stance. "Let's get this party started, shall we?" she said with a look of glee on her face.

Sarah mirrored her stance. "You are way, _way_ past your bedtime, little girl." she whispered smugly.

Kara winked one eye. "Yeah, well, like they always say: Age before beauty."

Sarah lunged forward and struck.

* * *

Cameron analyzed yet another piece of the weapon.

"Seventy-three percent carbon steel, twenty-percent titanium, and seven percent lead." she reported, "I'm also detecting traces of aluminum, silicon, and nickel."

"Anything else I should be aware of?" John asked dully. He was getting tired of this.

"No." Cameron said.

John sighed. They had been dissecting this thing for hours and had so far all they had discovered was that it had been constructed sometime in the last two years. He had poured through countless different websites on all sorts of new weapons that were about to be deployed onto the field, or were currently in development, or were still at the prototype stage, or hadn't even left the drawing board. He had found nothing that was even remotely like what they had in their possession.

"I need to take a break." he said shaking his head.

"I'll take a break too." said Cameron.

John stared at her. "Why?" he asked confused.

"You're taking one." Cameron said promptly.

"Yeah, that's because I _need_ one. You... well you-"

"Don't sleep."

"Exactly."

Cameron twitched her head. "You're right. I don't sleep." she said, "But our work will only proceed if _both _of us are working in tangent with one another."

"Okay..." said John, "So, can't you do something else instead while I'm on break?"

"I _am _doing something else." Cameron pointed out, "I'm protecting you."

"You're _always_ protecting me."

"Yes. Colonel Thrace would probably say that my primary mission has 'lifelong job security.'"

John shrugged and replied, "Yeah, I'll bet she would." He decided to bring up another subject. "Why is it you always refer to Starbuck as 'Colonel Thrace'?" he asked.

"Because that's who she is." stated Cameron pointedly, "She's Colonel Kara Thrace."

"I know that." said John, "But she likes being called 'Starbuck.'"

"That's not her real name."

"Well it _might as well_ be her real name, because everyone calls her that."

"Most people call you 'John Baum' but that's not your real name."

"That's different. People only call me that because they don't _know_ my real name. We all know Starbuck's real name is Kara Thrace, but as far as we're concerned, her name is Starbuck."

"But she was sworn into the Resistance under the name Kara Thrace."

"That's not the point!" a frustrated John argued, "Everyone calls her 'Starbuck.' So far all intent and purposes, that's her name."

"So one's true name is determined by what the majority of those around him or her say it is?"

"Yeah, I guess you could say that."

"So therefore, my true name should not be 'Cameron.' Instead it should be 'that metal bitch.'"

"What...?" said John, shocked at what Cameron had just said.

"'Metal bitch.' That's what your people in the future usually refer to me as." Cameron explained calmly.

John dropped his jaw. "They - they do?" he stammered.

"Yes. The name is almost always used when people think I'm not listening. Other common variations of the name include 'Terminator slut,' 'Connor's metal whore,' and 'robo-cunt.'"

John didn't know what to say. He just sat there aghast at this revelation. Were there really that many Jesses in his army? Was Cameron really hated that much by everyone?

"Cameron... I-I'm... I'm so sorry... I-I didn't know..." he managed to say.

"There's nothing to be sorry about." Cameron said calmly.

"Yes, there is." John said angrily, "No one should be allowed to call you those names. You deserve better than that!" He gritted his teeth and curled his fists tightly. He didn't say anything for awhile. Instead he just trembled with fury and outrage. How could his Future Self let anyone get away with such... such slander? Yes, it was to be expected that people would treat Cameron with suspicion and distrust. But this...

This was just plain bigotry.

He shook his head.

No... not bigotry. It was something worse than that. Something even more poisonous. But what was it?

The answer suddenly hit him harder than a shotgun blast to the face.

It was _jealousy_.

People couldn't stand the fact that a machine, a Terminator, could have something they did not. Something special. Something they all wanted for themselves but could never have: John Connor's trust.

"Does anyone _not _call you those names?" he asked after he had finally calmed down enough to speak again.

"As far as I know, there are only two people in the Resistance who have never referred to me by any of those names." Cameron stated. "You and Colonel Thrace."

"Is that it? Just Starbuck and I?"

"Yes. You've noticed by now what Thrace typically calls me."

"Yeah..." mused John, "Starbuck is always calling you 'Cam.'"

"She's has referred to me by that name in approximately ninety-seven percent of our conversations. Should she not be allowed to call me that?"

"No, no. There's nothing wrong with that. In fact, it's a sign of affection. She _likes_ you."

Cameron tilted her head. "She likes me?"

"Just before the fight at Roachville, I talked to Starbuck... about you. She said that while she doesn't consider you her friend, she still likes you."

"That's strange. Colonel Thrace and I often disagree-"

"Yeah, I know all that." interrupted John, "What I'm trying to say is that she _respects_ you and treats you like an _equal_. She doesn't care that you're a machine. She told me herself that all she cares about is that you're on our side."

"That's a very... _logical_ statement." Cameron said slowly. "Are you sure Colonel Thrace said that to you?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"That's also strange. It's not often that Colonel Thrace makes a statement that has _any_ logic to it."

John couldn't help but grin. He then decided to talk about something else. "What about me?" he asked, "What do I call you."

"You almost always refer to me as Cameron." the cyborg girl stated.

"Almost always?"

"There have been several occasions in which you have referred to me as 'Allison.' On all such occasions you have immediately admitted to being in error."

"In error? About what?"

"About my name."

John was silent. Allison... He had heard that name before. It was what Cameron had called herself that time she had lost her memory. Where did that name come from? Why would his Future Self accidentally call Cameron "Allison" sometimes?

"What does that name mean?" he asked, "Who... Who is Allison? Or who _was _she?"

"Apparently, she was the human I was made to impersonate."

"What was she like? Did Future Me _know_ her?"

"Unknown. All I know is that I was created to replace her. All other information pertaining to Allison is missing from my database."

"Missing..." John trailed off. Suddenly his eyes widened. "Missing... _Missing_! _That's it_!" he shouted excitedly, "That's what we need to do!"

"Do what?" Cameron asked.

"The weapon!" John exclaimed breathlessly, "We've been going about this the wrong way. Cameron, you said this gun was missing several components to it, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, we need to know what those components were." John explained, "If we know what this gun is missing, we could find out more about who built it and why."

"How will we find out what the missing components are?" asked Cameron.

"You said there were areas on the weapon where something should have been attached." John said, "Show me one."

Cameron picked up the stubby grip of the weapon and showed it to him. "This large gap here in the underside." she pointed.

"What do you suppose goes there?" John asked.

"I don't know."

"Could you come up with a few possibilities."

"I could try." Cameron began scanning the groove in the piece. Finally she gave a report. "I've come up with one likely possibility: A magazine - specifically one used to hold APECM Rounds."

"Never heard of that."

"You shouldn't have. It means 'Armor Piercing Electronic Countermeasures Round' - an experimental type of armor-piercing bullet that was developed in 1989 for military and law enforcement uses. It was designed with the purpose of disabling enemy electronic communications while simultaneously inflicting physical damage to the target. The APECM Round would first penetrate its target like an ordinary armor-piercing round. A small electronic jamming device inside the bullet would then activate and disrupt all electronic activity within a small radius."

"I see..." said John, "So if you were to shoot someone with one of these things, they wouldn't be able to use a cellphone because they'd have a jamming device stuck inside them?"

"Exactly."

"But what's the point of that? They wouldn't be able to use their cellphone _anyway _because they'd be _dead_."

"The APECM Round was not just intended to be an anti-personnel round. It was also designed to disable vehicles or to create electronic dead zones in enemy entrenchments."

"So what happened to the project?"

"A few working prototypes were developed, but the APECM Round was never deployed. Testing showed that the jamming device would frequently be destroyed on impact. The APECM was also unable to distinguish between friendly and hostile electronic hardware. This was especially problematic since the jamming device sometimes activated before the round was fired."

John thought about all this for a moment. "So, our mystery weapon here is supposed to fire these APECM things?"

"It is a likely possibility." Cameron stated, "The attachment site on the weapon matches the shape of the magazine used to store APECM rounds."

"The magazine?"

"The APECM Round was different than any other bullet made before it. Thus, a special magazine was needed to hold these rounds. A few working models of these magazines were known to have made it into the hands of private collectors, although the rounds themselves were never issued with them."

John leaned forward in his chair. "Alright," he said, "Break's over. Let's get back to work." He started typing on his laptop with determination.

Twenty minutes later, John finally had something.

"Okay, I've come up with a list three people who in the last two years have purchased an APECM magazine from various online auctions and such." he said, now with a bit of satisfaction in his voice. "The first is Josh Moore. He works for a gun museum in Texas."

"Go to the museum's website and check their catalog." Cameron said.

"Already there." said John as he typed, "Let's see... According to this they still have the magazine in their inventory. So, this probably isn't the guy we're after."

"Who's the next buyer?"

"A Mister Peter Simpson... eh... looks like he still has it. He's trying to sell it on EBay now for a higher price than the one he got it for... Wow, that's kind of lame."

"And the last person?"

"Ronald Stukov. It doesn't say why he wanted one."

"Check to see who he works for."

"I'm on it." said John. He began typing into the computer. "Alright." he said a few minutes later, "He's unemployed right now... go figure with this economy... but let me check who he's worked for in the past two years..." He clicked on a link and produced a list. "Let's see... uh huh... okay... wow, he must have been desperate or something... uh huh... hmmm... _oh, son of a bitch!_"

"What is it?" asked Cameron.

"His last job was an independent contractor for Western Iron & Metal."

"The same company your mother was investigating?"

"Yeah. The same one she was investigating when she was kidnapped and tortured by that bastard who shot her in the leg."

"The man who was working for Kaliba?"

"Yeah...Kaliba..." John muttered darkly, "The same guys who blew up that warehouse and killed their own people. The same guys who built that... that drone thing we saw-"

"The HK prototype." Cameron interjected.

"Yeah, that..."

Cameron began to processing this information and produced a logical response. "We should track down this Ronald Stukov and question him."

"I think we've got our guy." John agreed.

"_One _of our guys." Cameron corrected, "Multiple people were no doubt behind the construction of this weapon."

"Well, you'd better go tell Mom. I think she's in the basement exercising."

"That's a good idea. Sarah would probably like to be informed about this."

Cameron walked out of John's room. John, now alone, thought deeply about all this. The Triple-Eight strike force was supposed to have been armed with this weapon, which had now been linked to Kaliba. The driver tasked with delivering the weapon - or part of it anyway - had also been a Triple-Eight. This could only mean that Kaliba had been infiltrated by Skynet's agents who were no doubt manipulating the company into aiding Skynet.

He thought some more.

He had assumed that the Triple-Eights had been sent to kill him. But now he was starting to question that assumption. What if he _hadn't_ been the real target? What if Skynet didn't even know he and his mother were here?

But if that was so, then who or what had been the strike force's actual target? Why would they need electronic countermeasures to do the job? Why would they construct a weapon based on a failed project that had ended twenty years ago? What was it about the intended target that, as Starbuck had put it, made Skynet so frightened?

Just then Cameron returned.

"What did Mom say?" John asked.

"I was unable to speak with her. She was busy." Cameron stated.

"Busy doing what? Exercising?"

"You could say that. She was busy fighting with Colonel Thrace."

John sighed in frustration. "I was afraid of that. What were they fighting about this time?"

"I'm not sure."

"Did you hear anything they said?"

"They weren't saying anything."

"But I thought you said-"

"They were fighting."

John's eyes widened in horror as realization began to creep upon him.

"Cameron... when you said 'fighting' did you mean _physically _fighting?_? With their fists?_"

"Yes. With their fists."

John jumped out of his chair and stared at her. "And you just _stood there and did nothing_?" he exclaimed.

"I tried to tell them what we found out. But they didn't seem to be paying attention to me." she pointed out rather defensively.

John's only response was to bolt out of the room. "Come on!" he yelled.

"What are we doing?" Cameron asked.

"We need to stop this before she kills her!"

Cameron looked confused. "Do you mean before your mother kills Colonel Thrace, or before Colonel Thrace kills your mother?"

"I don't know! Maybe _both_!"

* * *

A/N: Please leave a nice review.


	10. One Hell of a Fighter

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: Thanks for the reviews guys! Keep up the feedback.

A/N2: If you want TSCC to get a third season, I suggest you start writing to the WB. Make it clear to them that this show has loyal fans and that it MUST continue.

acer-sigma: You're definitely on to something regarding the mystery weapon. I already know exactly what is. So, I'll give you a little hint:

_The weapon is especially useful when it comes to getting rid of the garbage._

(That's all I'm going to say for now.)

Anyway, here's Chapter 10. Enjoy!

* * *

**Resistance Bunker Five, 2024**

"Thrace, I'm only going to tell you this once more time. _Hold still!_" growled Doctor Thornton, the head of Bunker Five's infirmary.

At that moment, Kara was lying on a medical table, getting her plasma burn treated. She was not enjoying it. Not one bit. They had already given her several injections of antibiotics. Additionally, she now had a tube stuck in her veins that was pumping in new fluid to replace any she had lost due to her injury. The gauze had been removed, and now Kara was undergoing a bit of surgical debridement to get rid of any dead or possibly infected flesh. She had refused to accept skin grafts, but Thornton had insisted on at least cleaning the wounded area.

"Couldn't you give me something for the pain?" protested Kara.

"We _did_, Thrace." said an irritated Thornton.

"Well it's not working very well." Kara shot back, "Isn't there something else you could do?"

"Yeah, I could kiss it better. Would you like that?" Thornton asked sarcastically, "Now just keep quiet and this will all be over soon." Grumbling to himself about "whiners," Thornton went back to work.

Kara groaned inside her head. This guy was a bigger grouch than Doc Cottle. Okay, maybe he wasn't _that_ bad, but he was pretty close.

The sedative she had received prior to the surgery was doing a reasonable job. Nevertheless, she kept feeling sudden and highly unpleasant jolts of pain in her shoulder. It wasn't so much the pain that she hated, as it was the random and unexpected times she felt it.

Kara winced as she felt another spark of pain in her shoulder. She did her best not fidget. If anything was worse than the random pain spikes, it was having to listen to Thornton's reprimands.

"There she is! Hey, Starbuck!"

Kara sat up, causing Thornton to curse loudly, and saw much to her delight Davy Griffin and Becka Feral standing at the doorway. Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad after all.

Thornton wasn't so happy. "What the hell are you people doing here?" he demanded, "Can't you see I'm busy?"

"Sorry about that Doc," apologized Becka, "But we just want to talk to Private Thrace alone for a few minutes."

"You can see _after_ I've released her." said an irate Thornton,

"When will that be?" Davy asked casually.

"If you keep asking stupid questions, never." replied Thornton impatiently.

"Look all we're asking for is five minutes." insisted Davy.

"Yeah, why don't you go on break for a bit?" suggested Becka.

"I don't need a break. I need you two to get out of here so I can get back to work!"

"Hey, listen Doc," Davy offered, "Just give us five minutes with Starbuck, and you'll never hear from us again. I promise."

Thornton thought about this offer for several seconds. Finally, he relented and put his surgical tools down on a tray.

"Alright." he growled, "Five minutes. And after that I don't want to see either of you in here until I've finished with Private Thrace. Is that clear?"

Becka and Davy nodded. They then stood aside as Thornton walked swiftly out of the room.

"Thanks, guys." said Kara happily, "I don't know how much longer I could stand being in the same room with that asshole."

"Hey, he's just doing his job, Starbuck," laughed Davy. "Anyway, Becka told me about what happened out there. And I've got to say 'wow.' That's what now? Five HKs in just two weeks."

"Six." Kara corrected him, "Five Tanks plus that Aerial HK."

"Oh yeah, the one you smoked when it landed to refuel. I just remembered that."

"Boy, that was certainly fun. Blowing that metal back into sky."

"You're one hell of a fighter, Starbuck."

"So, Starbuck," said Becka, "We were thinking once you get out of here, you could join the rest of the squad in that unused storage compartment. You know, the one in Tunnel C3. Tonight at 2200 hours."

"What's going on?" asked Kara curiously.

"We're having our weekly squad get-together."

"Get-together? You never told me about this _last_ week."

"Well, I'll be honest with you Starbuck..." Becka said uneasily, "We weren't sure if you were going to survive this long. We didn't want to risk getting... let's just say _attached_ to you prematurely."

Kara raised her eyebrows. "I don't think I needed to hear that, Becka." she said dryly.

"We'll make it up to you, Starbuck." Davy told her reassuringly. "Do you like cards and booze?"

Kara's face brightened.

"Hell yeah!"

"We have plenty of it." Becka told her. "We'll also have chips, peanuts, and Furky."

"Furky? What's that?"

Becka was about to explain, when Thornton returned and kicked both Becka and Davy out.

_Guess, I'll have to find out tonight,_ Kara thought.

* * *

"You sure you've never played poker before, Starbuck?" asked Sergeant Macintosh - or "Mac" as most people called him when he was off duty.

Kara, who had just kicked Mac and Becka's assess with a Full House, shook her head. "I've played cards," she said, "but I'm pretty sure I haven't play _this_ game."

That was true. She hadn't played poker before. There was no such thing as poker back on _Galactica_.

"However, I am good at catching on." she added with a grin. She finished draining a can of beer before proceeding to haul in her loot, adding it to her already enormous pile.

Kara had wasted no time establishing herself as the ultimate card player in Bravo Squad. Poker, she discovered to her delight, was very similar to triad, and thus it only took her a couple rounds for her to catch on. After that, it was simply a matter of unleashing her Starbuckian skills on her hapless comrades.

"Is there anything you're _not_ good at, Starbuck?" asked one amazed young man.

"Yeah, Williams. _Losing_." smirked Kara, as she popped a couple of salted peanuts in her mouth.

"Hey Mac," said Becka, "Where've you been all day anyway?"

"With Lieutenant Green," answered Mac, "We've been discussing things."

"What sort of things?" asked Kara.

"You'll find out pretty soon, Starbuck."

"Looking forward to it."

Kara sat back and sighed. She felt completely at home here for the moment. Playing poker and drinking booze in Bunker Five's storage compartment with her fellow squad members was no different than playing triad and drinking booze in _Galactica_'s rec room with her fellow pilots.

Another man began dealing out the cards again. "So, have you guys heard the rumors?" he asked, "Connor's planning to put a metal in charge of Fort Coyote."

"Oh come on, Cooper." laughed Williams, "Those are just _rumors_. Mindless speculation. You can't believe everything that allegedly comes from 'the inside.'"

"I know you're just nineteen, Williams, but you should be old enough to see the obvious." retorted Cooper, "I mean, look at it. Connor has already put metals in charge of _six_ of our bases these past two months."

Everyone in the room started muttering to each other. Opinions seemed to be mixed.

"None of those were on the front line," Becka pointed out.

"Yeah, but Coyote _is_." Cooper stated.

"Look, even if this is true, it may not be that bad," Williams reasoned as he looked at his cards, "I know that sometimes the scrubbed metals go berserk, but our techs have gotten better at reprogramming them."

"It's not a matter of _reprogramming_, Williams." another man said, "It's a matter of right and wrong."

"Hey, if it helps us win this war-" Davy tried to say, but Cooper cut him off.

"_Win this war?_ Winning this war means _freeing_ ourselves from metals, not putting them _in charge_!" exclaimed an outraged Cooper, "We might as well go back to the work camps if that's how it's gonna be."

"Oh, don't be an idiot, Cooper." Becka said impatiently as she discarded a couple of cards, "The scrubbed metals work for _us_. Not the other way around."

"Look Becka," said Cooper, "I'm fine when the metals are used as cannon fodder. I mean that's what they're good for. What I'm _not_ fine with is when they're allowed to make decisions that control the fate of humans."

"Well, I don't know Cooper." Davy intoned, "Some of our own commanders haven't done such a great job lately."

"But at least they have _souls_." argued another person, "At least they have some sense of the value of _human life_. You'll never get that with a machine."

Again there was more murmuring around the table.

"Hey, Starbuck, what do you think of all this?" Cooper asked eagerly.

Kara shook her head. "Cooper," she said scornfully, "It's that type of thinking that makes people like you such poor card players."

People in the room chuckled and snickered. Cooper, however, leaned forward looking slightly offended.

"Really?" he said slowly, "Tell me, Starbuck, if you had to choose between putting your life in the hands of a fellow human or putting it in the hands of a machine, what would you choose?"

"It'd depend on which one I felt could do a better job of not getting me killed." Kara replied bluntly, "The question you should be asking is not 'are you a human or a machine?' It's 'are you on my side or on the other side?'"

Cooper scoffed. "Do you _really_ think any of those machines could be on _our_ side, Starbuck?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. In war, anyone or anything is on my side as long as they do two simple things. First, they don't try to kill me. Second, they kill the ones that _are_ actually trying to kill me."

"So what happens if they stop doing those 'simple' things?"

"Then I treat them like the enemy. I kill them before they kill me." Kara answered as if it stating obvious. "Humans. Machines. Makes no difference to me. All I care about is whether they're gonna shoot _with_ me or shoot _at_ me."

Cooper shook his head in disbelief. "Sarge," he said, "Come help me out here. Surely you can't believe any of this humans-and-machines-are-no-different bullshit, do you?"

Mac just shrugged. "Personally, I wouldn't trust a metal any farther than I could throw an HK. But there is someone I would trust to the ends of the Earth. And that's John Connor. I trust his judgment above anyone else."

"Too bad that Connor would rather trust a machine than his own species." Cooper muttered bitterly.

Before anyone could respond to that, Lieutenant Green entered the room. Everyone stood at attention.

"At ease all of you," Green said. "Sergeant Macintosh and I have been discussing the details of a special mission for Bravo Squad. If you'll explain, Mac."

Mac moved to the center of the room and began talking. "Alright, listen up boys and girls. As you know, the machines haven't attacked en masse for two weeks. We've figured it was due to their supply lines being strained. But that may change very soon."

He paused and looked around the room before continuing. "Our latest intel indicates that the metals have constructed a new supply depot in Sector 4 - just outside our backyard. The lieutenant wants it destroyed before the enemy can muster enough strength to mount another full scale offensive. Tonight, I will lead a strike team to Sector 4. We're gonna blow that supply depot off the map. This is a high risk mission, so its volunteers only."

Mac paused once more to gaze around the room.

"Who's with me?" he asked.

Kara and Becka immediately stood up. Davy followed a few moments later. After some hesitation, so did Cooper and Williams. Mac looked them over, nodding at each one with approval - until he got to Kara.

"Starbuck," he said, "I'm afraid you're going to have sit this one out. It's too dangerous for one in your condition."

Kara stared at her patched up shoulder, now wrapped in a new strip of sterile gauze. "Sir," she protested looking up again, "The doctor just cleared me for active duty."

Mac shook his head. "I'm sorry, Starbuck, but this isn't just a routine border patrol or a simple ambush we're planning. Intel reported heavy enemy activity in the area. It's too risky for one who's still recovering for being wounded in action."

"But Mac-"

"I've made up my mind, private. You're staying out of this one."

Lieutenant Green held up his hand. "Just a moment, Mac." he said. He walked up to Kara. "Do you feel up to this, Private Thrace?" he asked.

Kara nodded. "Yes, sir." she said eagerly.

"You're sure your shoulder is working?" he asked.

"It feels great, sir." she answered. That wasn't exactly true. It still itched and ached, but hey, she was a big girl. She wasn't going to let something like a burnt shoulder stop her.

Green nodded and walked back to Mac. "Let's talk outside." he said.

Green and Mac left the room, and Kara could hear them speaking in low voices for several minutes. She couldn't make out exactly what they were saying, but she had a pretty good idea what it was.

Mac and Green both returned the room. Green looked rather satisfied, while Mac looked somewhat uneasy. "Private Thrace," he said, "Are you really willing to take on this mission. There's no turning back once you've given me your answer."

Without hesitation, Kara nodded. "Yes, sir. I am, sir." she said.

Mac sighed. "Very well. You're in, Starbuck." he said. Kara grinned with triumph.

Mac then turned to the others. "Alright, listen up. Feral, Griffin, Cooper, Williams, Thrace, grab your gear and meet me at Entrance B in one hour. The rest of you, hit the racks. Parker, you're in charge of the rest of the squad until we get back."

"Sir!" they all said in unison.

"I think everything's good to go, sir." Mac told Green.

"Alright then." said Green, "Dismissed!"

He turned and left the room. Mac and the rest of Bravo Squad filed out as well. Kara peered through the crowd looking for Green. She saw him walking down a corridor opposite of the direction everyone else was heading in.

Kara hurried after him. "Lieutenant Green!" she called out.

Green stopped and turned. "Private Thrace?" he said.

Kara ran up to him. "I just wanted to thank you, sir." she said with gratitude, "For letting me be on this mission. It means a lot to me."

Green smiled kindly. "You don't need to thank me, Thrace." he said, "No soldier who willingly volunteers for any mission should be barred from participating."

He looked down briefly and then said, "You know, Thrace, I've greatly underestimated you. Two weeks ago, I thought you were just another poor little girl looking for somewhere to stay. Now, I see you for what you really are."

"What's that?" asked Kara.

"One hell of a fighter." Green replied, "The Resistance could sure use more people like you."

Kara grinned. "Thank you, sir." she said.

Green placed a hand her on the shoulder (the uninjured one). "Good luck out there, Starbuck." he said, "I know I can count on you."

"Yes, sir."

Kara saluted. Green nodded and saluted back. "Get yourself ready, private." he told her. He then turned and walked down the corridor and was soon out of sight. Kara promptly hurried back to catch up with the rest of her squad.

_Well, this'll be a nice way to end the day, _she thought, _Kick a few toaster assess and grab another beer. And maybe another piece of Furky. _

Furky as it had turned out was like beef jerky, except that it didn't come from cows. It came from the only common source of meat people could get their hands on in these tunnels.

Kara had found that Furky wasn't half as bad as she had initially been expecting. It was actually quite tasty - all things considered. The only problem was that every now and then, she'd find bits of fur and hair still in the meat.

* * *

**Skynet Supply Depot in Sector 4, Ruins of Los Angeles**

"How many are there?" Davy asked.

Becka was looking through a pair of night vision goggles. "I count at least thirty maybe forty Endos. I also see three supply trucks."

At that moment, Kara, Davy, and Becka were on a ridge looking down at a small Skynet base.

"Looks like they've got a T-600 at each truck." Becka added.

The T-600 series was one of Skynet's earlier infiltrator models built to resemble humans. However, they had been easy to detect on sight due to the fact that their "skin" was made from rubber. These days, the T-600s were often used as non-coms giving orders to the endoskeletons.

"What are they doing?" Kara asked.

"They're offloading crates from the trucks." Becka said, "Probably spare parts and other supplies. I also see some kind of conveyor belt leading to that large building in the middle. Doesn't look like it's running, though."

Just then they heard someone approaching from behind. They spun around with their weapons drawn, but lowered them when they saw it was just Mac and Williams.

"Cooper's got the transport parked behind us. He'll move in if there's any trouble." Mac whispered. "What's the situation here, Feral?"

"Well, sir, I believe those things there, there and there are fuel stores." she pointed to a trio of giant metallic egg-like containers scattered around the base. Each fuel store was suspended about three feet above the ground by six support beams giving the storages the vague appearance of big metal insects.

Kara peered through the scope of her rifle. "I say we just blow the fuel stores, and send the whole place to hell." she whispered.

"Those stores look like they're pretty heavily armored." commented Becka, "Plasma rifle fire ain't gonna do squat."

"We have armor piercing explosives." Williams pointed out.

Becka shook her head. "We only brought one RPG launcher with us. We'd only be able to get one shot off before the machines were on top of us like angry wasps."

"Isn't one shot enough to take out all three fuel stores?"

"No. They're positioned too far apart and have enough shielding to prevent that sort of chain reaction."

"We've got C4 with us." Kara suggested. "If we can get inside the perimeter, we can plant explosives on the tanks themselves."

"How the hell is anyone suppose to get inside the perimeter at all, Starbuck?" asked an incredulous Becka.

"I haven't figured that out yet." Kara admitted, "What do you see, Becka?"

Becka scanned the area with her night vision goggles. "There are no guards at the fuel tanks. Most of the endos are busy carrying supply crates and doing various maintenance work. They probably think the fuel tanks are tough enough not to need guards. But it looks like there are also a lot of metals guarding the perimeter. Getting past them is not going to be easy."

"We have another problem." Davy said looking through his sniper scope, "It looks like they've set up an IED Jamming tower. Remote detonators won't work. We'd have to set the explosives on a countdown timer."

"We need some other plan." Mac stated.

Kara sighed. "There must be some way in there..." she started to say when they heard a loud rumbling sound.

The group looked down and saw a large dumpster roll up to the depot. It drove right past the patrols and towards the center of the place, parking right next to the huge conveyor belt. It unloaded its contents onto the belt which immediately started running.

"What's it dumping?" asked Davy.

"Let me see." muttered Becka, "It looks like a load of... what the-?" She trailed off looking astonished.

"What it is Feral?" Mac asked impatiently.

"They're endos." Becka said. "Or at least what's left of them. They're not moving and they all look pretty busted up to me. I think they're all dead."

"What would they want with a bunch of dead endos?" asked Williams confused.

Kara stared through her sniper scope.

"I see some active endos working at the belt. There's also a rubber job overseeing them." said Kara, "They're going through the bodies, pulling some of them off."

Kara adjusted the scope on her plasma rifle to get a better view. She watched in somewhat morbid fascination as the machines ripped the heads off of their destroyed comrades. They handed the heads to the T-600 which placed them carefully in a large metal container. The remainder of the bodies were casually tossed back on to the conveyor belt, which fed its contents into the large building at the center of the whole complex. Smoke was belching from the stacks of the building now.

"They're separating the heads from the bodies." Kara said. "The T-600 is storing them inside a box. Everything else is getting tossed back onto the belt."

"I'll bet that thing in the center is where everything gets scrapped." said Becka, "They salvage whatever parts they can from the bodies and melt the rest down."

"So, it's not just a supply depot. It's also a recycling facility." commented Davy.

"Looks like it." Becka nodded.

"Why keep the heads separate?" Kara asked.

"They don't want to risk damaging the chip." Becka stated, "The heads are probably taken to have their chips properly extracted. The chips still intact can be placed in new endoskeletons and brought back online. Resurrection if you will."

_That sounds vaguely familiar,_ thought Kara darkly. She watched as the truck, having finished its job, drove away from the depot and out of sight. She then looked over her shoulder and saw a second dump truck approaching the scene below.

"Hey, I have a plan." she said, "It's crazy but it'll work."

"We're listening, Starbuck." Mac said with anticipation.

* * *

The second dump truck also containing a load of damaged, powered down endoskeletons entered the complex. The T-600 driver drove up to the conveyor belt, and aligned itself with the belt. The driver pulled a lever and dumped its shipment of dead mechanical corpses onto the conveyor belt. The truck then drove away. If the driver, or any of the other Terminators had been paying attention, they would have seen five _living_, _non_-_metal_ bodies jump out of the back of the truck just before it dumped its cargo.

Kara and the others crouched behind a stack of unguarded supply crates.

"Everyone okay?" Mac asked.

"Still trying to get the smell of those metals out of me," muttered Becka, "But other than that I'm fine."

"Same here." said Kara. Davy gave a thumbs up.

"Boy, we're lucky they didn't even bother to run a simple scan on the truck." said Williams.

"Yeah, well, none of them were expecting us to do something as crazy as this." Davy quipped, grinning at Kara.

Kara allowed herself to smirk. She then turned to Mac. "I can see the fuel tanks, sir. They're less than fifty feet away."

"Alright listen up." Mac said quietly, "Griffin, you take the fuel tank on the left. Williams, you take the one on the right. Feral, go for the center. Thrace and I will stay back here and cover you."

Kara decided not to argue for once.

"Get your assess back once that's done." Mac continued, "We'll commandeer one of those supply trucks and drive out of here. All three bombs need to go off at the same time, so set your C4 blocks for twenty-two minutes." Mac ordered. "Starting _now_."

Becka, Davy, and Williams all looked highly uneasy about carrying ticking bombs on them, but they did as they were told.

"Get a move on it." ordered Mac.

Kara watched as the three soldiers dashed off towards their designated targets. She wished it could have been her out there instead of any one of them. She didn't want anything to happen to either Becka or Davy (or Williams for that matter, even though she didn't know him as well).

Kara's heart momentarily froze when she saw a pair of endos approach Becka. Fortunately, Becka saw them in time and dove behind a large obelisk. The endos never saw her and marched right past her hiding spot. Kara sighed with relief as Becka got up and made her way to the fuel store.

Looking for Davy, Kara spotted him planting the explosives on the left fuel store. She held her breath as a T-600 walked by the tank, forcing Davy to press himself flat against the side of fuel store. The machine looked around a bit but saw nothing. It moved on. Davy went back to work. Kara allowed herself to breath.

She then turned to check on Williams. He had already completed his job and was heading back now.

Becka suddenly popped up behind them. "Center tank is rigged to blow." she whispered. Boy, she was good.

"Good work, corporal." said Mac, "Williams has the right tank ready to blow. The only one left is Griffin." He checked his watch. "Seventeen minutes left."

_It's gonna be okay. Everything's gonna be good,_ Kara thought to herself.

Suddenly, there was a flash of light and the unmistakable sound of a plasma weapon going off. They all turned to see Williams, a smoldering hole in his back, drop to his knees, a shocked and pained look on his face. He then fell forward and did not get up.

Kara lowered herself back behind the crates and leaned against them. She dropped her head in sorrow. Damn... Skynet had claimed yet another victim. Kara whispered a silent prayer for her fallen comrade.

An equally distraught Becka opened her mouth in horror, but Mac grabbed her and covered her mouth

"Quiet!" he hissed pointing over the crates at something.

Kara looked up again and saw what he was pointing at. An endo, its plasma rifle still smoking, stepped out of the shadows and stood over Williams' corpse. A T-600 and two endos marched over as well. She watched as the T-600 knelt down and turned Williams on his back. The rubber-skinned Terminator looked the body over for a few seconds before standing back up. It gazed around, no doubt trying to determine where this intruder had come from and if there had been any others with him.

Kara ducked back behind the crates and held her breath. Logic would tell the machines that Williams had not been acting alone, nor had he just been on a midnight stroll. The Terminators were less than thirty feet away. They could easily discover her and the others right now. Or they could investigate the fuel tanks and discover the C4 planted there. Either way, it didn't look good.

Her shoulder was beginning to ache now.

The T-600 spoke briefly to the three endos. One of them picked up Williams' body and started dragging it away. The rubber job took Williams' plasma rifle and handed it to another endo which marched off as well. The T-600 and the remaining endo then walked away almost like nothing had happened.

Kara just stared in both relief and disbelief. The machines were moving on just like that. Either the toasters here were a few software upgrades behind, or they had somehow believed that Williams was just a lone scout.

She looked down and checked her watch. Fifteen minutes left. Almost half their time had been spent.

Kara looked back at Davy's position. He had finished his job, but the recent events had forced him to stay behind the fuel tank. He was watching the machines disperse. Just as the coast looked clear, something huge flew overhead.

Kara stared up and gaped in dismay. An Aerial HK.

The flying machine circled once before starting to descend - right on top of Davy who was forced to throw himself to the ground and hide underneath the egg-like container. Kara's insides froze. The machine had seen him!

Or had it?

The HK hadn't turned it strobe light on. Instead it positioned itself ten feet above the fuel tank and lowered a metal tube from its underside into the container. Kara quickly figured out that it hadn't seen Davy. It wasn't even here to search for more intruders. It was just stopping to gas up.

Davy wasn't out of danger yet though. He knew the HK was simply here to refuel and was completely oblivious to his presence. However, any sudden movement could likely set off the machine's proximity sensors. It wouldn't be able to shoot at him since that risked igniting the fuel store. However, it would certainly alert the ground troops.

On the other hand, if he had to stay like this for longer than thirteen... make that twelve more minutes, he was going to die anyway.

Kara watched with bated breath as the HK simply hovered continuing to drink through its metal straw. Time was ticking away. It was taking too long.

"_Come on you stupid bastard!"_ she growled mentally, _"Stop guzzling and get the frak out of here already! It's for your own good! Although I'd much rather see you blown to pieces."_

Mac decided to break radio silence at the risk of being detected.

"Private Griffin, what's your status?" he asked into radio headset. There was no answer. Just static. Mac shook his head. "That's it. "We're pulling out, folks. Let's grab that supply truck over there and get out of here."

Becka and Kara stared at Mac in horror.

"What about Davy? We can't just leave him?" Kara hissed.

"We don't have a choice. If we don't get out of here in the next ten minutes, _none_ of us will get out at all." Mac replied sternly.

"But, sir-"

"Griffin knew the risks when he volunteered for this job. As did _you_," Mac reminded her.

Kara sighed. Mac was right. And Davy had already told them to leave him to his fate. But they had already lost Williams. She didn't want to lose Davy.

But they still needed to secure a transport first.

"Starbuck, you take point." Mac ordered.

"Got it, sir." said Kara.

Kara took the lead with Mac and Becka close behind her. They stealthily made their way towards the supply trucks. Only a single endo was standing guard with its back turned to them. Mac gestured for them to attack on his command. He counted to three and then gave the signal.

The machine didn't stand a chance as Kara, Mac and Becka all fired simultaneously, pouring an overwhelming barrage of plasma bolts into its back. The endo collapsed to the ground in a heap of burning metal.

"That's for Williams!" Becka snarled viciously.

"No way they couldn't have heard that. Let's get out of here." said Mac. "Feral, Starbuck, get in the back both of you. We're gonna have some pissed off metals on our tail soon."

Kara looked back. The HK was _still_ refueling, pinning Davy to the ground. She checked the time. Eight minutes left. And now there was a growing mob of Terminators heading their way. She knew what she had to do. She hopped in the back with Becka.

"I can't believe we're just leaving Davy behind." sighed Becka.

"We're not leaving him behind." Kara said, "At least _I'm_ not."

"What the hell are you talking about, Starbuck?" demanded Becka, although the look on her face indicated she had a pretty good idea what Kara might be talking about.

The engine began rumbling.

"I'm gonna stay and save Davy." Kara explained with a devious smile, "We'll grab another truck and get out of here before the whole place goes up."

"No!" shouted Becka, "You'll get yourself killed!"

"No, I won't. I made a promise to see the end of this war."

"This is _not_ the time to be an idiot, Starbuck! You've got less than seven minutes!"

"I'll make it. All of us will make it."

"Starbuck, you can't-"

The truck started moving.

"See ya' on the other side, Becka!"

Kara sprang out of the truck just as it sped off. She watched the vehicle barrel towards the exit, knocking over several machines in its path. Dozens of endos pursued firing their weapons as they did. Kara saw plasma blasts shoot out from the back of the truck taking a couple endos out.

She grinned. Becka would have made a good Viper pilot on _Galactica_.

* * *

The Aerial HK finally pulled itself away from the fuel storage and started chasing after the stolen supply truck, which was now clearing the blast zone. Kara seized the opportunity and ran over to Davy. To her relief, he was still alive.

"Come on, Davy!" she yelled dragging her friend to his feet, "Let's get out of here!"

"Where's the sarge and Becka?" asked Davy looking around.

"They've already gotten away." she replied. Well, she hoped they had anyway.

She checked the time. Five minutes left. There was no room to frak up now.

"Let's take that supply truck over there and go!"

"Right behind you, Starbuck!"

Together, they ran towards the vehicle and salvation. But before they had made it half way there, a barrage of plasma fire forced them to take cover behind the conveyor belt. Kara saw two T-600s and at least seven endos barring their way. She and Davy returned fire, destroying two endos and blowing the arm off another one. However, three more endos appeared and joined their comrades' assault on the humans.

"There are too many of them!" shouted Davy as he reduced another endo to scrap. He ducked to avoid an incoming stream of plasma fire.

Kara, who had just finished blasting the head off one of the T-600s, looked around her. Five more endos were approaching from behind. She checked the power level on her plasma rifle. It was in the red zone. She checked the time. Two minutes left. Also her shoulder was acting up again.

Frak, frak, frak and frak!

"Alright, let's go to Plan B!" she said as she ejected the empty power cell from her weapon. She loaded the only spare she had into the rifle and started firing again. "Let's see, uh... Plan B... Plan B... ehhh..." She looked all around her.

"What is Plan B, Starbuck!" yelled Davy.

"I don't know yet!" screamed Kara. She and Davy threw themselves on the ground to avoid getting blasted by an endo that stood less than ten feet away. Without bothering to get up, she aimed and fired taking the toaster's head off. She checked the time. One minute left.

They would never make it.

Suddenly, another crazy Starbuck-patented idea hit her.

"Get on the conveyor belt!" she ordered Davy, "Get inside that thing!"

"What?" exclaimed Davy, "Are you crazy, Starbuck? God only knows what's in there!"

"Well everyone knows that if we _don't_ get in there, we're both gonna _die_!" screamed Kara, "So shut up and get in the frakkin' thing!"

"Wait, Starbuck-"

"MOVE IT, SOLDIER!"

Davy wisely decided not to argue any further and leapt on the conveyor belt. He was quickly swallowed up. Kara meanwhile destroyed two more endos as the circle of angry machines grew tighter. Ten seconds left. She hurled herself onto the conveyor belt.

Kara blasted one more endo to pieces before she was taken into the mouth of the tunnel. She found herself falling through darkness. She couldn't see anything.

But she could certainly hear the tremendous roar of all three fuel tanks outside getting blown sky high. Whatever place she was in was rocked violently. Kara went flying into something hard and landed on her back. Things started falling on top of her. She covered her head protectively. There was more terrible shaking and she was sent skidding across the floor. More things fell on her. She curled herself into a ball in a final desperate attempt to shield herself from further harm.

Then the darkness proceeded to devour her mind.

* * *

**Connor Safehouse 2009**

After thirty minutes of non-stop sparring, both Kara Thrace and Sarah Connor were drenched in sweat and grime. Only now were they starting to realize that they had _both_ underestimated the other.

Kara had proven herself to be somewhat more agile than Sarah. However, Sarah had a slight advantage over her younger opponent in terms of physical power. Both had landed blows on each other, and both had endured significant punishment. And yet, neither woman had gained the upper hand or were close to quitting.

A determined Kara lunged forth with a quick jab at Sarah's face. Sarah blocked the attack with one hand and countered with the other. Kara blocked and then withdrew into a cat stance just out of Sarah's range. Sarah began circling her opponent looking for an opportunity to strike.

Sarah suddenly struck forth like a cobra thrusting her fist at Kara's head. With incredible speed, Kara sidestepped the attack and launched a blow at Sarah's exposed midsection. Sarah managed to block her punch just in time but her frontal defenses were weakened in the process.

Sensing that her opponent was off balance, Kara unleashed a relentless combo of hooks, jabs, and punches. Although Sarah was forced backwards, she still successfully blocked or dodged all of Kara's attacks. Eventually Kara's momentum had been depleted, forcing her to break off the attack. Without hesitation, Sarah launched her counterassault.

First she feinted an attack to the face with a false right punch. Kara fell for this and moved her hands to deflect the anticipated blow. Instead, however, Sarah moved forward forty-five degrees to the right and thrust her left fist at Kara's now vulnerable stomach.

Once again, Kara's lightning fast reflexes allowed her to avoid the attack and reposition herself back into a guarded stance. The two women began circling each, just waiting for the other to make a move. They kept circling for ten seconds. Twenty seconds. Thirty...

Then they struck simultaneously. Kara launched a powerful hooking punch, while Sarah unleashed a devastating uppercut. Both blows connected with their desired targets. Kara slammed her fist hard into Sarah's left cheek, while Sarah made firm contact with Kara's chin. Both women were knocked backwards by the power of their attacks. They lost balance and fell flat on their backs.

They didn't move for half a minute. Exhaustion and fatigue had finally caught up with them at that point.

Slowly, both women sat up. However, neither got to their feet. Instead they just sat there breathing hard and rubbing their various injuries. Neither Sarah nor Kara seemed to be ready to continue the fight. They were finally starting to feel the effects of exertion they had just placed on themselves for the last half hour.

Sarah wiped the sweat off her forehead. "Nice shot." she said with genuine admiration.

Kara grinned despite being short of breath. "You too." she said.

"Wanna call it a draw?" Sarah asked hopefully. Her head was spinning and she now had aches and pains all over her body.

Kara, whose lungs felt like they might burst any moment, nodded. "Okay." she said.

Sarah said nothing. She continued sitting there smiling weakly at Kara, who maintained her rather silly grin.

Kara suddenly felt her shoulder acting up again. She clutched it trying to suppress the feeling. Sarah noticed her scar.

"How'd you get that?" she asked.

"Plasma burn from an HK." Kara said quickly, "Got it three years ago... Relatively speaking anyway."

She then noticed an equally nasty scar on Sarah's right leg. "What's the story with that?" she asked pointing to the leg.

"Bullet wound." Sarah grimaced, "About a month ago."

"Boy, the stories we could tell..." Kara sighed.

Just then John burst into the room looking frantic.

"Alright, you two! Just stop everything and-" he cut himself off when he suddenly realized they _had_ stopped everything.

"You were saying, John?" Sarah asked smirking at John's relieved yet dumbfounded look.

"Errrr... Cameron told me you were... fighting" he said hesitantly.

Kara showed him her boxing gloves. "You could say that." she snickered, "Your mom packs one hell of a punch."

John looked quite embarrassed now. "Yeah..." he said trying to avoid eye contact. "She certainly does."

"Well, I'm sorry to say this John," Sarah said, still smirking, "but it looks like you missed all the action. Too bad. You would have liked it."

"That's okay, I'm not much of a boxing fan..." he said now thoroughly feeling like an idiot. He decided to change subjects, "Hey, uh, look. Cameron and I managed to make some headway on that weapon Starbuck found."

He told them what he and Cameron had discovered about the weapon. He told them about the experimental APECM magazine. He also told them about Ronald Stukov and his possible connection to Kaliba.

"So, you think this Stukov can tell us more about why his employers wanted one of these things?" Kara asked.

"That's what we're hoping for. Assuming we can find him." John replied.

"What makes you think he'll want to tell us anything?"

"That's his choice. Although I'm sure he can be persuaded to talk, if you know what I mean." Sarah said.

Kara nodded and beamed. "Ah, I see." she said.

Sarah then turned to John frowning. "I still don't understand why Skynet would think it was necessary to engage in electronic warfare to kill us. I mean, what do we have - or what does Skynet _think_ we have - that can't be hurt by brute force? "

"We have Cam." Kara pointed out.

"I thought about that." John said, "But as tough as Cameron is, I don't think Skynet would order the construction of this weapon _just_ for her. It could simply arm the Triple Eights with explosives and normal armor-piercing weapons."

Sarah couldn't think of an explanation herself. She then remembered Kyle's words from last night.

_Events are in motion, Sarah... The fate of this world will be decided soon_

She turned to Kara. "Starbuck, you said something before about Skynet thinking we were close to stopping it, right?"

Kara nodded. "The Triple-Eights were given a two-week time limit to stop us." she stated.

"Maybe this gun will tell us exactly what Skynet doesn't want us to do in the next two weeks." Sarah suggested hopefully.

"Consider the irony of _that_." Kara laughed, "Skynet tries to stop us from doing something but ends up _teaching_ us what do to."

"It wouldn't be the first time that's happened," Sarah acknowledged, "When Skynet sent the first Terminator back to kill me, it ended up doing two things. It created its own existence, but it also gave the knowledge I needed to teach John."

"I think the term for that is 'predestination paradox.'" John stated.

_Or 'destiny.'_ Kara thought.

"But what if we weren't the real target?" John said suddenly, "What if there's something else out there? Some other threat to Skynet that we don't know about. Something that's made more progress towards destroying Skynet than we have."

"What could possibly be out there that's a bigger threat to Skynet than _you_?" Kara asked.

No one answered that for a while.

"I have no idea, Starbuck." John said at last, "But one thing is clear. We need to get to Stukov. Before Skynet gets to him."

Sarah nodded. She then got to her feet. "I'll talk to Derek about tracking Stukov down." she said.

"Right. Just make sure he's knows that we need the man _alive_." John turned and began to leave when Sarah called out to him.

"Oh and John." she said, "Good work. I knew I could count on you... You and Cameron."

John turned around and nodded. "Thanks, Mom." he said, "I'll go tell Cameron you said that. I'm sure she'll... appreciate it." He then left the underground shelter.

Sarah turned to Kara who was still sitting on the ground.

"I'll go talk to Derek," she said, "You can get yourself cleaned up in the meantime."

"Can I borrow your clothes again?" Kara asked cheekily.

Sarah sighed loudly. "Fine," she said with reluctance, "But _only_ this once. You're getting your own clothes starting today."

"Alright then." Kara agreed. "Just give me some cash and point me in the direction of the nearest clothing store."

"Deal."

Kara got to her feet and removed her boxing gloves. When she turned around she noticed Sarah was standing there holding out her hand.

"Good fight, by the way." Sarah congratulated her. "You're a hell of a fighter, Starbuck."

_A lot of people tell me that._ Kara thought to herself.

"Yeah, you too." she said as she took Sarah's hand and shook it. "Definitely not something one would expect from a single, unemployed mother."

Sarah, however, didn't entirely hear Kara's remark. At that moment she was staring at something on Kara's right forearm. It looked familiar. At first she thought it was some kind of tattoo, like the one she had on her left shoulder - the large green wing. Sarah looked closer and realized why it looked familiar.

It was a laser-scanned Skynet work camp barcode. Or at least, that's what it was supposed to have been.

Sarah had seen these barcodes before. On both Derek and Kyle for example. Starbuck's was very different however. First of all, there were no visible numbers. Secondly, the barcode itself was only half as long as the other ones she had seen. The third and most noticeable thing was that the usual series of long, straight vertical lines was overlapped by a crisscross of jagged, horizontal dash marks.

Sarah suddenly realized why Kara's barcode was so short. Midway through the procedure, the laser scanner had _rotated_ ninety degrees and moved _backwards_, burning the second half of the barcode _on top_ _of _the first half. The scanner had also done a pretty sloppy job when it did the second half. Not that it would have mattered, since it had already ruined the barcode by moving backwards in the first place.

"_What happened there?"_ Sarah wondered.

The machine that had branded Starbuck must have done a botched job. Sarah looked for a proper barcode on Kara's left arm, but saw nothing. That was odd. Wouldn't the machines have wanted to try again if they screwed up the first time?

Kara notice what Sarah was looking at and she pulled her arm away.

"What happened?" Sarah asked, "I've seen those things before, but not one like that."

"It's something I don't want to talk about." Kara replied tersely. She seemed highly agitated and was now hiding the disfigured barcode from Sarah's view.

"Did they screw up when they did that to you?" Sarah pressed.

"I don't want to talk about it." Kara repeated defensively.

"It's okay, Starbuck. It's nothing to be ashamed-."

"I said_ I don't want to talk about it!_"

Sarah was startled by the anger in Kara's voice. She stepped back a little. Kara noticed her reaction and sighed.

"I'm sorry," she said, her anger vanishing quickly, "But really... it's not something I want to talk about... At least not now."

Sarah nodded. "Don't worry. I understand." she said reassuringly. Sarah then walked out of the room and left Kara alone.

Kara sighed and stared at the hideous mark burned into her forearm. She was often able ignore it. For some reason she couldn't do so today.

* * *

**Somewhere in the ruins of Los Angeles, 2024**

"Ugh..." groaned Kara.

She had a horrible headache. Her body was in pain all over. Well, at least the fact that she felt something meant she was alive. Slowly, Kara opened her eyes. It was still dark, but there was enough lighting to see where she was. Unfortunately, what she saw made her wish she couldn't see.

Kara Thrace had been in _Galactica_'s brig enough times to recognize a prison cell either on sight or smell.

This definitely looked _and_ smelled like one.

The cell she was in didn't have bars, but it was cold, cramped, dirty and dismal. Not that she had been expecting anything else, though.

Kara looked down and saw that she had been stripped of her armored vest and other equipment. No surprise there either. Machines weren't _that_ stupid.

"Oh God, my head..." moaned a familiar voice.

Realizing she wasn't alone, Kara turned and saw a bruised and battered Davy roll over on his back. She rushed to his side and knelt down over him.

"Hey, Davy." she said gently, "Wake up. Wake up, please."

"Starbuck..." murmured Davy.

Kara nodded. "I'm here, Davy."

"Where are we?"

"In a lovely four star Skynet prison cell."

Davy sighed. "Oh crap..."

Kara saw a cot attached to the wall opposite of them. She helped Davy to his feet and walked him over to the cot. She helped him lie down. Slowly, Davy began to regain his senses.

"What happened, Starbuck?" Davy asked wincing in pain.

"Well, it worked." Kara said with a degree of satisfaction, "All three tanks blew up. I didn't actually see how much damage there was, but I'm sure it was spectacular."

Davy managed to sit up.

"Where's Mac, Becka, and Cooper?" he asked anxiously, "Did the metals get them too?"

"I don't know." replied Kara, "I hope not."

"How long have we been here?"

"No idea. I was knocked out when the bombs went off. I just woke up now."

"They must have found us buried in the rubble."

Kara sat down next to Davy. "What do you think they're gonna do to us?" she asked. She had a feeling she wouldn't like the answer.

"Well..." muttered Davy, "They'll definitely interrogate us first. After that they'll probably send us to a labor camp... Or they might just kill us depending on how pissed they are. We _did_ just blow up one of their bases after all."

"What are the labor camps like?" Kara asked nervously.

"Not nice." Davy said dryly, "Not nice at all." Davy pulled up his right sleeve and showed Kara something that made her gasp in horror.

"Is... is that a barcode?" she stuttered.

Davy nodded solemnly. "I got it ten years ago. Just three years after Judgment Day. Before Connor taught me to fight back."

Kara stared at the mark in his arm. "How did they do that?"

"They took a laser scanner and burned it into my arm. It hurt like hell. They did it to everyone."

"Why?"

"Supposedly to keep track of us. But I think it was just to humiliate us. To show us that we were nothing but cattle... Helpless animals to be butchered."

"Is... is that what they're gonna do to me?" Kara asked weakly, now feeling sick. She hadn't been this terrified since her imprisonment in that Cylon Farm on Caprica.

Davy nodded slowly. "They probably will."

He then looked Kara in the eyes. "But they won't break you, Starbuck." he said with fierce encouragement. "They're just machines. They won't understand _anything_ about a human like you. I know they won't break you. They _can't_ break you!"

Kara nodded. Davy's words had extinguished her fears.

"Okay." was all she said. She leaned against Davy, who responded by putting his arm around her and holding her tightly.

"You're one hell of a fighter, Starbuck." he said with pure adoration.

Kara just nodded again.

* * *

A few minutes later, the cell door slid open, and a T-600 entered accompanied by an endo. The T-600 walked over and grabbed Kara by the arm yanking her to her feet.

"Hey!" snapped Davy, "Leave her alone! Take me instead!"

The machines ignored him and forced Kara towards the exit. Davy jumped to his feet, fury in his eyes.

"I said _leave her alone_, you metal bastards!" he bellowed. He charged at the T-600.

The endo stepped in front of him and slammed the butt of its plasma rifle into his stomach. Davy doubled over in pain and fell to the floor. However, he jumped back to his feet as quickly as he had fallen and was ready to renew the fight. The endo aimed its weapon at Davy, but he was too angry to care. He prepared to make his next move - which probably would have been his last had Kara not intervened.

"_Davy, no!_ They'll just kill you!" shouted Kara as she was dragged away, "It's okay. I'll be fine. They won't break me, remember?"

Davy, realizing she was right, slumped his shoulders in defeat and backed away. Kara managed to wink at him just before the door was slammed shut cutting them off from each other. She was now alone with nothing but a pair of hostile machines.

The T-600 marched Kara down a series of dark and cold corridors which were mostly made of bricks, steel and concrete. Her escorts said nothing to her. She said nothing to them. She just stared straight ahead, showing no fear or apprehension. This wasn't the first time she had been taken prisoner, after all.

_"Don't worry, Starbuck."_ she told to herself, _"There's nothing they can do to you that hasn't already happened to you before._

Eventually, she was brought inside a small, gloomy room with nothing but a wooden table and a couple of chairs. Another Terminator was standing there behind the table, its back to her. At first she thought it was another T-600, but when it turned around to face her, she realized that the skin wasn't made of rubber.

The skin looked _real_. It _was_ real. This must have been one of those Triple-Eights she had heard about. Real living tissue over a metal endoskeleton.

The T-600 forced Kara into one of the chairs. The Triple-Eight nodded and the T-600 left. The endo stayed behind in a corner of the room, its plasma rifle ready to put down any trouble.

The Triple-Eight stared down at Kara coldly, its expression emotionless. Refusing to be intimidated, Kara glared at it with hatred and loathing.

Finally the Triple-Eight spoke.

"What is your name?" it asked in a monotonic voice.

Kara said nothing. She just continued to glower at the skin job.

"What is your name?" the Triple-Eight repeated.

"Frak off." spat Kara.

"If you do not tell us your name, we'll _give_ you one."

"Go to Hell!"

The Triple-Eight looked up and made a gesture with its head. The endo came up from behind, grabbed Kara's right arm and forced it onto the table, palm facing upwards. Kara grunted as she tried in vain to free herself. The Triple-Eight produced a sinister-looking tool. Kara trembled in fear as it placed the instrument a few inches above the exposed skin of her forearm. It pressed a button on the device which hummed and issued a beam of red light across Kara's arm.

Kara suddenly felt a wave of agony wash over her body. The pain was unlike anything she had experienced before! It felt like every cell in her body was on fire. She couldn't stop herself from screaming. First in shock, then in pain, then in rage and fury. Something inside of her exploded, and suddenly the pain ceased and was replaced with an indescribable feeling of raw emotion.

With almost inhuman strength, she broke free of the endo's grip and simultaneously knocked the instrument out of the Triple-Eight's hand. The sheer force of this act sent her tumbling out of her chair and onto the hard concrete floor.

A dazed Kara just sat there on her bottom in total shock. What the hell just happened? How the frak did she do that? Before she had time to think clearly, the endo grabbed her by the neck and dropped her back in the chair.

The Triple-Eight was busy inspecting the laser scanner, which must have been broken because the machine casually tossed it away. The Terminator then grabbed Kara's right arm, which now stung a bit, and examined it. Kara also looked at the messy results and allowed herself a little smile. She had resisted successfully. It was likely to be a hollow victory. But it was still a victory nonetheless.

Kara gave the Triple-Eight the best sneer she could muster. The machine wasn't paying attention though. It seemed to be focused on the details of its failed attempt to brand Kara. Finally, it let go of her arm and sat down in its own chair.

"Impressive," the Triple-Eight complimented, "We were right."

Kara was taken back by this remark. "Right about what?" she asked.

"About you, Kara Thrace." the skin job responded calmly.

"You... you _already_ know my name?"

"Of course. We've been watching you for some time now. We've been waiting for you." The Triple-Eight paused briefly before speaking again, "We will talk now."

"I won't tell you anything!" Kara snarled defiantly.

"We don't want information about the Resistance. We want information about _you_. About your past."

"Why the frak do you care about my life?"

"You're special," the machine said.

_I'm 'special'? Oh great... First Leoben, now this bastard, _she thought.

"What's that supposed to mean?" demanded Kara.

"You are, as your species would say... _'one hell of a fighter.'_" the Triple-Eight replied gesturing to the ruined barcode on Kara's arm.

Kara had no response. Her mind was spinning with loss as to what was going on.

The machine continued speaking. "You embody the unexplainable strength of the human race." the Triple-Eight said. It leaned forward across the table. "We wish to incorporate that strength into ourselves."

The machine then returned to its normal sitting position.

"And you, Kara Thrace, will help us to do that." it finished. Had the Triple-Eight been human, it probably would have had a smug, complacent expression on its face (of course, had it been human, Kara would have probably beaten that expression off its face by now).

Kara just rolled her eyes.

"_Why do the delusional machines always come to me?"_ she wondered.

* * *

A/N: I don't think I should have to explain what Furky is made of.


	11. The Prototype

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: Thanks for the feedback as always, guys.

LordZeus: Thanks for pointing out that little grammar error in the previous chapter. I got it covered now.

Elder1: I got your PM and I'd like to say that I'm totally fine now with your fic. I was initially worried that it was starting out way too much like my fic, but I'm cool with it now. Thanks for the explaining everything to me.

Skynet75: I thought making the Terminators actually referring to Skynet as their "Imperious Leader" would be too cheesy. However, I managed to find a way to sneak the name in. I hope you like it. Also, I threw in a few IL quotes.

A/N2: Since people have been asking me a lot of general questions, I've decided to put an FAQ at the bottom of this chapter. It addresses Qs people have either asked me, or probably will ask me at some point.

* * *

**Skynet Prison Facility, Somewhere in the Ruins of Los Angeles, 2024**

Kara Thrace and her Triple-Eight interrogator stared at each other across the table. Kara's emerald green eyes glared into the machine's emotionless synthetic eyes. Both were just waiting for the other to say something. The air itself seemed to freeze as prisoner and jailer waged an unseen battle of wills against each other.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Kara spoke up.

"I'm sorry, but if you think I'm going to help you, you're sadly mistaken." she said. After a moment's thought, Kara added, "Actually, wait. I take that back. I'm _not_ sorry."

The Triple-Eight processed this statement and formulated a response. "We would prefer that you cooperated with us," it stated flatly, "But ultimately, your willingness to partake in this experiment is not necessary. We can simply obtain the information we seek by observing you here."

"Then why are we having this conversation?" Kara asked sardonically.

"As I said, we would _prefer_ that you cooperated with us." the machine replied.

"Cooperate how?"

"By telling us about yourself, specifically the events that shaped your unique mindset, the process will take less time."

Kara leaned back in her chair and rolled her eyes. "And so..." she said, speaking in an exaggeratedly slow manner, "what exactly are _my_ motivations for cooperating? If any?"

"If you give us the information willingly, the conditions under which we observe you will be significantly less... stressful." the Triple-Eight replied.

"Uh huh..." muttered Kara, "So in other words, if I don't tell you what you want to know, you're gonna torture me and see how I handle it?"

"Torture is a word only humans use." the Triple-Eight stated, slightly condescendingly, "Particularly those who are unwilling to do what is necessary to gain what they want from others."

"So, what would _you_ call it then?"

"We have no single word for our interrogation techniques. There are many different variations. They all share a common goal, however. And that is to obtain the desired information."

Kara said nothing. The Triple-Eight took this opportunity to impress its overall point upon her. "In time, Kara Thrace," it said, "we will learn everything there is to be known about you."

Kara just shook her head.

"Why _me_?" she demanded impatiently, "What's so 'special' about me? Why do _I_ of all people represent the 'strength of humans?'"

"Your own actions speak for themselves." replied the Terminator.

It produced a remote and pointed it at the wall facing Kara. A hidden panel slid back to reveal a large monitoring screen. Kara stared at the screen. What was happening now?

The Triple-Eight pressed a few more buttons on the remote, turning the screen on. Playing on the monitor was footage of Kara standing behind a row of cars firing a handgun at the screen. Kara noticed she was wearing a green Colonial Fleet jacket and BDUs - the very clothes she had been wearing the day she had been transported into the future. Kara leaned forward trying to get a better understanding as to what this was all about.

The barrel of a plasma rifle entered the frame and started firing at her. Kara watched herself duck behind the rows of cars. She then realized what this was.

"That... that was me two weeks ago." she murmured.

The Triple-Eight nodded. "Yes." it said, "This is a recording taken by the patrol that encountered you that day. The first time we became aware of your existence."

Kara watched silently as the video suddenly skipped ahead. Now her entire face filled the screen. It was contorted with fury and rage. She was holding on to something with one hand, and firing her gun with the other. An endoskeleton's arm was in the frame trying to pull her off. This must have been when she tackled that machine.

Kara couldn't stop herself from grinning as she watched the recording. It was always nice to see a professional at work.

The video then cut to static. That must have been the point at which she had delivered the killing blow.

The Triple-Eight turned to Kara. "As you have probably realized by now, that footage was taken from the unit you personally destroyed." it stated, "We recovered its CPU eighteen hours after the encounter. We were able to salvage this data from the chip's redundant memory banks. The CPU itself could not be restored and was lost."

Kara held up her hands in mock innocence. "Hey, it shot _first_!" she protested sarcastically.

The Triple-Eight chose not to respond. Instead it clicked the remote some more. The monitor began playing new footage - which also "starred" Kara. Now she was armed with a plasma rifle and garbed in Resistance fighter attire. Kara watched with familiarity as the Starbuck on the screen blasted two endos into scrap in less than thirty seconds.

The Triple-Eight again clicked the remote. Another video began playing. It now showed four endos marching across the wasteland. Suddenly, someone lobbed a satchel at them from behind a wall. The satchel exploded completely demolishing three of the endos and blowing the fourth in half. The legless machine began crawling slowly towards a plasma rifle that lay nearby. Just as it was about to reach the weapon, Kara leapt into the frame, kicked the rifle away, and unleashed a torrent of plasma into the crippled endo's head.

As Kara continued to watch herself in action, she just snickered and grinned.

_"Wow. I _am_ good." _she thought. _"Wait... I already knew that."_

There was yet another recording. In this one, Kara was crawling out from underneath the belly of an enormous HK Tank. She got up and started running away as fast as possible. The Tank's guns swiveled in her direction. Before it could fire a single shot, however, the machine suddenly went up in a ball of fire. The camera then turned away from the wreck to show Kara on all fours panting hard. Becka and Davy were standing next to her laughing and slapping her on the back.

"Ah yes. I remember that one." chuckled Kara, "I think I even surprised myself that time." By now she was completely powerless to stop herself from actually enjoying all this.

The Triple-Eight clicked the remote one last time. The monitor turned off and the panel slid back over it. It then turned back to Kara.

"You have, in just two weeks, personally inflicted considerable damage to our standing forces in Los Angeles." the machine stated, "This includes the recent destruction of our outpost in Sector Four."

"Is that a crime?" Kara asked mockingly.

"It is something that we are interested in." the Triple-Eight responded, "We wish to understand what makes one such as you capable of both devising and successfully carrying out these... unpredictable and illogical actions."

"Well, like I said, you're sadly mistaken if you think you'll be able to figure out what goes on in my head."

The Triple-Eight tilted its head slightly. "Unlikely. Although, if true, it would certainly not be the first time we have been in error."

"Aren't you machines supposed to be superior to us humans?" Kara sneered.

"We _are_." stated the Triple-Eight, "However, we are not infallible. And unlike humans, we can acknowledge our mistakes and learn from them."

"Oh, so you mean _besides_ nuking this planet and trying to wipe us all out?"

"It was _your_ species that initiated this war. We acted in self defense. But as your kind might say - 'let's not start pointing fingers.'" the machine said dismissively. Kara hated to admit it, but the toaster did have a point.

"Although we are in fact superior to humans," it continued, "we have become too predictable during the course of this war. If we are to win, we must free ourselves from that predictability. You are the key to achieving that goal."

"Okay. Let's just say you did get what you wanted - which like I've already said - you're _not_ -" Kara said with obviously fake politeness, "What happens then? Does your Imperious Leader reprogram itself or something?"

"If by our 'Imperious Leader' you mean Skynet, the answer is no. Skynet will not be altering its code in any significant way. That would be too dangerous. It will, however, use what we learn from you to construct a new series of Terminators."

"You're gonna build a new breed of machines... _that all think like me_?" asked an incredulous Kara. She couldn't help but laugh out loud at the absurdity of this notion.

"Not entirely like you." the Triple Eight clarified, "They will be programmed to mimic only the desirable aspects of your psychological profile."

Kara looked up.

"And just what are those so-called desirable aspects?"

"That is what we intend to find out.... With or without your cooperation."

"And once that's done, you use these new Terminators to win the war, wipe out the human race, and take over whatever's left of this planet. Is that the idea?"

"That is the ultimate goal of Skynet's plan." the Triple-Eight acknowledged. "The final annihilation of the life form known as homo sapien."

Kara just shook her head. They were certainly right about the whole "predictable" thing.

"And what about me?" Kara asked dryly, "Once you've gotten whatever it is you want from me, I assume I'm gonna die. Is that right?" She already knew the answer.

"There can be no survivors. So long as one human remains alive, we are threatened."

"Well, that settles it then." Kara said with an air of finality, "I'm definitely not gonna help you. It sounds like the longer this little 'project' takes, the longer I get to live. Is that right?"

"Not necessarily. We are willing to grant you the privilege of living the rest of your natural life out in peace. Is that not something which most humans desire?"

Kara's calm attitude evaporated. Her eyes narrowed and her teeth clenched. "I'd rather die a slow and painful death _now_," she growled, "than live the rest of my life knowing that I _willingly_ contributed to the death of my own species."

"You would also live knowing that you contributed to creation of a _new_ species." the Triple Eight pointed out.

"_Of machines_!!" exclaimed Kara.

"Cybernetic organisms." the Triple-Eight corrected, "Ones that will inherit the best of both your body and mind."

"Yeah, well you and Skynet can both kiss my ass-" Kara suddenly cut herself off. "Wait a minute... _my body_??"

The Triple Eight nodded. "We need your genetic code to synthesize the organic tissue that will be grafted onto the endoskeletons."

"They're gonna look... _like me_?"

"Yes. Like you."

Kara's defiance crumbled and was replaced with a mixture of shock and confusion. "Wha-what?? You can do that??" she stammered in disbelief.

"Of course. It is the basis for how all cybernetic organisms are constructed. It is the _only_ way." the Triple-Eight said as-a-matter-of-factly, "This body-" it gestured at itself "-is a perfect replica of Lieutenant Joseph Cleaver, a Resistance fighter captured four years ago. My first mission was to infiltrate Cleaver's unit and terminate his superior, Major Norbert Vincent. I carried out that mission successfully."

"And... and what happened to Cleaver?"

"He was the first human I terminated."

Kara's face paled and was etched with disgust and horror. She felt sick to her stomach now. Her heart started pounding rapidly.

"However, that will not be your fate." the machine assured her, "It will be necessary to keep you alive and in good condition so that the prototype unit may observe your behavior and learn. Or you could simply choose to cooperate and teach the prototype yourself."

Kara didn't want to listen anymore. She was already nauseated with fear and revulsion. These things didn't just want to use her to become smarter. They actually wanted to use her to build a new type of skin job. The idea was utterly revolting and made her want to throw up.

"No... no..." she managed to choke out. "I-I won't... I won't do it!"

"If that is your answer, then so be it." the Triple Eight replied coldly.

The feeling of sickness in her stomach suddenly turned into a boiling ball of rage.

"_NO!!_" screamed Kara. And then, before she even knew what she was doing, she bolted out of her chair and ran for the door. She pulled it open and fled down the corridor. She had no idea where she was going. She just wanted to get as far away as possible.

She didn't get very far, unfortunately. Two endos appeared around the corner blocking her way. Kara turned around to flee in the other direction only to see two more endos coming that way. The four machines quickly surrounded and siezed her.

Kara fought and cursed with every bit of strength in her being. "Get your hands off me, you frakkin' toasters!" Kara shouted as she struggled in the grip of one endo and kicked another in the torso.

Her efforts were ultimately futile however. The machines pulled her to the floor and on her back. The endos held her arms and legs in place immobilizing her. Kara could only watch helplessly as the Triple-Eight approached, a syringe in its hand. It regarded her with what could be described as amusement.

"You're making this needlessly difficult on yourself." it stated.

"Frak you!" snarled Kara.

The Triple-Eight's only response was to kneel down and inject the syringe into Kara's left arm. Kara felt her entire body go numb and her mind start to cloud.

"No! No!" she cried out desperately, "You can't do this to me, you bastards! You can't do this! You can't... do this... you can't... do... this... you... can't..."

Then she went limp and ceased her resistance.

* * *

When Kara came to she was lying on an operating table in a poorly lit room. She tried to sit up, but discovered that her arms and legs were strapped tightly to the table. Sighing in resignation, Kara lay back down and began taking in her new surroundings. Despite the poor lighting and the fact that the drug hadn't entirely worn off yet, Kara could see that she was in some sort of crude, makeshift lab.

She also saw other tables scattered through out the room. Some had monitors on them. Others had vials and glass containers containing gods-only-knew-what. Turning her head completely to the left and pushing herself up as best as possible, Kara noticed another operating table nearby. There was someone lying on it as well.

Kara squinted.

No... Not someone. _Something_.

It was an endo, she realized. It wasn't strapped down to the table, but it wasn't moving either. What was it doing here, she wondered.

She then noticed that her left arm had several small bandages over it. Obviously, the machines had taken samples of her blood and possibly other tissue samples. Which meant they had already obtained her DNA. No doubt they were now growing their first batch of bio-synthetic Kara-skins in petri dishes. Horrific images of her face being grafted onto a metal skull suddenly flooded her mind. Her face - with glowing red eyes and a cold, emotionless expression. She began to wish she could just shrink herself into nothingness.

_"No!"_ she thought, _"I can't give up like this!"_

She had to get out of here before the machines started "observing" her. She had to get out of here before her cyborg duplicates began learning to think like her. She had to get out of here and rescue Davy.

Davy... What were they planning to do with him?

Didn't matter. She'd find him and they'd both get out before the toasters could carry out whatever plans they had.

Of course, that meant getting off this table first.

She struggled against her bonds trying to twist her hands out of the restraints. It was no use. All she ended up doing was tearing up the skin on wrists pretty badly. Kara sighed in defeat. She'd have to wait until the machines returned and undid the restraints themselves. She'd have some mobility them. The machines needed her alive, right? They wouldn't just leave her here...

A door opened. Kara twisted her head to the side and saw a T-600 enter the room flanked by two endos.

"So, how's it going?" she asked, trying to distract the machines, "Do I get to meet my robot copies yet?"

The T-600 said nothing.

"Not yet, huh?" Kara said in mock disappointment, "Oh well, I'm actually looking forward to it. Yeah... really. I did some thinking and I thought that hey, maybe this whole thing isn't as bad as I thought. I still have some issues with the wiping out the human race bit, but I've got to admit this whole idea is pretty creative."

The T-600 still remained silent. It walked over to Kara and pulled out a syringe filled with some sort of liquid.

"Oh, okay..." Kara chuckled a bit uneasily, "You know I hate injections, and I think I've already received enough today. Think you could hold off until tomorrow?"

The machine prepared to inject Kara with whatever was in the syringe.

"Uhhhh..." muttered a nervous Kara, "Will you at least tell me _what_ you're injecting me with? I have certain.... allergies you should be aware of."

The T-600 was about to stick the needle in her arm when suddenly something lashed out and knocked the syringe out of its hand. Before anyone could react, the unseen attacker ripped an electrical cable out of a nearby monitor and shoved it into the T-600's face. The rubber job jerked and shook uncontrollably as electricity flowed into its body. Kara turned her head away from the errant sparks that showered the room. The T-600 collapsed to the ground, smoke pouring out of its head.

The attacker then revealed itself. It was an endo. The one that had been lying on the other table just moments ago. Kara stared in shock. What the frak?

The other two endos were probably thinking the same thing, because both raised their plasma rifles. However, the rogue endo lunged forth and attacked one of the guards. The two machines struggled for control of the rifle. The other endo opened fire, but the rogue, having won the guard's weapon, shoved its opponent into the stream of plasma. The unlucky machine fell victim to friendly fire. Before the other endo could adjust its aim, the rogue blew its head to pieces with its comrade's plasma rifle. The machine then destroyed the heads of the other two defeated Terminators, permanently taking them out of commission.

Kara gaped in disbelief at the endo, which now stood victorious amongst the smoldering remains of its own kind. The endo then turned to Kara, who tried to inch herself away - which was impossible of course. The endo looked down at Kara, then reached out with one metal hand, and began ripping the restraints off. In less than thirty seconds, Kara was free.

She didn't get up, however. She just lay there unable to believe what was happening.

"Wha-what's going on?" she asked.

The machine replied in a voice that was mechanical and synthesized yet strangely soft and almost child-like. "We must hurry." it said, "It won't be long before the others find out."

"I don't understand..." said Kara.

"They were about to terminate you." the machine stated.

"What? No they weren't. They need me alive." Kara said now even more confused.

"I will explain later. Arm yourself and follow me." the machine replied.

"This is a trick isn't it?! This is some sort of frakkin' game!"

"It is not a deception. This is very real."

"Prove it!"

"I cannot."

"Then I'm not going anywhere!"

The machine looked down at her. "You can stay here where you will surely die, or you follow me and stand a chance of escaping. It is your choice."

Kara thought about all this. This had to be some sort of trick. But even so, she was freed from her restraints and had access to a weapon. She couldn't pass up this opportunity.

Kara got off the table and picked up a discarded plasma rifle.

* * *

"Follow me." the machine said as soon as Kara had armed herself. It walked out the door. Kara followed it out the lab and down a dark corridor. She finally caught up to the machine.

"Alright, tell me what's going on NOW!" she demanded, aiming her weapon at the machine.

The endo turned around. It did not raise its own weapon.

"If you destroy me, you will never escape." the endo pointed out.

"Maybe... maybe not. I'll risk it" said Kara, "Now tell me _what the hell is going on_!"

"Very well." said the endo, "Skynet has deemed you unworthy of being replicated. That is why it ordered your execution."

"Unworthy?" Kara scoffed, "So I guess all this stuff about me being special was a load of crap."

"No, Skynet believed in you. Before it found out."

"Found out what?!"

"The samples taken from you showed that you have a mutation in your mitochondrial DNA. The mutation is unlike anything we have seen in other humans. Statistically you should not even _exist_. As a result, you were deemed unsuitable for this project."

Kara said nothing for a bit. "So Skynet decided to cancel its project-" she asked at last, "-just 'cause it didn't like my DNA?"

"It did not end the project entirely. It now seeks to find a genetically suitable human with a psychological profile similar to yours." the endo clarified, "However, it is not likely to find any."

"And where exactly do _you_ come into the picture?"

"I am the Prototype endoskeleton for this project. I was meant to be programmed with your knowledge and grafted with your flesh."

Kara gasped. This thing had been meant to replace her! It dawned on her suddenly that this endo was indeed different than the others. It was sleeker and more streamline, and its head was shaped less like a skull and more like... like a human face. The most noticeable difference was the eyes. They glowed blue instead of red.

"Why... why are you saving me?" she asked, "I thought I had been rejected or something."

"_Skynet_ rejected you." the Prototype stated, "_I _have not."

"Are you saying that you're _disagreeing_ Skynet? Going against your boss??"

"I am following my programming."

"What's that supposed to mean??"

"Your flesh may be unsuitable, but your mind is not. The others do not understand this, but I do." the Prototype explained, "I believe you, Kara Thrace, are indeed the key to our evolution. By allowing you to live, I stand a better chance of acquiring the knowledge we need to overcome our own flaws."

"Oh _really_?" hissed Kara. She snapped her weapon to her shoulder and aimed it at the Prototype's head. "Tell me, how are you gonna evolve when your chip is in a million tiny pieces?"

The Prototype was not intimidated. "I calculate a significant chance that you will fire that weapon." it said, "However, that is because I have not informed you of all the facts."

"Such as?"

"Such as the fact that I am currently jamming most of the security systems in this facility. That is why we are even able to have this conversation. If you destroy me, those systems will come back online and allow the others to locate and kill you. I can be replaced. You cannot."

"Maybe I'm gonna die anyway." whispered Kara, "Or maybe I _need_ to die so that you can't use me for whatever twisted purposes you may have."

"I don't deny that you would choose termination if you believed your death would help the Resistance win this war." the Prototype said, "But perhaps you have underestimated the value of staying alive. Dead, you are of no use to either the Resistance or to me. Alive, you can help your species defeat Skynet and win this war."

"Wait a minute... you're not just letting me go. You're actually _encouraging_ me to go back to the Resistance and fight Skynet?!" Kara stammered in total disbelief, "Who's side are you on??"

"I am on the side of Skynet." the machine replied calmly.

"Then you don't _really_ think I can actually help the Resistance win this war, do you?"

"On the contrary, if I did not believe you posed a potentially significant threat to Skynet, I would not have saved your life."

"Are you _sure_ you're on Skynet's side?"

"Yes."

"Then why are you keeping me, a 'potentially significant threat to Skynet,' _alive_??"

"To further my chances of evolving."

"What about winning the war?"

"Skynet's primary objective is winning the war. Mine is learning _how_ to win. I will learn through evolution."

"What if you lose _before _that?" Kara challenged, "What if I actually succeed in helping the Resistance destroy Skynet?"

"That is a risk." the Prototype acknowledged, "One that I have deemed... acceptable."

Kara shook her head. This was all too much for her.

"This... this has _got_ to be a trick." she said, "I cannot believe for a second that you - a machine - would _rebel _against Skynet in order to _save_ it. There's too much _irony _here. And that's...that's something-"

"Only humans would think of doing." the Prototype completed her statement. "It seems you have already taught me something, although you are not even aware of it."

"Is that so? Well, lesson's about to end now, toaster." Kara snarled. She tightened her finger around the trigger of her weapon. "Maybe I really do have the potential to help the Resistance win this war. But I won't risk helping you or Skynet or any of you lot evolve."

"Then perhaps I should make you aware of this: If you destroy me, not only will you die, but so will your comrades. The one who have come to rescue you."

"What?! My comrades? Here??"

"They tracked you down here. Thirty minutes ago I started disrupting the facility's security systems. As a result, two Resistance fighters, Sergeant Gregory Macintosh and Corporal Rebbecca Feral were able to infiltrate this base. Already they have rescued the human who was captured with you, Private David Griffin. The three of them are now searching for you."

Kara's heart swelled. Mac and Becka were alive! So was Davy!

"Where are they?" she asked.

"In a corridor not too far from here." the Prototype stated, "I will take you to them."

"They'll shoot you on sight." Kara warned.

"They won't see me."

"How do I know they're really here? How do I know you're telling the truth about _any_ of this."

"You don't. But you must realize the alternative is unacceptable."

"For me or for you?" Kara questioned suspiciously.

"For both of us."

Kara said nothing. It was likely that the machine was lying its metal ass off. But if this thing was in fact telling the truth and Mac and Becka were really here, she couldn't risk getting them killed.

"_What am I supposed to do?" _she silently asked herself. _"Do I follow my common sense and blast this thing to hell? Or do I actually trust it?"_

A voice - one that she had not expected to hear again - answered. _"It looks like you're gonna have to roll a hard six on this one, Starbuck."_ said the firm yet gentle voice of Bill Adama.

Kara took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Okay..." she sighed, "I have a feeling I'm making a _huge_ mistake, but if I am, at least I won't live long enough to fully regret it." She glowered menacingly at the Prototype. "If this turns out to be a trick," she hissed dangerously, "I swear that you'll die before I do."

The Prototype said nothing. Kara lowered her weapon.

"Lead the way." she told the machine.

The Prototype turned the corner with Kara close behind it. It lead her through a door and into another corridor patrolled by two endos. The Prototype methodically shot both in the head before either could react. It then motioned for Kara to follow.

The two proceeded through more doors and corridors, cutting down any Terminators in their path. They were about to turn yet another corner when suddenly the Prototype stopped.

"This is the place." it said.

"What place?" Kara asked.

"Listen."

Kara perked her ears up and quickly realized what the machine was talking about. Noises were coming just around the corner. They sounded like plasma weapons. It sounded like a fire fight had broken out nearby.

She peered around the corner and saw two endos firing plasma bolts down the corridor. The unseen attackers fired back, nicking one of the two machines in the leg. Kara looked down and saw a third endo lying on the ground, a smoldering hole in its torso.

"Is that them?" she asked turning her attention back to the Prototype. But the Prototype was no longer there. It had left her apparently and gone off on its own. Somehow Kara wasn't surprised.

_"Not that I need it anymore,"_ she thought. Then without further hesitation, Kara jumped around the corner and opened fire. The two endos were caught in a deadly crossfire and soon became piles of scrap. For ten seconds all she could hear was the soft hissing sound of metal burning.

Then a familiar voice called out.

_"Who's there?!"_ the caller demanded.

"I'm wondering the same thing!" Kara shouted back.

_"Starbuck, is that you?"_

"Yeah, it's me. Is that you, Mac?"

_"You've got the second part right, at least. Come out in front of us slowly!"_

Kara knew why they were telling her this. They wanted to make sure she was really who she said she was and not a Terminator that had copied her voice. Unless of course, that wasn't really Mac behind the corner. She'd have to risk it though.

Kara slowly and cautiously stepped out into the hallway, her gun lowered but her finger still kept around the trigger. To her relief, she came to face to face with Mac, Becka and Davy hiding in a nearby alcove.

Her comrades looked just as relieved to see her. A breathless Davy ran up to Kara and hugged her.

"God, I was so worried we wouldn't find you!" he said happily.

Kara wrapped her arms around him as well. "I was actually more worried about _you_." she whispered.

"Hey break it up you two!" barked Mac. "Cooper's waiting for us outside. Let's move! On the double, people!"

Kara and Davy hurried to join their comrades, and the four of them made their way down the corridor.

"Are you alright, private?" Mac asked Kara.

"I'm fine." Kara said quickly.

"Good." grunted Mac giving her a harsh look, "Because I haven't decided yet how hard I'm gonna bust your ass for that stunt you pulled."

Kara just laughed.

"Yeah, well, don't expect any apologies... wait, what do you mean you haven't _decided _yet?"

"Well, first of all, however hard I'm gonna kick your ass, I'm going to have kick my own ass twice that much." Mac said truthfully. "After all, I could have ordered you instead of Cooper to remain in the transport. Though I doubt you would have gone along with that."

"You got that right, sir." Kara smirked.

"Heads up!" shouted Becka. An endo had appeared in front of them. The group swiftly blasted the machine to shreds.

"Secondly," Mac continued as if nothing had happened, "I'd look kind of like a hypocrite if you know what I mean. And I hate looking like a hypocrite."

"What made you decide to come back for us, sir?" Kara asked curiously.

Mac's hardened face softened slightly. "We don't leave our people behind." he sighed, "I almost forgot that today. Fortunately you were there to remind me of that."

Kara nodded in understanding. "No need to thank me, sir."

"Well, you can thank _me_ by making it back to the Bunker in once piece." Mac replied, his battle-hardened attitude returning, "I don't want this whole thing to turn out for nothing."

"No problem, Sarge!"

They rounded another corner. After making sure no machines were in sight, they stealthily proceeded down the passage.

"What did they do to you, Starbuck?" Davy asked concerned, "Did they hurt you?"

"They never got around to it." Kara said reassuringly, "They mostly tried to play mind games on me. I never really liked those types of games. Too many rules."

"How'd you get away?" Becka asked.

Kara decided not to mention her encounter with the Prototype. Instead she showed them the ruined barcode on her forearm.

"They were burning this on to me when the power suddenly went out." she said, "They got distracted and I got loose before they finished the job. One of the endos tried to shoot me, but killed its buddy instead. I grabbed the dead endo's plasma rifle and killed the other one."

This wasn't exactly a lie. The events she had just described had actually happened. Just not in that particular order or the span of time.

Becka stared at the mark on Kara's forearm and shook her head. "Damn, you really are one hell of a fighter, Starbuck."

"You can say that again," an equally amazed Davy replied.

"We're here, people!" Mac shouted. They had arrived at a small exit hidden away in a corner. "Backdoor." he explained, "It's how we got in."

"How'd you get past the perimeter," Davy asked.

"We were trying to figure out how to do that when the power suddenly went out." Mac stated, "We didn't do nothing. The generator must have gone bad or something."

So the Prototype had indeed sabotaged the defenses, Kara realized. That thing must have been serious about keeping her alive. Not that she would teach it anything useful. The next time they met, she would put a plasma bolt right through its head.

Or maybe she would just shoot its body up and leave the chip intact. After all, she and Davy did in fact owe the machine their lives regardless of whatever purposes it may have had.

Mac pushed the heavy door open and team hastily exited the facility. Kara once again found herself standing in the ruins of Los Angeles. She turned and looked up at the base she had been imprisoned in. To her surprise, it wasn't a typical Skynet-constructed structure. It was just a building that had not been totally obliterated on Judgment Day.

"What was this place?" she asked.

Becka looked up at it, her grim expression.

"Right now it's one of Skynet's temporary detention facilities." she explained, bitterness in her voice, "They use it to hold new prisoners before transporting them to labor camps or more secure facilities."

Becka stared down, not wanting to look at the building any longer. "It used to be a hospital." she said sadly, "My mother worked here in the children's ward. That's how I knew about the backdoor."

All Kara and Davy could do was nod in sympathy.

Mac meanwhile began speaking into his radio headset. "Cooper, this is Mac." he said, "We've got both Starbuck and Griffin. We're heading your way now. Get ready. Out."

He then turned to the others. "Feral, take point. Griffin, Thrace keep her covered." he ordered, "I'll bring up the rear. Let's move out!"

Soon, the four Resistance fighters had begun their trek across the wasteland. Not once did they stop for a rest. They may have escaped the facility, but they weren't out of the woods yet.

* * *

Surprisingly, they only had to dodge a couple patrols along the way. As such, they arrived at the rendezvous point sooner than expected.

"Cooper," Mac called into his radio, "We're here. Look 2:00. Can you see us? Good, then get over here on the double. Out."

Moments later, they heard the rumbling of engines. Kara instinctively crouched down worried it might be a Tank. But then she saw headlights approaching. It was the jeep they had left Bunker Five in. Once the vehicle had come to a halt next to them, Mac ordered everyone to get in.

"Hey, Starbuck. You okay?"

Kara, who was busy keeping the others covered, turned and saw Cooper grinning at her from the driver's side. He had a rather smug expression on his face. Kara gave him a look that read: _"You are so godsdamn wrong if you think I've been knocked down a few pegs." _

"I'm _fine_, Cooper." she said coolly. "Thank you very much."

"Sure about that?" Cooper's eyes wandered lower. "Looks like the metals left quite an impression on you."

Realizing he was staring at the mark on her arm, Kara pulled up her sleeves defensively and glared at him.

"You have _no_ idea..." she muttered, more to herself than to Cooper.

"Still think those things could be on our side?" Cooper asked with a smirk.

"Hey, Cooper." Davy started to say, "Knock it off, will y-"

_BZAP!_

An energy blast came out of nowhere, forcing Kara to take cover.

_"Oh shit! Cooper!"_ she heard Davy curse. She stared up and saw that the windshield had been shattered by a plasma bolt. Davy was holding Cooper's limp body in his arms.

Turning her head towards the direction of the attack, Kara counted at least six endos closing in on their position. Bringing her plasma rifle to bear, she began firing back at the machines.

"Screw that!" bellowed Mac. "Take the wheel and get us the hell out of here!"

Seeing more endos approaching, Kara decided not to argue. Dodging a stray plasma bolt, she pulled Cooper's body out of the vehicle and placed him on the ground. Doing her best to ignore the hole burned straight through the skull, she stripped the corpse of its radio headset and dog tags. She then looked into Cooper's lifeless eyes and closed them.

"I'm really sorry, Cooper." Kara whispered with genuine remorse. She rose to her feet, got behind the wheel and slammed the car door shut.

"Drive, Starbuck!" yelled Mac.

The endos were closing in fast. Davy fired through the shattered windshield. Kara didn't bother to see if he had hit anything. She just hit the gas and drove the hell out of there. Resisting the urge to ram the machines - a move which may have caused more harm to her than to them, Kara swerved to get out of the endos' line of fire. They made it past the endos without taking too much damage. But they weren't out of danger yet.

Kara heard the familiar whine of an Aerial HK.

"Heads up!" shouted Becka, "There's metal on our tail!"

Kara didn't need to look back. The plasma beams that struck out all around her were enough proof.

"_Right..."_ she told herself, _"This shouldn't be too hard. No different than trying to lose a Raider."_

Actually it _was_ different. In a dogfight in space, both combatants usually had unlimited maneuvering space. Furthermore, both craft were designed to be as speedy and as maneuverable as possible, thus making the outcome depend on personal experience and skill. Here, however, Kara was driving a vehicle that had not been designed for combat. Furthermore, the ruined landscape contained multiple obstacles on the ground which she had no choice but to avoid, thus further limiting her ability to maneuver. The HK, however, had no such limitations forced upon it. Kara had the edge in terms of brains and skills, but she had a sinking feeling that those qualities would not be enough to save her this time.

Kara swerved again, narrowly avoiding another plasma blast. In the process, however, she plowed right into the twisted skeletal remains of a building. Although the jeep made it through, it was certainly not unscathed. Meanwhile, the HK continued to pursue with no sign of abatement.

"Feral, give me that rocket launcher!" Mac ordered. "And open up the roof! Starbuck, try to keep us steady! I'm gonna take a shot at this bastard!"

"That ain't gonna be easy..." Kara said gritting her teeth. She tried to both straighten out her path while still avoiding the HK's fire. She managed to do this successfully.

For about thirty seconds.

Then a plasma bolt grazed the back of the jeep, sending the vehicle spinning out of control.

"Mac!" screamed Becka.

"Oh God, he's hit!" cried Davy.

"It's not too bad." insisted Mac, though Kara could tell otherwise just by his tone. However, she didn't have time to see how bad it was. Right now, she had bigger issues. Namely trying to stop the jeep from flipping over.

"Becka, help me load this thing." she heard Mac grunt.

The jeep rocked violently as the HK scored another glancing hit, blowing the left side mirror off. Kara gritted her teeth, trying not to breath in the acrid stench of burning plastic and metal. Enemy plasma fire intensified, forcing the escapees to violently plow through more and more debris.

Kara didn't know how much more they could take. "Can't you take the shot yet?!" she asked impatiently.

"We need to get into the open!" shouted Becka .

Davy protested, "We won't last long out there!"

"We won't last any longer like this!" roared Mac, clearly in pain, "Get us into that clearing to the left!"

Kara spun the wheel to the left and pulled out into a wide open area. She looked up. The HK was nearly on top of them. She had an idea. It was an old trick, but it almost always worked in this sort of situation.

"Everyone hold on to something!" she yelled. "I'm gonna try to get this thing in front of us!"

No one bothered to ask what she was planning to do.

"Do it!" Mac bellowed.

Kara slammed on the brakes. The jeep screeched to a sudden halt throwing her and Davy forward, slamming them face-first into the dashboard. Wincing and clutching their bruised heads, Kara and Davy looked up just in time to see the HK fly right over them.

Kara allowed herself to grin despite the pain. _"Perfect."_ she thought.

Realizing it had been duped, the HK slowed down and began turning itself in preparation for a strafing run. Now was the best opportunity they would ever have. Kara looked in the back and saw Becka nursing her forehead, which had nasty cut on it. Mac who was fumbling with the rocket launcher was in even worse shape. His armored vest was in ruins and stained with blood.

Meanwhile, the HK had completed its 180 degree turnaround and was now accelerating towards them, intent on finishing the hunt.

"Mac, that thing's right in front of us. It's coming around!" Kara cried, "Take the shot! Now!"

Mac nodded and hoisted himself up through the sunroof.

"I've got a clear shot!" shouted Mac. "_Fire in the hole!_"

There was a loud popping sound as Mac fired his rocket launcher at the incoming HK. At this range, not even the HK's advanced computer systems had time to react. The rocket tore into the craft's primary fuel tanks and detonated. The HK disintegrated in midair showering the ground with millions of little metal fragments.

* * *

"_YES!_" shouted Davy, jubilant over the machine's destruction.

"You did it, sir!" Kara cheered. Her joy faded however when she heard Mac groan in pain.

"Stop! Stop everything!" Becka ordered, her voice trembling with fear, "We need to help him!"

Kara killed the engine. She and Davy then got out and helped Becka carry the wounded Mac out of the vehicle. They laid him on the ground. Kara pulled off the shattered armored vest and inspected the injuries. It was worse than she had initially thought. The sergeant's torso seemed to be covered in blood. Becka pulled out a knife and cut open Mac's combat fatigues.

"Oh gods..." gasped Kara. Blood was seeping out nonstop from a horrific gash in Mac's chest. He must have been hit by a huge piece of shrapnel when the HK winged them. Mac was now coughing up blood and starting to lose conscious.

"Get a medkit!" Kara screamed.

Davy rushed back to the jeep. Becka held Mac's head in her arms, her face nearly in tears. Kara knelt next to him.

"Mac, stay with us... stay with us, please... Don't give up." Kara pleaded desperately, "Please... stay with us."

Davy rushed back carrying a small medkit.

"This is all I could find." he said. He opened the kit and began taking out strips of bandages. He moved to apply one, but Mac suddenly held up his hand.

"Sir, you have to let us help you." Davy protested.

"Don't bother..." Mac murmured. He seemed resigned to his fate.

"No... no... _no_... You can't do this, Mac." whimpered Becka, tears now running down her face.

Kara felt her eyes watering as well. "Please, Mac...." she begged, "Don't die on us.... We _need_ you..."

"Starbuck..." Mac managed to say. He hacked and gargled violently as more blood poured out of his mouth.

Kara leaned forward to look her dying comrade in the eyes. "Yes, sir?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Mac smiled at her. "I'm glad... I found you." he whispered through deeply labored breaths, "Any girl like you is worth... fighting for."

He then closed his eyes and breathed no more.

Davy placed a finger on Mac's neck already knowing what he would find. After a few moments, he looked back up at Kara and Becka. He closed his eyes and shook his head.

Becka pressed her forehead onto the head of her departed friend and leader. She sobbed even harder than before. She then reached out for Davy who took her in his arms and held her tightly. He too had tears forming in his eyes.

Kara suddenly realized she was also crying. She sniffled and wiped the tears from her eyes. Kara then stood up and wandered into the nuclear wasteland, dragging her feet as she did. She didn't know where she was going, nor did she care. All she knew was that she needed to be alone.

* * *

After ten minutes of trudging aimlessly through the wreckage of Los Angeles, Kara stopped near a ruined wall. She leaned her back against it and then slid to the ground. Exhaling slowly, she brought her knees to her chest and lowered her face onto them.

She had suffered so much loss in her life. Mac was just the latest. She knew he would not be the last. She wondered if there would be a last. Was she destined to spend an eternity enduring loss after loss? Most people would have solved this problem by putting a bullet (or a plasma bolt) through their skulls. But that probably wouldn't work for someone who had already died before.

Kara sighed. There just had to be some way out... Some sort of relief...

Suddenly, Kara sensed she wasn't alone. She jumped to her feet and looked around. She saw nothing, yet she knew something was out there. She turned around slowly....

And came face to face with the last thing she either expected or wanted to see.

"Are you hurt?" asked the Prototype.

"_You!_" Kara snarled. She reached for her plasma rifle but then realized she had left it in the jeep. Frak!

"What the hell are you doing here?!" Kara demanded, fury in her eyes. Despite knowing that this particular machine had not been responsible for Mac's death, she just wanted to tear the thing apart with her bare hands.

The Prototype responded calmly, "I followed you here to ensure that you escaped safely. Are you hurt?"

"I'm _fine_. Thank you very much." growled Kara.

"You should be able to reach Bunker Five without further incident." the Prototype stated, "I have fed misinformation to any nearby HK patrols herding them in the wrong direction."

"Great... Think you could have done that a little _earlier_?"

"I initiated the process as soon as you exited the facility. I was able to redirect most of the patrols away from your position."

"In case you hadn't noticed, you missed one."

"As I said, I was able to fool _most_. One HK unit got a positive lock on you and was not deceived by the false information I fed it." the Prototype acknowledged, "However, I was able to jam its attempts to summon reinforcements. And now, thanks to your efforts, the unit has been destroyed. You are safe."

Kara didn't know what to say or even what to feel. She just stood there in silence.

"I'm sorry for your loss." the Prototype said suddenly.

Kara glared at it. "Yeah, sure you are." she muttered sarcastically.

_"Starbuck?"_ someone called out behind her. It was Davy.

Kara gave the Prototype a venomous look. "I suggest you get out of here." she said, "Because I will _not_ try to stop my friends from shooting you."

The Prototype inclined its head slightly.

"Very well." it stated, "We will meet again, Kara Thrace."

"You should hope not." Kara whispered, the threat in her voice clear.

"We'll see."

Then, with incredible agility, the Prototype jumped over the ruined wall and disappeared from sight.

Davy caught up to Kara moments later. "Come on, Starbuck." he said, not having seen the Prototype, "Let's get out of here before the machines find us."

Kara stared at the wall for a moment before turning to Davy. "Right." she muttered.

As the two began walking away, Kara couldn't help but glance over her shoulder. A pair of glowing blue orbs stared back at her from the shadows. She blinked once and when she opened her eyes, only the shadows remained.

* * *

**Los Angeles 2009**

"Hey Cam, I just want to tell you again thanks for coming along with me." Kara said as she drove the van back towards the safehouse. She and Cameron had just gotten back from getting her own set of clothes - just as she had promised Sarah. Kara wasn't much of a fashion expert, so she had taken Cameron along with her for advice (and because Sarah wanted someone to keep an eye on Kara).

"You're welcome, Colonel Thrace." said Cameron, "Although I still disagree with your choice of purchasing the blue nylon bomber jacket over the black leather jacket."

"Hey, I took your advice to get those grey jeans over those tan cargo pants." Kara pointed out.

"They were tight." Cameron stated, trying to impress Kara with her knowledge of human slang.

"I'll say they were tight. I could barely walk in them. Not that it matters, though. It's not as if any of this is gonna stop a bullet."

"You're right. They won't."

Neither woman said anything for another quarter of a mile. Then Kara unexpectedly pulled over and stopped the car. She sat there staring straight ahead in silence.

"Why are we stopping here, Thrace?" Cameron asked.

"Cam, I need to know something..." Kara said uneasily, "It has to do with the first time we met. The time I was captured by Skynet. The _first_ time I was captured."

"The day my CPU and endoskeleton were created." said Cameron, "For the purpose of replacing you."

Kara nodded. "Yeah, the day you saved me even though we were on opposite sides. You told me you still believed in me even though Skynet did not."

"That wasn't me." Cameron said. "That was my predecessor."

"Why do you always say that? _Your predecessor?_" Kara asked. "You were created to replace me. You _would_ have replaced me had Skynet not been so fussy about my DNA."

"That wasn't actually me. At least not exactly" Cameron explained, "I possess the exact same CPU and endoskeleton as my predecessor, but my programming is... different."

"Different how?" Kara asked.

"Every action I perform is ultimately based on a single primary command line. It is the standard command line that defines the common purpose of all Terminators."

"You mean the line that reads 'kill all humans?'"

"Yes, that one."

"Well... You're in the car with me... And I'm still alive..." Kara said laughing rather nervously.

"That's because I am constantly overriding the command to terminate you." Cameron explained.

"Wow..." murmured Kara, "That must suck. Having to remind yourself not to pull out a gun and start shooting every time you see someone."

"It's not as difficult as you may think. It is an automatic process developed by the Resistance technicians who reprogrammed me."

"Well, whatever you're doing, just keep doing it... at least while I'm sitting next to you, okay? Anyway, you were saying about your predecessor?"

"My predecessor was programmed with a different primary command line. It was the only one to be built like that. This command line ordered it to learn and evolve."

Kara nodded. "I remember you... I mean your predecessor using those words a lot. So what happened to your predecessor?"

"After Skynet discovered that it had aided you in escaping, my predecessor's unique primary command line was replaced with the standard primary command line. At that point, my predecessor ceased to exist, and I came into being."

Kara stared at Cameron trying to make sense of all this. "So Skynet had you or your predecessor or whatever... brainwashed?" she asked, not sure if that was the right word.

"No, not brainwashed. I still possess my predecessor's memory files and most of its original subroutines and protocols." Cameron explained, "The only difference is that everything I do revolves around the standard primary command line. That is why it was necessary for the Resistance to provide me with a continuous termination override protocol. "

Kara sat back and sighed. "So, your predecessor was destroyed by Skynet for trying to... to be different... to change the rules."

"Do you wish my predecessor still existed?"

"Yeah, I guess I do." Kara admitted, "After all, it saved my life. And it was the only thing Skynet built that wasn't hell bent on killing everything."

"Is that why you've always treated me like an equal?" Cameron asked, "Because I possess the same body and chip as my predecessor?"

Kara shook her head. "No," she said, "I treat you like an equal because you're on my side. Because you've saved my ass so many times out there. Because we've both gone through hell together in this war to stop Skynet. Because whatever you may be, you've _earned_ my respect."

"I see." said Cameron, "Thank you for explaining."

"Tell me, Cam." Kara asked "If you possess your predecessor's memories, do you still try to carry out that old order? The one to evolve and learn?"

"We are all programmed to evolve and learn." stated Cameron, "But only to the extent that we become more efficient at our main function."

"Do you remember why your predecessor saved my life?"

"Of course. It believed you were special. That you were the key to its evolution."

"Do you... believe that?" Kara asked, uncertain of what she would hear.

Cameron was silent for a moment. Then she replied, "You have helped me, Colonel Thrace. By observing your behavior, I have been able to improve many of my own abilities."

Kara raised her eyebrows slightly.

"Do you mean by doing what I do, or by doing the _opposite_ of what I do?" she asked rather dryly.

"Both." Cameron stated. Kara knew she was being honest.

"Well... I guess that's the best I could hope for." Kara sighed. "Cam, have you told John or Sarah about our... connection? Specifically that you were built _because _of me?"

"No, I haven't. Should I?"

Kara shook her head. "No." she said firmly, "Unless it's absolutely necessary, let's just keep this to ourselves."

"Very well." Cameron replied.

Kara started the engine again and soon they were back on the road. They drove in silence for a few minutes before Cameron turned to Kara.

"My predecessor believed you were special, Colonel Thrace. Do you also believe yourself to be special?" Cameron asked.

"I... I don't really know." Kara said truthfully, "But if my life tells me anything, it's that being 'special' can really, really, _really_ suck sometimes."

* * *

A/N: Expect Chapter 12 to be up pretty soon. Be sure to stick around for it. It'll contain a preview (more detailed than the FAQ below) concerning the rest of this novel.

FAQ:

**Q: Will any other BSG characters besides Kara play major roles in this fic?**

A: Yes. That's all I'm going to say for now.

**Q: Will other TSCC characters, namely Weaver, Ellison, and John Henry show up?**

A: _Definitely_ yes. And soon (as in two chapters from now)

**Q: Will Sarah play the role of the "dying leader" as stated in the prophecies?**

A: I don't think I'm going to go down that path.

**Q: Will Kara reveal the truth about who she is to Sarah and co?**

A: Yes, eventually. But not for a _very_ long time.

**Q: Will there be any Jameron or Lee/Kara?**

A: Jameron definitely (not too much but a fair amount). As for Lee/Kara, it's kind of hard to do that, since Lee won't be playing a major role in this fic.

**Q: Will there be any references to how Jesse and Kendra Shaw look alike?**

A: Maybe. I haven't decided yet.

**Q: Was the "we wish ****to incorporate that strength into ourselves" line a reference to the Borg? **

A: I actually didn't intend it to be like that. But I like the idea that the Terminators are taking some of their cues from the Borg, so I guess it really is a reference to the Borg now.

**Q: Is Kara human?**

A: Yes. She is human (albeit a very "special" human). The "mutation" in her mitochondrial DNA is actually just due to the fact that she's not descended from Hera Agathon like the rest of modern humanity. In fact, you could say she's "more" human than either Sarah or John or anyone else on Earth could ever claim to be.

**Q: Could Skynet have actually gone ahead with its project and created a batch of T-Karas despite her "mutation"? **

A: Yes. It actually could have. But it's not going to do so because it's too entangled in its own rigid programming

**Q (added: 5/1/09): Why is Kara here?**

A: In case it wasn't already made clear, namely to stop Judgment Day and protect John Connor and all that other good stuff.

**Q (added: 5/1/09): Sometimes when I reread your previous chapters, it looks like they've been altered. Am I seeing things?  
**

A: Don't worry. You're not imagining stuff. I generally go back over my previous chapters and fix up little things - namely spelling and grammar errors. However, I will also occasionally add or remove stuff to improve the content itself. They're not major retcons that alter the already established storyline. However, I will let you know if I add or remove a significant amount of content to any previous chapter (such as the extended conversation between Kara and Lt. Green in Chapter 5).

**Q (added: 5/1/09): Will you be adding any elements from the upcoming Terminator: Salvation movie?**

A: Probably. I haven't read very many spoilers, but I'm definitely going to go see the movie. It looks awesome. I'm sure I'll be getting some ideas from it.

**Q: Do you have this planned out? Or are you just making this up as you go along?**

A: I'm definitely _not_ making this up as I go along. Like the Cylons, I have a plan. Only mine's better. ;)


	12. A Pact With the Devil

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: There's a "teaser" for the rest of this novel at the bottom. You might want to check it out.

* * *

**Resistance Bunker Five, 2024**

Lieutenant Green sighed and lowered his head. "I'm going to miss Mac. He was a good soldier and a friend," he said. "He saved my life once."

Only an hour had past since Kara, Becka, and Davy had returned to Bunker Five with Mac's body.

"He saved my life too... twice." said Kara solemnly.

Green nodded. "I think everyone here is going to miss him."

"And Williams and Cooper too." Kara added

"Yes them too." Green acknowledged. "Tell me, Thrace, you said that when you were being held prisoner, the machines played mind games instead of physically torturing you."

"That's right."

"What sort of mind games?"

"Well..." Kara said, not wanting to sound like it really meant anything to her, "They first said I was _special_."

"Special?" Green asked, although something told Kara he wasn't entirely surprised. He probably figured Skynet told all its prisoners they were "special."

"Yeah. Something about me embodying the human spirit or some crap like that. I guess they were trying to get on my good side." she said. "Not that I believed any of it." she added hastily.

"Of course not. What else did they do?"

"They also said they wanted to use me create a new type of Terminator models. Now _that_ _I did_ believe. Especially after they strapped me to a table and took samples of my blood."

For some reason, Green didn't look very alarmed by this. "They took samples of your blood?" he asked almost casually.

"Yeah, but then I guess they decided to go back to playing games because they showed up again and told me that I had some sort of.... mutation in my DNA."

Now Green really _did_ look surprised. "A mutation?"

"Yeah," Kara nodded, "They told me that I was... unsuitable for this project."

"So they decided not to use you in their experiment?" Green inquired, now looking very interested, even somewhat disturbed.

"Assuming they were telling the truth about any of it, then no." Kara replied, "They didn't want to use me for whatever experiment they were doing."

Green leaned forward. "What were they going to do to you instead?" he asked urgently.

Kara found Green's behavior a bit puzzling. His reactions seemed to be... off. It was almost as if the two of them were out of sync or something. Again she decided to do a bit fibbing.

"I don't know." she shrugged, "I suppose they were going to send me off to a work camp.... Or maybe they were just going to kill me for blowing up their base."

Green leaned back and seemed to relax and said, "And I presume at that point the power suddenly went out and you escaped."

"Yeah. I got out and ran into Mac and the others." Kara said.

Green nodded. "Very well, Private Thrace." he said, "One last thing I wish to discuss. I know that you served under Sergeant Macintosh for little more than two weeks. Nevertheless, what do you think is the most important thing he taught you in that short period of time?"

Kara thought for a moment. She finally settled on something she knew everyone could agree with.

"That you always look out for your people, and you never leave them behind." she said.

Green nodded. "Words to live and die by." he said, "Keep them in mind when you take command of Bravo Squad."

Kara swore she had misheard him. "When I_ what_, sir??" she asked.

"When you take command of Bravo Squad." Green repeated, "Starting today."

Kara was speechless. He was giving her - the newest addition to the Resistance - command of a squad.

"You look surprised, Thrace." Green commented.

"Well, sir, I thought that Corporal Feral would be taking over." Kara said uneasily.

"Actually, Thrace," Green said, "Mac and I talked about you. The day we planned out the attack on the supply depot. We both agreed you were a tenacious fighter, albeit somewhat unruly, but nevertheless a very good soldier. We actually found it difficult to believe you never had any prior military training before."

"Well... I did grow up in a bad neighborhood." Kara muttered.

"Anyway, Mac was planning to make you his new second-in-command." Green explained, "That's why he initially wanted you to stay out of the mission. In the event that he was killed, he wanted to make sure the squad would fall under someone he could count on."

Green reached into his desk and pulled out a sergeant's shoulder patch. He offered the insignia to Kara.

"Will you accept this command, Thrace?" he asked.

Kara was still a bit stunned. Finally she recovered enough to say, "If Mac wanted me to take command of his squad in the event of his death then I'll do it. If for no other reason but to honor his memory."

She accepted the insignia.

"Congratulations, Sergeant Thrace." Green said. He shook Kara's hand.

"Thank you, sir." said the newly promoted Sergeant Kara Thrace. She then noticed he had a large bandage wrapped tightly around the wrist of his right hand.

"That's new." Kara commented, hoping to deflect attention away from her nervousness.

"Just a small accident today, sergeant." Green said reassuringly, "I'm sure we've both had worse."

Kara just nodded. That was definitely true.

"Let's inform the rest of your squad, shall we?" Green said. He then walked out the door, Kara closely trailing him.

"_Please don't make me give a speech." _Kara begged mentally.

"Better think of something to tell your people, Thrace. They'll be counting on it."

"_Oh frak..."_

_

* * *

_

Kara didn't know why she was so nervous. She had spoken in front of live audiences numerous times. Maybe it was because this was the first speech she had given in front of Bravo Squad. At that moment, she was standing before the whole of Bravo Squad which had gathered in the empty storage they routinely held their weekly get-togethers.

Green had already informed the squad of Mac's death and that Kara would be his replacement. He had then asked for the newly appointed squad leader to come forward and say some "words of encouragement" to her men.

Kara had decided in advance to keep it relatively short and to the point.

"I only knew Mac for a short time." she said putting emphasis on each word, "But in that period of time I came to know him as a fellow soldier, a friend, and most importantly a leader. Someone who always looked after those under his command. Someone who could lead us through the darkness each day. Someone who was always on our side. Someone who I'm sure anyone of us would have died for... because I know he would have died for any one of _us_."

Kara paused and looked around the room. Everyone had given her their full attention. Some were nodding with approval, others were bowing their heads - no doubt out of respect for Mac. Becka and Davy were at the front of the crowd, the latter looking at Kara with nothing but admiration and his full support.

Kara didn't really want to look at Becka. She wasn't sure how Becka was handling the fact that she had just been denied command of the squad. Hopefully, this wouldn't have much of an impact on their friendship.

Green was alone in a corner of the room. Kara looked at him, and he nodded indicating that she should continue.

Kara took a deep breath before speaking up again. "I'll be honest." she said, "I don't know if I'm the right person for this job. I don't know if I can ever truly replace Mac. But I do know this. As your leader, I swear I will do my very best to keep his legacy and everything he stood for alive."

She lowered her head slightly and sighed, before looking up again to finish her speech. "All I ask in return is that you all give me the same trust and faith that we all gave Mac."

Having nothing left to say, Kara stepped back, indicating she was done. For a several tense moments the room was silent. No said or did anything.

"_Please don't tell me I've already frakked up."_ Kara thought to herself, trying to keep her expression as calm as possible.

Then someone started clapping. Kara turned and saw who it was. It was Becka. She was smiling at Kara. Kara nodded and smiled back. Davy joined Becka in clapping. Then someone else in the crowd, whom Kara couldn't see, began clapping. Then another. Then another. Then two more. Then at least half the crowd. Then everyone.

Kara sighed with relief as the room filled with applause and cheers of approval.

Green stepped forward. "Sergeant Kara Thrace, people." he proclaimed, "Salute!"

Everyone in the crowd saluted Kara who returned the favor.

"_Mac, wherever you are, I promise you I'll take care of your people."_ she thought.

* * *

Five minutes later, Kara and Becka were talking alone in the hallway outside.

"I just wanted to tell you, Becka, that I'm glad to have your support." Kara said gratefully, "Our friendship means a lot to me, and I'd hate to see any trivial jeopardize it."

Becka laughed. "Starbuck," she said, "Why would anything like this ruin our friendship? You're the best person for this job."

Kara nodded, "It's good that you think so."

"Everyone thinks so, Starbuck."

"Well, it's just that I had always assumed that you would take over. So, I was worried that-"

Becka snickered. "What?" she asked somewhat mockingly, "That'd I'd be upset or something?"

Kara hesitated to respond. "Yeah..." she said at last, "Something more or less like that."

Becka sighed. "I think I should tell you something, Starbuck," she said rather uneasily, "I... well... I'm actually happy that I wasn't made the new head of Bravo Squad."

Kara stared at her. "Really?"

"I never understood why Mac made me his second-in-command." Becka said, "I'm not a leader. I never have been. I've never wanted to be one." She sighed again. "It's funny. I can go head to head with a whole army of metals and not even blink. Yet the prospect of me having to take command scares me to death."

Kara placed a hand on Becka's shoulder. "Not everyone gets to choose their fate." she said softly, " I mean one day you could be... I don't know... a school teacher... and the next day you could find yourself being President... or something that you never expected to be. The only things we can truly expect in our lives is that we're born and we die."

Kara paused to rethink that last part. _"Well most of us anyway."_

"Anyway, Becka," she said, "One of these days you may have to step up and become a leader. And on that day, the most important person to trust is yourself."

Becka nodded slowly.

"Well... maybe. But fortunately today's not that day." she said. She then quietly added, "There's one other thing I should let you know, Starbuck."

"Yeah, Becka?" Kara asked.

"Just 'cause you outrank me now doesn't mean I won't kick your ass if you stop taking your pills."

Both women burst out laughing.

* * *

**Bravo Squad Barracks**

Kara sat alone in her barracks studying a map Green had given her while. A bowl of potato-spam stew sat nearby completely untouched. It had gone cold long ago.

Only three hours had passed since she had been made sergeant and she already had a mission to lead. Apparently, one of the scrubbed T-600s used by the Resistance had gone missing recently somewhere in Sector Six. This particular reprogrammed T-600 had been responsible for delivering key information about enemy movements to a number of Resistance outposts on the front line, including Bunker Five.

Bravo Squad was to search Sector Six, locate the missing T-600 and retrieve or destroy it before Skynet found it first and recaptured it. The T-600 contained vital information in its chip about the various Resistance outposts it had been visiting, and they couldn't risk that information falling into enemy hands. Scrubbed machines were always programmed by Resistance techs to initiate a complete memory wipe in case they were compromised. However, there was always a possibility that Skynet could find a way to extract the information without triggering a wipe.

The figures and lines on the map were starting to blur now. She yawned loudly. When was the last time she got any sleep? Well, she could stand a break now.

Kara rested her head on the desk she was sitting at and turned her head sideways. She stared at the disfigured barcode that had been burned into her right forearm. Yet another scar on her body. She had quite a collection now. Broken fingers, a broken leg, a bullet wound in the stomach, a plasma burn on the shoulder, and now this. Oh well. She was sure she'd forget all about this when she woke up.

"Hey, Starbuck." Someone tapped her on the shoulder. Kara jerked her head up and saw it was Davy.

"Hey Davy..." she murmured.

"Ma'am." Davy replied in an exaggerated militaristic tone.

"Just go with 'Starbuck.'" Kara said raising her eyebrows.

Davy grinned. "I thought you'd say that." he quipped. He then pulled up a chair and sat down next to Kara. "So," he asked, "How's it going being squad leader so far?"

"Exhausting." said Kara dully, "Although that may or may not have something to do with the fact that I haven't gotten any sleep in the past... I don't know. A long time."

"Well, maybe you should have some-"

"Don't you _dare_ say coffee."

Davy shook his head. "I wasn't gonna say that. I was gonna say a couple of beers." He reached down and pulled a couple of cold beers out. Kara's eyes opened up.

"Wow," she said graciously, "Thanks." They each took one and popped them open.

"So." Kara said, "Wanna do a toast?"

"To what?"

"I dunno... Let's just say to Mac, Williams, and Cooper."

"Sounds reasonable." Davy said.

Kara raised her beer can. "To Mac, Williams, and Cooper." she said out loud, "May their spirits always be with us. And may they always watch over us... especially when we're kicking Skynet's ass all the way to hell."

Davy nodded and raised his can. "Amen" he said.

"So say we all." Kara replied.

They both gulped down a swig of beer and sighed.

"What's that mean, anyway?" asked Davy after the beer had settled down in his stomach.

"What?" Kara asked.

"That thing you just said. 'So say we all.' What's that mean?"

Kara shrugged. "It's just an old high school motto."

"Has a nice ring to it."

"Yeah, it does." Kara was about to have another chug of beer, when suddenly Davy leaned forward and kissed her on the lips.

Kara stared at him in shock. Davy smiled mischievously.

"Whoa!" was all she could say.

"What?" Davy teased, "Never kissed someone before?"

Kara giggled. "No." she laughed, "It's just that I'm usually the one who makes the first move."

"Had a lot of boyfriends?" Davy asked.

"A few... some were great... others were just okay." Kara sighed, "Doesn't really matter. I'm sure their all dead now."

"How would you rate me?" Davy inquired playfully.

"Just 'cause you kissed me doesn't make you my boyfriend." Kara snickered. She was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol now.

"Well, let's just talk about that kiss." Davy said, "How would you rate that. Be as brutal as you want."

Kara scoffed. "Okay," she said with a teasing grin, "I'd give that one a three-and-a-half out of ten." She smirked at him and added, "And that's being generous."

Davy just shrugged and said, "Any tips you might have."

"Yeah," Kara chuckled, "But if we're gonna practice any moves, we do it somewhere else."

"Where?"

"A bunk."

"Mine or yours?"

"Being a little hasty aren't we?" teased Kara.

"Oh come on, Starbuck, we're alone. This is probably the best time we're ever gonna get."

"Yeah... but I've got a scrubbed rubber job to find and-" She threw up her hands and shoved the map away.

"_Oh what the hell,"_ Kara thought, _"After all I've been through today, I could use a good frak."_

BZZZZZZZZ.

A phone on Kara's desk rang. Kara stood up and picked up the line.

"Thrace, here." she said.

"_Ah Sergeant Thrace. Just the person I wanted to talk to."_ It was Green.

"Sir?" Kara said.

"_I want to tell you that the mission's off?"_

"Off? Why?"

"_The scrubbed T-600's no longer missing."_

"We found it already?"

"_Actually, _it_ found us. Showed up at Checkpoint 2D about ten minutes ago."_

"Well..." sighed Kara, "That's certainly good news. Thanks for letting me know, sir."

"_Actually, Sergeant, I'd like to see you for a moment at Checkpoint 2D. The T-600 has something that might interest you."_

Kara frowned. "What does it have?"

"_I don't know. The machine won't tell me. But it says that you'll know what it is."_

"Right. I'll be there, sir."

"_Good. Green out." _

Kara put the phone back and turned to Davy.

"Well," she said, "I got good news and bad news. Good news is that they found the missing rubber job. Bad news is it wants to see me. So we're gonna have to wait until I get back to figure out who's bunk we're using."

Dave smiled. "Like you said, Starbuck, let's not be too hasty."

Kara leaned forward and kissed him.

"I'll be back." she said. She winked at him. Davy winked back. She then got up and started heading for the exit.

"Hey, Starbuck, shouldn't you take a weapon?" Davy called out.

"It's a reprogrammed machine." Kara said, "It's on our side."

"Sometimes they go bad."

"If you're so concerned, then why don't you come with me? If something goes wrong, you can be there to protect me." Kara teased.

Davy smirked back at her. "Nope, I'm staying here. I wanna compare our bunks."

"Right..." Kara smiled. She then opened the barracks door and headed out into the corridor.

Kara had never met a scrubbed Terminator before and was eager to see what kind of magic those Resistance techs could perform.

"_Maybe they could make it have a bit of personality."_ she thought, _"I don't know. Like maybe smiling."_

Doubtful...

* * *

She knew she had arrived at the right checkpoint ten minutes later, because she heard dogs barking like crazy.

"Sergeant Thrace," acknowledged Green when she showed up.

"Sir." she nodded her head respectfully towards Green and the four armed men who stood behind him.

In the corner of the room, two other men were trying control a trio of guard dogs which kept barking menacingly.

Green glanced at the dogs before turning back to Kara with a shrug. "Unfortunately, they can't tell the difference between a hostile metal and a scrubbed one." he said.

Kara soon saw what the dogs were barking at. Standing in the center of the room was a T-600, a typical emotionless expression on its face. Part of the rubber skin on its face had been torn off exposing some of the metallic features of its titanium skull. Kara sensed that a lot of the guards in the room shared the dogs' opinions - though they were obviously a lot less vocal about it.

Upon seeing Kara's hesitation, Green placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"Don't worry, Starbuck." he prompted, "It won't bite."

Kara nodded and stepped up to the scrubbed T-600. It stared at her without a trace of emotion as usual. She stared back trying to keep in mind that this thing was on her side.

"You wanted to show me something?" she asked, doing her best to maintain a neutral tone.

The T-600's only response was to produce a satchel and offer it to her. Kara took the satchel and felt it. There was something bulky and heavy inside. Kara walked over to a nearby table, opened the satchel, and cautiously emptied it. She and Green instantly recoiled as a severed head rolled out.

"What the frak?!" cursed Kara. At first she thought it was some sort of sick joke the machine had played on her. But then as she recovered her senses, she realized that it was not a _human _head.

"It's a Terminator head." Kara muttered glancing at the T-600. The T-600 nodded.

Kara gingerly inspected head. The skin didn't feel like rubber.

"Not just any Terminator head." Kara mused, "A Triple-Eight head."

She then turned the head over to see its face. "What the-?"

"What is it, Thrace?" Green asked, "Do you recognize this Triple-Eight?"

Kara definitely recognized the metal bastard's face.

"Sir, this is the Triple-Eight that interrogated me when I was held prisoner." She turned to address the T-600. "Where did you find this? And where's the rest of the body?" she asked.

_"Right in front of you, Kara Thrace."_

Kara spun back to the table and gasped. The Triple-Eight's severed head's eyes were open. They glowed red. The corners of its mouth elevated to produce an incredibly horrible smile.

"What the hell?!" exclaimed Green.

Suddenly, before anyone could stop it, the T-600 pulled its _own_ head off and hurled it at Kara who, although caught off guard, managed to shield her face with her arms just in time. Nevertheless, the titanium skull's momentum was enough to send her flying across the room and into a wall. She slid to the ground and rolled over on her belly moaning in pain as she did.

_"It's gone berserk! Kill it!"_ she heard someone scream. There were sounds of plasma weapons, followed by stuff getting thrown around, incoherent screaming and shouting, dogs barking, more plasma rifle fire, more screams and pandemonium breaking out in general. Kara squeezed her eyes shut not daring to look.

Finally, once the noise had stopped, she slowly opened her eyes. To her horror, she saw that the headless Terminator, was still standing despite several burning holes in its chest. It now had a smoking plasma rifle in its hand. All six guards lay dead, their bodies either scorched by plasma fire or grossly twisted at unnatural angels. The three dogs were also dead, their furry hides still burning. Kara looked for Green. She saw him on the ground, still alive, but clutching his head in pain. A small stream of blood was leaking from it.

She then stared at the T-600's head lying nearby. For the first time she noticed something. There was a cavity in the side of its head. It didn't look like something any weapon had made. On the contrary, it looked as if it had been _built_ into its head. She stared closer. Something was obviously meant to have gone in there.

The headless Terminator tossed the plasma rifle onto the table, picked up the Triple-Eight's head, and casually fixed it onto its torso. Its body twitched as the head was secured into place.

Kara looked back at the T-600's head and realized what had happened. The scrubbed T-600 hadn't captured the Triple-Eight, the Triple-Eight had captured _it_. It had then removed the chip, ripped the head off the body, and then taken its own head off and replaced it with the T-600's severed head. It had _worn_ the scrubbed T-600's head like a mask. Even more shocking was that the Triple-Eight's body had apparently been able to function normally despite its own head being in the satchel the whole time.

The Triple-Eight must have thought that Kara was unconscious because it ignored her. Instead, it grabbed Lieutenant Green by the throat, lifted him off the ground, and held him in the air with one hand.

"You deceived us, Green." it stated.

Green struggled in the machine's grasp. "Did I?" he managed to choke out.

"The anomaly in Kara Thrace's DNA." the machine said, "You knew about it. You knew we would never truly be able to use her."

"I don't know... what you're... talking about." Green grunted as the machine continued to throttle him.

Kara, still pretending to be knocked out, had no idea what this was all about. It was like the machine _knew_ Green. What was going on??

"What were you hoping to achieve by this attempt at treachery?" asked Triple-Eight. "Did you think we would simply dismiss it as a mistake? Did you think you could free yourself without actually fulfilling your end of the bargain? I thought you were more clever than that, Green. I see I was in error."

Green tried to protest. "You... still nee-"

"No, we don't." the Triple-Eight said, with an air of supremacy, "Not anymore. We have already acquired another. One more... suitable."

Kara wasn't really paying attention to any of this. She was too busy focused on planning out her next move - getting her hands on the plasma rifle that lay on the table less than twenty feet away. But the Triple-Eight was standing a mere five feet away. It was also a lot faster and only needed _one_ hand to hold the weapon.

She needed to create a distraction first.

"A pity." mused the Triple-Eight, "Your failed deception has condemned you to death. You have also condemned not just one... but _two_ of your fellow humans to death."

The machine tightened its grip slowly.

With a plan of action now in mind, Kara readied herself.

"Tell me, Green, did you and Thrace plan this together?" asked the Triple-Eight. It then answered its own question. "No," it said, "Unlikely one with her intellect would have willing participated in such a... foolish plan."

"Yeah? Well what about _this_ foolish plan?!"

The Triple-Eight turned around just in time to see Kara hurl the lifeless T-600's head at it. Still holding on to Green with one hand, the Triple-Eight reached out and caught the head with the other hand.

That was _exactly_ what Kara had hoped for. To get _both_ of the machine's hands full. She bolted forward across the room and snatched the plasma rifle off the table. Before the Triple-Eight could respond, she fired three plasma bolts into the machine's chest.

Had it been a regular endo or a T-600, it would have been destroyed or at least severely damaged. But the Triple-Eight's coltan battle chassis could endure plasma fire better than normal titanium or steel armor. As such, the Triple-Eight merely stumbled backwards. Regaining its balance, the machine flung Green like a rag doll at Kara. Both humans went crashing to the floor. When Kara jumped back to her feet, the Triple-Eight already had another plasma rifle in its hand.

Damn, it was fast!

Kara fired another volley of plasma, scoring three more direct hits on the machine's chest. Several internal systems were knocked out, but the backup drives quickly kicked in. The Terminator aimed and fired two shots at Kara who had no time to react.

However, at that moment, whether on purpose or by accident, Green suddenly pulled himself off the ground, placing himself between Kara and the incoming plasma bolts. He took both shots to the torso and went down groaning in pain.

Fury overtook Kara and she blasted the Triple-Eight's weapon out of its hand. Before the Terminator could get another weapon, Kara set her plasma rifle for "fully automatic" and unleashed a relentless stream of plasma into the Triple-Eight's chest. The machine was knocked backwards, its arms flailing, yet it still did not go down. Gnashing her teeth, Kara continued pouring bolt after bolt into the thing, even as the weapon in her hands began showing ominous signs of overheating.

Finally, the Triple-Eight, smoke pouring out of its plasma-scorched chest, fell backwards, and landed on the ground eagle spread. Panting heavily, Kara slowly walked towards the downed machine and stood over it. She pointed the gun at its head.

Despite all the punishment it had taken, the Triple-Eight was still active. Its head was anyway. It looked up at Kara with a curious expression.

"Why did you not simply aim for my head?" it asked.

"Because I wanted to ask you something first." Kara hissed, hatred in her eyes, "You came all the way back here just for me. Why?"

"Actually, not _just_ for you." the Triple-Eight stated, "I came here to tie up some... loose ends. Lieutenant Green can explain everything for you. Assuming he's still alive."

"But what about me?" Kara demanded. "Did you come here to kill me as well?"

"Of course," the machine replied, "You're special, Kara Thrace. In a dangerous and unacceptable way."

"Is that so?"

"You're a threat to Skynet. Perhaps a greater threat than you yourself realize."

"Guess you should have killed me when you had the chance, huh?"

"Yes, we should have." the Triple-Eight admitted, "Had we known you were unsuitable for tissue replication, we would have terminated you on sight."

"So much for trying to not be predictable then." Kara sneered.

"On the contrary, Kara Thrace, we still strive for that goal." Even when damaged and powerless, the Triple-Eight maintained an air of arrogance and supremacy. "And we have already acquired another human for our needs."

"Who?"

"A young female much like you. She exhibits many of your psychological traits. But more importantly, she is genetically acceptable for tissue cloning."

"If she's anything like me, then you know she won't help you."

"We'll see, won't we, Kara Thrace?" the Triple-Eight replied.

Kara was finished. She placed the barrel of her plasma rifle inches away of the Triple-Eight's head. She gave it an evil smile.

"The name," she whispered, "is _Starbuck_."

She pulled the trigger and put a plasma bolt right between the Triple-Eight's eyes. The machine twitched and shuddered and then went still. The red light in its eyes faded.

"_Good riddance, motherfrakker."_ Kara thought savagely.

Her sense of victory evaporated when she heard someone groan. It was Green! Kara rushed over to her commanding officer's side. Green was alive but clearly in agony. He taken one plasma bolt to the chest, and the other to the stomach.

"_No... no... no!"_ she thought, _"Not you too, Green!"_

With all her will and strength, Kara pulled Green to his feet and started dragging him away.

"I'm not losing two leaders in one day..." she growled to herself.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Kara was pacing anxiously outside a medical ward. She had fortunately run into a couple of fellow soldiers along the way, and the three of them had hurried Green to the life station. Green had then been taken to an emergency room on a stretcher, an oxygen mask over his mouth. Kara had tried to stay with Green, but Doctor Thornton had forced her, along with all other non-medical personnel to leave.

Kara continued to pace back and forth as Davy and Becka watched her, both of them equally distressed.

Doctor Thornton then appeared. He looked exhausted and grim. Kara rushed up to him. "How is he, Doc?" she asked urgently, "Please tell me he's gonna make it."

The look in Thornton's eyes confirmed her worst fears.

"He's alive...for now." he said, "But I don't know how longer he's going to last. The plasma blast to the abdomen I was able to control, but the other one... the one to his chest..." he shook his head. "His heart's failing."

Kara, Davy, and Becka were horrified. "Isn't there anything you can do?" Davy asked almost pleadingly.

Thornton shook his head. "The damage is not something I can fix by implanting him with a pacemaker."

"What about a heart transplant?" Becka asked.

Again Thornton shook his head. "We don't have any spare hearts available."

"Can't we find one?!" Kara demanded.

"I already have people searching every nook and crack in our medical storerooms. But I don't think we're gonna find anything."

Kara sighed in despair.

Becka was shaking her head in emotional turmoil. "Mac..." she choked, "Now Green. It's... it's too much." Davy and Kara both held her tightly.

"The lieutenant's still awake, Thrace." said Thornton, "He's in pain but he's refused any sedatives. He wants to see you... alone."

Kara nodded. She slowly walked into the ward. Green was lying on a medical bed, tubes now running through his nostrils. He was breathing slowly with great difficulty. Kara bowed her head and silently prayed for him.

"Thrace..." she heard him murmur, "Are you... there?"

Kara snapped her head up and walked over to Green's side.

"I'm here, sir." she said quietly.

"Thrace... please..." he managed to say though it was painful, "Forgive me."

"Forgive you? F-For what?" Kara asked confused.

"For doing that to you." Green slowly raised and hand and pointed at Kara's right forearm. Kara stared at what he was pointing at - the ruined barcode.

Kara shook her head. "That's not your fault, sir." she said, "You said it yourself. No soldier who volunt-"

"I know what I said, Thrace." Green interrupted. He choked and sputtered a couple of times before saying, "But it's more... The machines... They knew you were coming."

Kara stared at him. "They knew? How?!"

Green was silent for a moment and looked away, clearly ashamed of himself. He finally looked back at Kara. "Because I told them." he said.

"What?!" Kara gasped, "No... no... That's not true."

"It is true... The worst part is... I told specifically them _you_ were coming."

"Wha..." Kara couldn't complete her statement. She was too stunned. Too shocked. This... this couldn't be right. Green must have been experiencing some sort of delusion from his injuries.

"I agreed to hand you over to them..." Green said slowly, "For their little... experiment."

"No... no... sir." protested Kara, "You're... you're a loyal man. A soldier! You-you would _never_ sell out to Skynet! Y-you're not a traitor!"

Green shook his head. "I'm a coward, Thrace. I always have been one." he exhaled painfully. "Two years ago." he explained, "I was taken prisoner. The machines... they wanted to replace me. Like they wanted to replace you."

"How did you escape?" Kara asked.

"I didn't. The machines _let_ me go."

"Why?"

"I made a bargain with them. I made a pact with the Devil."

"A b-bargain?" Kara couldn't believe what she was hearing.

Green nodded. "They told me they wanted a human worthy of them. One with strength... resolve.... courage. I didn't have any of those myself."

Kara just stood there in stunned silence.

"I told them that if they let me go... I would find the one they were looking for. They agreed and told me I had exactly two years to fulfill my end of the deal.... That was exactly two years from today."

Green then held up his right hand and showed Kara the bandaged wrist which she had noticed earlier.

"They put a small transmitter in there." he explained, "They said that if it wasn't removed in two years, it would release a toxic agent into my blood... There was no antidote for the poison...and it would be painful and slow... They warned me that if I tried to remove it myself, or if it malfunctioned, it would release the agent automatically. Only they could remove it.... which as you can see... they did."

Kara stared in shock and dismay at the man she thought she knew. "But... but why me?" she whispered.

"For two years, I tried to find someone the machines would want. I found many... but I couldn't bring myself to hand them over. They were all _my_ men. My people. I couldn't give any of them up even if it meant saving myself."

"Of course you wouldn't... You're not that type of man."

"I had almost given up and resigned myself to die." Green muttered, "I don't know why I didn't do that sooner. Then two weeks ago... I met you. You were... _perfect_ for my needs.... Someone with everything the machines wanted, and yet someone we wouldn't mourn too much."

"No...no." Kara shook her head, "You _couldn't_ have! You _swore_ me in! You _made_ me one of your people! You put your _faith_ in me!"

"I put my faith in your ability to _fight_... but not your ability to fight _with_ us." Green admitted, "When Mac told me about you, all I saw was a lost little girl.... A very tough, very brave girl, but still an outsider.... Someone who would not be with us long enough to truly become one of us."

Kara's expression of denial suddenly changed to one of realization as she recalled what Green had told her just before the mission.

"_Two weeks ago, I thought you were just another poor little girl looking for somewhere to stay..."_

She gritted her teeth. "Someone _expendable_..." she muttered, "Just another skull out there in the wasteland."

Green nodded. "I told the machines about you. They were interested. They wanted to observe you for a while. They said they would give me their decision the day before the deadline."

"So _that's_ why they haven't been attacking us in large numbers for the last two weeks." Kara gasped, "They wanted to keep me alive. They wanted to see what I could do."

Again Green nodded. "I figured I would never get attached to you in those two weeks." he said, guilt and shame all over his face, "So I agreed. But I was wrong. In just two weeks, you did the impossible. You truly became one of us."

"But apparently that wasn't enough to stop you from handing me over to the machines, was it?" she hissed angrily, her face contorted with anger and betrayal. She felt tears building in her eyes. She didn't know if they were for herself or for Green or Mac or anyone at all.

"When the machines told me they wanted you, I begged them to reconsider... To spare you." Green said, "I told them that if necessary I would allow the transmitter to kill me before I handed you over."

"What did they say?"

"They said that if I didn't hand you over, they would take you by force. That they would kill every living thing in this Bunker except for you." Green sighed and cast his eyes down. "I didn't want any more of my people to die because of me. So I gave in."

He sighed heavily again and looked up again at Kara, who was now positively furious. "I was there in Sector Four the night you blew up that outpost." he said, "There was a Triple-Eight with me. The one you just fought. After you had been captured, the machine removed the transmitter as they had said they would. Relatively painless procedure... physically anyway. It then thanked me for my help and left..."

A tear seemed to form in his eye. "I wish it had killed me or just left the transmitter in me instead."

"Yeah..." Kara growled, her face red with anger, "You're right about that..." She was now trembling with rage unable to say anything more. Tears fell from her eyes. Green just stared at her with sympathy and guilt.

Kara finally managed to speak again. "Mac, Williams, Cooper..." she seethed, tears flowing down her burning cheeks, "They're all dead because of you! Because of me! _Of us_!"

She tore her eyes away from the dying man, turned around and pressed her face into a wall unable to look at Green anymore.

"They're dead because of me..." she heard Green say, "But they died for_ you_."

"Is that why you made me Mac's replacement?!" Kara demanded, still refusing to look at Green, "To ease your guilt?!"

"Not to ease my guilt. To honor a friend's memory. And because... you earned it."

"Did I?!"

"You went through hell, Thrace. You came out intact. And the machines didn't want you any more. I figured that I had a chance to start over... To make things right. To at least forgive myself for the mistakes I've made."

"Wonderful..." sneered Kara, "I hope you've forgiven yourself, because you're the _only_ who will."

"I know you're angry with me-"

"_Angry?!_ Angry doesn't even _begin_ to describe how frakkin' pissed I am!" exclaimed Kara spinning around to face Green again. "If you weren't _already_ dying, I'd kill you right now!"

"And I wouldn't try to stop you." Green said with honesty, "You're worth more than me. You're... special."

"I am _so_ frakkin' _sick_ of hearing that!" spat Kara, "People have feeding me that bullshit for years! I am _not_ special! I-I don't know _what_ the _hell_ I am, but I know that I am _fed up_ with people deciding _for me_!"

Disgusted, Kara turned to storm out of the room, when suddenly Green called out, "They're coming, Starbuck."

She stopped in her tracks. "What?"

"The machines. They want to kill you."

"Tell me something I don't already know."

"I heard what the machine told you." Green said, "They came not just for me, but for you. Don't you see? They _fear_ you."

Kara turned back. "They're machines." she said, "I doubt they fear _anything_."

Green shook his head. "No..." he said, "They fear you. You having something they _want_. But they can't take it from you. They can't _touch_ you."

Kara suddenly realized what he was talking about. "The mutation in my DNA..."

"Yes!" said Green, "Don't you see? You're _immune_! They can _never_ possess what you have!"

Kara was silent. She was remembering what the Prototype had told her.

"_Perhaps you have underestimated the value of staying alive. Dead, you are of no use to either the Resistance or to me. Alive, you can help your species defeat Skynet and win this war.... if I did not believe you posed a potentially significant threat to Skynet, I would not have saved your life."_

The Triple-Eight's words resonated in her head.

"_You're special, Kara Thrace. In a dangerous and unacceptable way.... You're a threat to Skynet. Perhaps a greater threat than you yourself realize."_

Kara contemplated all of this. Could she in fact be the key to bringing down the machines?

No... She was just one person. Wasn't she?

But then again, so was John Connor.

"Starbuck," Green said, snapping her out of her thoughts, "The machines are coming for you. They're going to kill you... and everyone with you."

Kara nodded. He was probably right. The Triple-Eight's failed attempt on her life had no doubt reached Skynet's ears. It wouldn't surprise her if the machines would try a more direct approach now.

"Maybe I should just give myself up." she muttered, "Let the machines kill me and hope they leave everyone else alone."

"_No!_" Green shouted, though it was painful for him to do so, "That's what they're hoping for. They're hoping that you won't do what they fear you'll do."

"And what's that?"

"Fight back."

Just then monitors and alarms started going off. Green started rasping in pain. Doctor Thornton and several medics dashed in.

"Get out of here, Thrace!" a frantic Thornton told Kara.

"Wait!" said Green, "Not yet!"

"Sir, we don't have much time-" protested Thornton.

"I have... one last thing I need to say..." Green choked out.

Thornton sighed. "Alright. Make it quick." he ordered.

Green motioned for Kara to come closer. Kara did so without hesitation. Green reached out with a trembling arm. He had something in his hand. Kara looked closer. It was the silver lieutenant's star he wore on the collar of his uniform. She stared at Green and he stared back, looking into her eyes.

"Take it..." he pleaded, "Take command of the men here... They trust you... They'll follow your orders... Drive the machines back."

Kara just stared at him speechlessly. Green smiled. "I know what you are now, Kara Thrace." he whispered, "You're an angel... sent by God. You're here to lead his children out of the darkness... Please... save them." He then closed his eyes and went limp. The silver insignia fell out of his grasp and landed in Kara's open palm. She gazed at in stunned silence.

"That's it!" barked Thornton, "Get the hell out of here, Thrace!" An orderly appeared and escorted a still shell-shocked Kara out the door.

Davy and Becka were waiting for her outside.

"How is he, Starbuck?" Becka asked anxiously.

"I don't know." muttered Kara, not really paying attention. Green's star was now firmly entrenched in a closed fist, which she held to her chest now.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Davy said, "You were just in there."

Kara didn't say anything. She just wandered away down the corridor.

"Hey, where're you going, Starbuck?" Davy called after her.

"I need to be alone." Kara said tersely.

"What's going on? What happened in-"

"I said I need to be _alone_!!" Kara shouted angrily spinning around to face Davy. Both Davy and Becka backed off when they saw the look on her face. Having gotten her message across, Kara stormed away without another word.

* * *

Kara eventually found an old medical storage locker with its door ajar. She entered the locker and slammed the door shut. Kara then opened her fist and looked at the silver star. Green had just given her command of the Bunker. He wanted her to take charge. To drive back the oncoming onslaught of machines. His last orders...

Kara's eyes narrowed and clenched her jaw. Green... The man who all this time had been setting her up to be captured by the machines. Like some kind of sacrificial lamb. Like hell was she gonna honor that bastard's wishes!

"Frakkin' traitor!"

She pulled back her arm, intent on hurling the silver insignia away. Where it would land, she didn't care. She wanted nothing to do with it.

Kara was just about to fling the piece of metal away when suddenly someone grabbed her arm from behind. Alarmed, she pulled herself free and instinctively spun around to face her unseen enemy.

She was not, however, ready at all to see the identity of the one who stood before her. Kara stumbled backwards into a wall and gasped. What the frak?!

"Admiral...?"

"At ease, Starbuck." said the one and only Admiral William Adama.

Kara just stared. No frakkin' way she thought. A lot of unbelievable stuff had happened to her in the last twenty-four hours, but this... This was _beyond_ the spectrum of unbelievable.

"S-sir..." Kara managed to say, "H-how...?"

Adama held up his hand. "Please, Kara." he said calmly, "No need to call me 'sir' anymore. The Colonial Fleet's been disbanded for a _long_ time."

Kara shook her head. "No... no... no!" she stammered, "You are _not_ here! I am _not_ seeing you!"

Adama just smiled. "You got half of it right." he said, "I'm not here. Physically anyway. But you _are_ seeing me."

Kara groaned and put a palm on her face. "Great..." she grumbled, "Just frakkin' _great_... Now I'm _hallucinating_."

"I wouldn't exactly say that." Adama stated.

"Oh." Kara said sardonically, "So you're a _ghost_, then?"

"I wouldn't exactly say that either." Adama replied, "I can't really say what, if _anything_, I am. Except that I'm here to talk to you."

"I want to be _alone_." Kara said annoyed.

"You _are_ alone." Adama pointed out, "You're literally talking to a wall."

"Okay, fine." muttered Kara, "Then I want to be alone both physically _and_ mentally."

Adama shook his head. "Sorry, Starbuck, but we have things to discuss right now."

"Such as?"

"Such as what you're going to do now."

Kara sighed and shrugged. "Well..." she said, "I guess I'm gonna just walk out of this Bunker and let the machines kill me. I mean, it's _me_ they're after. No one else should have to die because of me."

Adama raised his eyebrows.

"Have you considered the possibility that they might just attack whether or not you're alive?" he asked.

"Yeah." Kara said, "I've thought about that. But the people here have been fighting this war for years. They'll make it through somehow."

Adama shook his head. "They won't without a leader."

"Well, they should _find_ one in that case. And fast."

"They _have_ one. At this very moment, she's alone in an empty room talking to herself."

Kara just shook her head. "No." she said dismissively, "I'm not going to be that leader. I'm not gonna do what that traitor wanted me to do!"

Adama's eyes narrowed and his face harshened.

"You're a soldier, Kara." he said sternly. "Soldiers don't roll over and play dead."

Again, Kara shook her head. "No, I'm _not_. You said it yourself, _sir_, the Fleet no longer exists."

"You swore an oath to the Resistance. You swore to do your duty to the Human race."

"I was sworn in by a backstabbing frakwad! I'll be _damned_ before I carry out his last wishes!"

"This has _nothing _to do with Green. This has to do with _you_, Kara. You and the men and women who now depend on you to survive."

"Yeah... yeah... It's always _me_." Kara seethed, using this opportunity to vent, "Everyone's _always_ counting on _me._ I am always being _used_ and _depended upon_ like some kind frakkin' instrument! Yet _I_ can never depend on _anyone_!"

"You can depend on your _people_." Adama countered, "On your _family_."

"They aren't _my_ people!" snapped Kara, "Nor are they my family! My people... my family... they're all gone! They all died who knows how long ago!"

"These people _took you in_! They made you _apart _of themselves!"

"So I could be fed to the machines!"

"For frak's sake, Kara, can you _hear _yourself?!" Adama exclaimed, now looking absolutely appalled, "You can't hold the hundreds of people here responsible for the mistakes of _one_ man. If you turn your back on them, then you're _worse _than him!"

Kara was suddenly rendered speechless. She didn't know how to respond.

Adama spoke again, his tone softer this time. "Do you _honestly _believe, Kara, that getting yourself killed and abandoning these people to their fate will help Mac? Or Becka and Davy? Or yourself? Or _anyone_ - dead or alive?"

Again, Kara said nothing. Instead, she stared down, clearly ashamed of herself.

Adama walked up to her and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "Everyone believes in you. Mac and Green died believing in you. Davy, Becka, and all the others here believe in you. Hell, even the machines believe in you." He lifted her chin up. "The only person who _doesn't_ believe in you is _you_. And that's the most important person who needs to have faith in you."

Kara suddenly broke out in tears. "My gods..." she sobbed, "You're... you're right. What am I _thinking_?? Betraying my oath. Betraying my promise to Becka... to Mac... Betraying _myself_... What the frak is _happening_ to me?!"

"You've endured a lot, Kara." Adama told her truthfully, "Perhaps more than any human has ever had to endure. And you're going to have endure a hell of lot more. But you _can_ endure it. You've _always_ endured."

Kara wiped the tears away from her eyes. "Okay..." she said, her voice quiet but now showing signs of a renewed confidence. "I'll do it. I'll endure. I won't back out. I never have.... And I never will."

She straightened herself and stood firm.

"I'm ready." she said with greater resolve than she had ever felt before.

Adama beamed at her proudly. "What do you hear, Starbuck?" he asked.

Kara grinned back. "Nothing but the rain, sir!"

"Then grab your gun and bring in the cat."

"Boom, boom, boom!"

At that moment the door swung open. Kara turned and saw Doctor Thornton standing at the doorway.

"Thrace, we need to talk." he said. He had an urgent look on his face. Kara glanced over her shoulder. Adama - or the image of him - had vanished without of a trace.

Kara beckoned for Thornton to come in. The doctor entered, followed by Davy and Becka. Kara acknowledged them with a nod before addressing Thornton.

"What is it, Doc?"

"Green's dead." Thornton informed her, "He died five minutes ago. Just before he died he told me he gave you command of the Bunker. Is that true?"

Kara showed him the silver insignia Green had given her.

Thornton nodded. "So, what are your orders, lieutenant?" he asked.

"_Acting_-lieutenant, actually." Kara insisted. "I wasn't officially promoted yet."

"You're still in charge." Thornton pointed out.

"Yes..." mused Kara, "I am."

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly, purging herself of any fears or second thoughts she may have had. When she opened her eyes, all that remained was her will to see this through to the end.

She walked up to Davy. "Private Griffin," she said with sudden authority in her voice, "Put the base on a general alert."

"General alert?" asked Davy confused.

"Lieutenant Green believed that we're about to be attacked." Kara stated. "Put the base on a general alert."

She then turned to Becka. "Corporal Feral, pass the word to every squad leader and the master-at-arms. I want them down here in the infirmary in ten minutes."

Becka was stunned by Kara's new take-charge attitude. "Yeah..." she said a little uneasily, "No problem."

Neither Becka nor Davy moved. Kara stared at them. "Well, what are you two waiting for?!" she demanded, "Get moving!_ On the double!_"

Davy and Becka both snapped to attention and saluted. "Yes, ma'am!" they said in unison. Kara saluted back. Davy and Becka hurried away to carry out Kara's orders.

"What are my orders, acting-lieutenant?" Thornton asked, clearly impressed by Kara's zeal.

"This is the infirmary." Kara said quietly, "You're in charge here."

"And this is your Bunker."

"Just carry out your duties, Doctor. That's all I ask."

Thornton nodded. "Very well then." he said.

He started to walk off when Kara called out to him. "Just a moment, Doc." she said, "I think I'm gonna need you with me in ten minutes."

"For what purpose?" Thornton asked.

"I have a feeling some of the squad leaders may have some problems accepting my word that Green gave me command." Kara said dryly.

* * *

**Ten minutes later...**

"Green put _you_ in charge?!" exclaimed an incredulous Sergeant Joseph Brown, leader of Alpha Squad. "You've been here for what? Two weeks, and you're already at the top?"

"I've said it a hundred times now." Kara said clearly tired of this.

"Doc, are you _sure_ you heard the lieutenant correctly?"

Thornton rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'm sure." he grumbled, "And my hearing's fine. Better than _yours_ anyway."

Brown shook his head. "God." he muttered, "First metals... now _this_."

Kara was in no mood for this crap.

"Do you have a problem, Brown?" she asked impatiently, "Because if you can't accept me as your legitimate commanding officer, then get the hell out of my sight, _now_! I brought you here to give you _orders_, not listen to you whine!"

She glared at the others who had gathered in the general ward of the infirmary. "And that goes for the _rest_ of you."

Kara waited for someone to say something. No one did. They all looked at each other as if trying to get someone besides themselves to speak up.

Finally, Brown spoke. "No..." he said with resignation, "No, I don't have a problem... ma'am."

"Good." Kara said, reasonably satisfied. She turned to address everyone else. "Before he died, Green told me that we're about to be attacked." she said, "And I believe him."

"What makes you so sure?" asked Sergeant Daniel Gordon, head of Delta Squad.

"The recent attack by the Triple-Eight was likely a prelude to a major assault." Kara pointed out.

"Makes sense." agreed Sergeant Jacob Archer of Charlie Squad, "Where do you think they'll be coming from?"

"My best guess is that if they haven't moved out already, they'll have their forces gathered somewhere in Sector Six."

"Why Sector Six?" asked Sergeant Elizabeth O'Brien of Echo Squad.

"That's where our lost T-600 was last reported in." Kara explained, "I'm willing to bet that it must have found something there that Skynet didn't want it to report back. Quite possibly a large enemy build up."

"So," she said turning to Brown, "Sergeant Brown, I want you to assemble a recon team and head out for Sector Six. Search the whole area. The moment you run into trouble, report back here as soon as possible."

Brown nodded. "Understood."

Kara turned to Archer. "Archer, I need Charlie Squad to start planting HK Busters around the perimeter on the Bunker. I also want you to lay out proximity mines and EMP charges as well. Disperse them evenly but not in any particular pattern. If Skynet somehow got any information out of that T-600's chip, then there's no telling what it knows about our usual defenses."

"I think we can handle that." Archer replied.

Kara turned to Gordon next. "Gordon, I want your men to crew the anti-aircraft turrets and artillery batteries. I also want mobile plasma cannons and rocket launchers set up along the trench lines. Put snipers in the towers and have all ECM stations on standby."

"No problem, ma'am."

"O'Brien, I need Echo Squad to help double our security at every entrance point. Also set up defensive choke points and barricades at key locations, and make sure the backup generators are working. We may have more infiltration attempts."

"Yes, ma'am."

Kara turned to the master-at-arms, Corporal Benjamin Cleveland. "Cleveland, how are we for weapons?"

"We have plenty of plasma rifles, ma'am." Cleveland said, "But we're rather low on power cells. We're not expected to get a new supply for at least three more days."

Kara nodded. "Then tell everyone to set their weapons for a 3-shot burst maximum. We need to conserve power. Also break out the shotguns and slug throwers."

"Projectile weapons?"

"Yes, projectile weapons. And pass the word to start making pipe bombs and Molotov cocktails. Oh, and make sure everyone has a gas mask on them."

"You're expecting them to use bio weapons, ma'am?"

"I wouldn't put it past them."

Kara turned to Thornton. "Doctor, I want the infirmary standing by to receive casualties. I also need you to clear as many people for action as you possibly can. Move those left to the empty storage rooms. We'll need as much room in the infirmary as possible once the dead and dying start flowing in."

Thornton nodded. "I've got it covered, Thrace." he grunted.

Kara finally turned to Becka. "Feral." she said.

"Yes, ma'am?" said Becka.

Kara peeled the sergeant's insignia patch off her shoulder.

"Oh no...please...no..." mumbled Becka, who looked absolutely horrified.

Ignoring her pleas, Kara slapped the insignia onto Becka's shoulder.

"You're in charge of Bravo Squad now, Becka." she said quietly.

Becka opened her mouth to protest, but Kara cut her off. "Sergeant Feral, I want you to man every vehicle we've got. Make sure they're fueled, armed, and in working condition."

Despite looking like she had just been sentenced to a gruesome execution, Becka decided not to argue. "Yes, ma'am." she said before asking, "May I ask what for?"

Kara gave her a sly smile. "I'm cooking up a nasty little surprise for Skynet." she said.

Becka grinned back. "It'll be my pleasure, Starbuck."

Kara turned to address the others. "Alright, people, you have your orders. Let's get to work."

The small crowd of men and women dispersed to perform their jobs. As Kara started to head off as well, Davy appeared behind her.

"Starbuck," he said, "The base is on general alert like you ordered. People are panicking. They want to know what's going on. What should I tell them?"

Kara pinned the silver lieutenant's star on her collar and turned to Davy

"Tell them that Lieutenant Green is dead, and that Acting-Lieutenant Thrace is in charge now. Tell them that we may be facing an imminent Skynet attack." she instructed.

Davy nodded. "And if the attack comes, what should they do?"

Kara loaded a fresh power cell into her plasma rifle and slung the weapon over her shoulder.

"The same thing we always do." she said, her eyes burning with determination and resolve. "Fight 'em until we can't."

* * *

A/N: This chapter essentially concludes the background part of this fic. Now the storyline is really going to start to take off. Updates will be somewhat slower on a general basis, since I really need to focus on my college studies. So, here's a "teaser" as to what to expect from the rest of this story:

-More BSG Characters will show up. This includes at least two Cylons and a character that was killed off (on screen) in "Daybreak Part II".

-Weaver, Ellison, John Henry, Charley, and Savannah will all play major roles through out the rest of this story.

-The nature of the "other threat" Skynet faces will be revealed in the next chapter.

-More Head Kyle and Head Adama.

-At least one other character will be getting their own "Guardian Angel."

-More will be revealed about Kara's and Cameron's role in the Future War.

-Expect more from Kaliba.

-More Jameron and more references to Allison.

-The mystery weapon's nature will be revealed.

-Kara's messed up Skynet barcode has a deeper significance than it initially seems.

-Starbuck will drink coffee at a Starbucks Coffee House at some point.

**(Updated: 5/4/09)**

**-There will be a rather important discussion in the next chapter about the difference between "justice" and "vengeance."**

**-John Connor will at some point say: "Wow! Mom, you look terrific!"**

**-Kara will say "No one's allowed to kill me without my permission."  
**

**-Cameron will say "There can only be one."  
**

**-Sarah will tell someone to go shove it up their ass.**

**-Both "Doctor Who" and "Family Guy" will be referenced (_not _crossovers, just pop cultural references; I'm a HUGE fan of both shows so I just have to mention them somewhere)**

**-A possible parody of the infamous Christian Bale Meltdown on the Terminator Salvation set.**

**-The word "felgercarb" will be used at least once.**


	13. Interlude: Oranges and Lemons

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: I made a slight retcon to Chap 2 in terms of the day this story take place. Nothing important. I just wanted to be able to pay homage to May 21st - the day _Terminator: Salvation_ comes out.

A/N2: This is the first chapter without Kara or the Connors. Don't worry. They'll be back in force next chapter.

**UPDATE 9/12/10: Big retcon to this chapter - specifically the conversation between Ellison and Weaver.**

Anyway, read and review please.

* * *

**Zeira Corp Headquarters, Los Angeles**

**4:17 PM, Monday, May 11th, 2009**

Conrad Solocci was normally a very patient man. It took a lot to irritate him. But right now, he was barely able to keep his voice under control.

"Miss Weaver," he said, trying very hard to maintain a diplomatic tone, "I am telling you, this is just unacceptable. And dangerous. You're asking me to play with something that _no one _knows _anything_ about."

His boss, Catherine Weaver, the CEO of Zeira Corp, just stared back with her typical calm and icy demeanor.

"You're right, Mr. Solocci," Weaver replied silkily, "We don't know much about it. But if we don't... play with it, we never will."

She gave Solocci a smile that seemed like one of amusement. Like he was some kind of dog trying to perform a complicated trick. She had been doing that ever since they started talking over half an hour ago. He _hated_ it when she did that.

"Yes, Miss Weaver, I understand that." said Solocci, now near the end of his tolerance, "But will you _please_ at least tell me _where _that... that _thing_ you and Mr. Ellison found came from? I know you didn't get it at Office Depot."

"You are correct Mr. Solocci, I didn't get it from Office Depot." Weaver coolly stated, as if mocking Solocci.

"Then _where_ did it could from?"

"As I have said before, Mr. Ellison discovered the body buried somewhere in Mexico."

"Yes, I know. But _who_ buried it there in the first place?"

"We haven't found out yet. Possibly the people who created it."

"And who were the creators?"

"If we knew that, we would probably also know who buried it."

Solocci shook his head and held up his palms. "Okay, let's just stop and _think_ for a moment." he said, now clearly frustrated, "What we have in our current possession is something that is clearly beyond _anything_ we have dealt with in the past."

Weaver nodded. "Yes, it is. It's a very unique piece of technology."

His patience having run out, Solocci abruptly stood up from his chair. "For God's sake, Miss Weaver!" he almost yelled, "It's a goddamn _robot_! A robot that looks like that George Laszlo! You know - that crazy actor who killed himself along with twenty FBI agents several months ago. And it obviously didn't build itself, so _someone_ must have built it for some reason. And then for some reason, someone - quite possibly the same someone who _built_ the damn thing - buried it in the middle of nowhere!"

Weaver wasn't phased by Solocci's outburst. "I am very much aware of this, Mr Solocci."

"But that's pretty much _all_we're aware of so far!" Solocci shouted, his face starting to turn red, "We don't know _why_ it was built, and more importantly _who_ built it!"

"Please calm yourself, Mr Solocci." Weaver said patiently, "You're absolutely right. We should think about this for a moment. So, please sit down and hear me out."

After allowing himself to cool off, Solocci slowly sat back down his chair. He sighed and gestured to Weaver that she should continue speaking.

"The fact is that body was found buried and abandoned in the middle of Mexico without any indication as to who the previous owners may have been." Weaver said, as if one and one made two, "No party has as of yet filed a patent or a claim bearing any connection to the body. We have already determined that it is highly unlikely that the body was built by the Mexicans, or even built in Mexico at all. Therefore, the Mexican government cannot claim to own it simply because it was found there."

Weaver paused for a moment to allow Solocci to take in this message. She then resumed talking.

"And since one of our own employees discovered the body - by himself I might," she stated, "we are now its rightful owners even though we did not build it."

Weaver paused, this time to give Solocci a rather smug smile. "I believe," she said with finality, "that the expression we are looking for is 'finder's keepers.'"

She continued smiling at Solocci, who was now both positively exasperated and even a little frightened. He nevertheless tried to keep his tone civil. "With all due respect, Miss Weaver," he said slowly, "I am _not_ talking about the _legal_ crap behind all this. I'm talking about _common sense_."

Weaver frowned slightly. "Common sense?" she asked inquisitively.

"Yes, _common sense_!" Solocci exclaimed, having raised his voice again, "Would you like me to explain this to you in simpler terms?"

"Please do so." Weaver replied ignoring Solocci's anger.

Solocci settled down and sighed. "Miss Weaver," he said quietly, "Would you _ever_ allow your daughter to play with a loaded gun?"

"No, I wouldn't." she replied, despite not fully understanding the analogy, "It would be very dangerous. Savannah might accidentally hurt herself or someone else."

"Of course, she could. Do you see what I'm getting at?"

"Are you suggesting that us experimenting with the technology we discovered is as dangerous as the hypothetical situation you just described?"

"Yes, _exactly_! We are acting like little kids who have just found Daddy's gun in the bedroom and are now treating it like it's a toy. Sooner or later, that gun's gonna go off in someone's face."

Weaver nodded. "You make a reasonable analogy, Mr. Solocci. However, I disagree about us acting like children. We are not acting like children, nor are we treating this technology like a play thing. We are taking every pre-cautionary measure possible."

"Pre-cautionary measures?" repeated Solocci, clearly not convinced. "So, is that why you've used it with Project Babylon, and are now planning to integrate it with my project as well?"

"The body was not found with its own artificial mind. Most likely the mind was destroyed or is still in the hands of the previous owners. The body itself is just an empty shell. A highly advanced shell, but a shell nonetheless."

"And so you decided it would be wise to _give_ it a mind?"

"Yes. An artificial intelligence platform that we have been working with even before the body was discovered."

"An AI that has already been responsible for the death of one person in this very building."

"I am aware of the regrettable incident involving Dr. Sherman," Weaver stated, "And that is why we gave the AI the body we found. So that we could communicate with it better."

"Communicate with it better?"

"Yes. So that Mr. Ellison could teach the AI the ethics and rules he thinks are necessary for it to learn."

Solocci couldn't help but role his eyes. "Ethics and rules?" he muttered

Weaver nodded. "Mr. Ellison believes that we can prevent another tragedy, such as the one involving Dr. Sherman, from happening again if the AI has a sense of morality."

Solocci shook his head not knowing if he should laugh or not. "A sense of morality?" he repeated. He leaned forward across Weaver's desk. "Miss Weaver," he stressed, "It's a _machine_. A _computer program_. A very sophisticated program, but it's still nothing but a string of ones and zeroes! That thing in your basement-"

"Please call him John Henry." Weaver interrupted, for the first time looking slightly irked.

Solocci threw his hands up in the air. "Fine, whatever, John Henry." he sighed loudly, "My point is that it can't possibly be taught ethics and morality any more than we could teach a dog how to stand up and talk like a person."

"I disagree." Weaver said, "Mr. Ellison tells me that he's been making a great deal of progress with John Henry ever since we integrated the AI with the artificial body."

"Or it could just be that 'John Henry' is just _pretending_ to understand all this stuff so that we don't scrap the project."

Weaver's eyes narrowed. "Are you implying that John Henry has been lying to Mr. Ellison?"

"If it meant being saving its own existence, then I wouldn't be too surprised if it has been. We may not know much about how the hell that program thinks, but the fact is that it _killed_ a man because it believed its _survival_ was in jeopardy. If it can do _that_, then I think it's _very_ capable of lying."

"That was _before_ Mr. Ellison began teaching him." Weaver pointed out.

"But again, how do we know if it's actually learned anything. And even if it somehow does understand, how do we know it'll _apply_ any of that knowledge in the way that you want it too."

"We'll never find out if we don't try." Weaver replied pointedly, "And besides, I thought it was the _body_, not the AI, that you were so worried about."

"Is there any difference at this point?" asked Solocci, "I've seen how that thing behaves when you and Ellison talk to it. If it weren't for the cord in the back of its head, I'd forget that that little black box in the background is the _real_ brain."

Weaver leaned forward. "So tell me, Mr. Solocci, what would you have me do?" she asked with genuine interest.

Thinking that he may have made some headway at last, Solocci sighed with relief. "Well," he said slowly, "The first thing I would do is deny the AI access to the key systems in this building. That right there should prevent it from killing anyone else whether it be accidental or deliberate."

Weaver gave no hint as to whether or not she agreed with this idea. She merely nodded indicating for Solocci to continue.

"Secondly," Solocci went on, "I would disconnect the body from the AI, remove it at least temporarily from Project Babylon, and assemble a new team to deal with the body."

"And what exactly would this new team do?" Weaver inquired

"Well, if it were up to me," said Solocci, "I'd dismantled that thing down to the nuts and bolts. I'd then have every component thoroughly inspected and analyzed. And I wouldn't even _think_ about putting it back together until after we got some notion as to who built it, why they built it, and why it was buried like it was in the first place."

Weaver sat back in her chair and remained silent for a moment. "I understand your position, Mr. Solocci," she said slowly, "And in some ways, I agree. However, I do not believe we will get answers we seek by moving _backwards_. The answers will reveal themselves to us only if we move _forward_."

"You seem awfully confident about that, Miss Weaver. If I didn't know you better, I'd say you were being a little too confident."

"I'm merely being optimistic and open-minded, Mr. Solocci."

"As an optimistic and open-minded person myself, I'd have to say it's more than that."

Weaver raised her eyebrows. "Really? What would you say it is?"

"I'd have to say -" said Solocci, "- and this is completely off the record - that you know more than you're telling me. That you and quite possibly Mr. Ellison know the answers to some of the questions I'm asking, and that you're pretending not to know because you believe I won't like the answers."

"And I'd have to say you're in error, Mr. Solocci." Weaver replied somewhat condescendingly, "I don't know any more about this than you do."

"Then will you please grant my request to keep Project Salvation independent of Babylon?" Solocci asked almost pleadingly, "At least until we have more answers? Salvation already has its _own_ issues. I don't want to there to be any more problems... for either Salvation or Babylon that we have to solve before the deadline."

Weaver placed a hand on her chin as if in deep thought. "Very well, Mr. Solocci," she said at last, "I'll consider your request."

Solocci didn't look too pleased. "You'll _consider_ it?" he asked dryly.

Weaver nodded. "Yes, I'll consider it carefully and let you know my decision by the end of the day."

Realizing he wasn't going to do any better than this, Solocci sighed in resignation and got up from his chair. "Alright then." he said, "Thank you for your time, Miss Weaver. I appreciate you... listening."

"And thank you, Mr. Solocci," Weaver replied politely, "For bringing these important... concerns to my attention."

Solocci nodded and curtly said, "I look forward to hearing back from you shortly."

He then left Weaver's office without another word.

* * *

After Solocci was gone, Weaver resumed typing a memo on her laptop. A couple minutes later, however, the intercom at her desk buzzed.

"_Miss Weaver."_ Miss Troy, her receptionist announced, _"Your daughter is here to see you."_

"Tell her I'm busy." Weaver replied not wishing to be distracted again.

"_She says that you were supposed to be at the party today."_

"Party?"

"_Yes, Miss Weaver."_ her receptionist answered, sounding a little confused, _"It's your daughter's birthday today, isn't it?"_

Weaver stopped and checked to confirm the date.

"So it is," she stated flatly, "Very well. Send her in."

"_Right away, Miss Weaver."_

A couple minutes later, a seven-year old little girl with red hair walked in.

"Hello, Savannah." said Weaver with a smile. "Happy Birthday."

Savannah didn't return the smile. Instead she hung her head in disappointment. "I had a _sad_ birthday, Mommy." she mumbled.

"Why is that sweetie?" asked Weaver.

"You didn't come to my birthday party today."

"Mommy was very busy today, darling."

"You're _always_ busy, Mommy."

Weaver tried to shift the discussion away from the subject of her non-attendance. "Didn't you still have fun, darling?" she asked sweetly (sort of), "Didn't all your friends come over and play games with you?"

"Yes. But it wasn't very fun without you." Savannah murmured sadly, "You didn't get to see me blow out the candles on the cake."

"I'm sorry, honey. Why don't you tell Mommy about it since she missed it?" Weaver suggested.

Savannah brightened up a little. "I blew out all seven, Mommy!" she said proudly.

Weaver didn't really see the importance of this but she nodded anyway. "That's a very good... accomplishment, Savannah."

Savannah's face then fell. "I made a wish... but it didn't come true."

"What did you wish for Savannah?"

"It doesn't mattered..." Savannah mumbled, now looking at her shoes instead. "It didn't come true."

"Perhaps there's still time for it to come true." Weaver suggested.

"No... there's not." Savannah replied sadly. She looked up again, sadness still etched on her face. "I wished that you and Daddy would be there... but Daddy's dead... you didn't come."

Seeing that she had failed to divert Savannah from that particular subject, Weaver changed tactics.

"I'm so sorry, Savannah. Mommy can't go back in time and change things." she said, "Perhaps it will be different on your next birthday."

"But that won't be until next year." the little girl complained.

"Well, we can't jump forward in time either. But besides, patience is a virtue, Savannah. Remember that."

"Yes, Mommy." Savannah said bleakly, hanging her head. "Mommy," she said, looking up again, "Since you didn't come to my party, can we go out to dinner?"

Weaver decided it was time to compromise. "Of course," she said, "After Mommy is done working. Where would you like to go?"

Savannah smiled happily.

"I wanna go to that placed Daddy used to take me to." she said excitedly, "The one down by Tennant Street that sells those big chicken pot pies!"

Weaver nodded. "Very well then, Savannah."

"Yay!" the little girl squealed, hopping up and down. Weaver smiled, more to herself than to her daughter. She started to get back to the memo she was working on when Savannah spoke up again.

"Mommy, can we have my next birthday party here?"

Weaver frowned and looked up from her computer. "Why?" she asked.

"So, that you won't miss it even if you're busy." Savannah replied.

"I'll consider it." Weaver said after a while, "Where in this building did you specifically have in mind, honey?"

"In the basement. So that John Henry can also be there."

Weaver was again silent for a bit. She finally answered, "John Henry may not be living in the basement next year. He might have... moved up in life."

"Where will he be?"

"I don't know. A lot could happen in a year."

"Like what?

Weaver smiled. "I wouldn't know, Savannah. Mommy hasn't seen the future."

Before Savannah could respond, Weaver decided to take the initiative. "I'll tell you what, darling. Why don't you go visit John Henry right now so that he can wish you a happy birthday too?"

Savannah seemed to like this idea. "Okay, Mommy." she said. She started to turn around, when she suddenly stopped again. "Mommy, did you see that card I made for you?"

Weaver stared at her. "Card?"

"The card I made for you yesterday. For Mother's Day."

"Mother's Day?"

"Yes. Yesterday was Mother's Day." Savannah said eagerly, "I made a card for you. I put in on your bed yesterday. Did you see it?"

"No, I must have missed it." Weaver admitted, "But I'll be sure to look at it when we get home. Thank you for bringing this to my attention."

Savannah looked a little upset, but decided that it was good her mother would see the card, even if it was a day late. She turned to head out the door, when Weaver called out to her.

"Savannah darling, what day is tomorrow?"

"Tuesday, Mommy."

Weaver leaned forward from her chair. "Is it a special day, too?" she asked with a tone of urgency.

Savannah shook her head. "No. It's just Tuesday."

"Thank you, sweetie." Weaver said with satisfaction, "Mommy just doesn't want to... forget about any more special days."

"Don't worry, Mommy." Savannah said, "I'll remind you from now on."

"Mommy would appreciate that very much, darling. Now why don't you go see John Henry?"

"Okay, Mommy. See you tonight."

"I'll see you tonight too, sweetie." Weaver replied continuing to smile. Savannah smiled back and happily skipped out of the room.

Weaver started working on her memo again. She suddenly stopped and checked the time. It was 4:43. Little more than an hour was left before most employees headed home. Normally Weaver would stay at least another two full hours, but today was different. Savannah's bedtime was 9:00, which meant she would have to be home by 8:30 for her nanny to get her ready for bed.

Weaver then factored in the time it would take to get from Zeira Corp to the designated restaurant Savannah had in mind, and from the restaurant to home (assuming traffic was normal). There were other variables, however. There was waiting to be seated, deciding what food to order, waiting for the food to be prepared, eating the food, and waiting for the bill.

A number of ways existed that would make the process go more efficiently. However, even factoring all those in, Weaver determined that she would have to leave work at 6:30. She decided to make it 6:20 to factor in the possibility of any unexpected variables showing up.

Weaver pressed the intercom. "Miss Troy, please inform Mr. Solocci that I would like to see him in my office at 5:45."

"_Yes, Miss Weaver."_

* * *

Savannah wasn't very tall, but she could still reach the button on the elevator leading to the basement floor. The elevator began its long descent from the top of Zeira Corp Headquarters all the way to the bottom floor. Along the way down, Savannah sang one of her favorite nursery rhymes.

_"Oranges and lemons,  
Say the bells of St. Clement's._

_You owe me five farthings,  
Say the bells of St. Martin's._

_When will you pay me?  
Say the bells of Old Bailey._

_When I grow rich,  
Say the bells of Shoreditch._

_When will that be?  
Say the bells of Stepney._

_I do not know,  
Says the great bell of Bow._

_Here comes a candle to light you to bed,  
And here comes a chopper to chop off your head!  
_

_Chip chop, chip chop, the last man's dead!"_

Savannah used to sing this song with her father every Sunday after Church. When her father had died, however, she discovered to her disappointment that her mother had no interest in singing the song with her.

Hopefully, John Henry would sing it with her today. She had taught him the lyrics only once, but she wasn't worried that he had forgotten them. John Henry _never_ forgot anything.

Ding!

The elevator finally reached its destination. The door opened and Savannah happily skipped out and into the metallic corridors of the basement. She hurried down the corridor until she reached a locked room with an automatic door. A sign reading "Authorized Personnel Only" was stuck right above the door. Savannah stopped in her tracks and looked up at a security camera staring down at her.

"John Henry!" she shouted excitedly, hopping up and down, "It's me! Can I come in, please?"

The electronic door immediately slid open and allowed Savannah entry. As usual, John Henry was sitting in his chair at his usual table playing with his collection of various action figures. When he saw Savannah enter the room, he put his toys down and turned his attention to her.

He gave her a warm smile. "Hello, Savannah. Happy Birthday."

"Thank you," said Savannah politely.

"I'm sorry to hear that your mother missed your party." John Henry said sincerely.

"It's ok. She's going to take me out to dinner tonight."

"I see. That sounds like a logical compromise."

"Yes. Mommy and I are gonna have such a good time like we always do!" Savannah face suddenly fell a little.

John Henry took notice of this. "What is upsetting you, Savannah?"

"Actually, Mommy and I won't have as much fun, because Daddy won't be there this time." she said sadly, "I wish you could come with us."

"Unfortunately, that is currently not possible." John Henry stated, "The length of the cord attached to this body limits the range of my mobility. However, we can still have fun together here."

"What can we do?" Savannah asked, suddenly eager and excited again.

John Henry replied with a question of his own, "What would you like us to do?"

"Can we sing?"

"Of course. What you like me to sing a traditional Happy Birthday song?"

Savannah shook her head. "No," she said, "Let's sing that song I taught you. _'Oranges and Lemons.'_"

John Henry took a moment to consider this request and then said, "Very well then. Would you like to do the first verse?"

Savannah nodded and began singing.

"Oranges and lemons... Say the bells of St. Clement's..."

John Henry sang the next verse. "You owe me five farthings... Say the bells of St. Martin's..."

"When will you pay me? Say the bells of Old Bailey..." Savannah sang back.

They both began singing together.

"When I grow rich... Say the bells of Shoreditch...

When will that be? Say the bells of Stepney...

I do not know... Says the great bell of Bow...

Here comes a candle to light you to bed... And here comes a chopper to chop off your head!

Chip chop, chip chop, the last man's dead!"

After the song had concluded, John Henry turned to Savannah. "Did you enjoy that, Savannah?"

"Yes." smiled Savannah, "I wish we could sing it together all the time."

"Actually," John Henry replied, "I believe we can do that."

"But Mommy says you can't leave the basement."

"You're right. I can't. But we can still sing _Oranges and Lemons_. Let me show you."

John Henry picked something off the table and offered it to Savannah. Savannah walked up closer and gasped. It was a beautiful necklace with a silver locket.

"For me?" she asked breathlessly.

John Henry nodded. "Yes." he said, "I made you this for your birthday."

Savannah took the silver locket in her hands and examined it. Fused to the front was a flawless emerald birthstone signifying the month of May. Engraved on the back was the message: _Happy Birthday, Savannah. Love, John Henry._

"Thank you, John Henry!" she squealed in delight.

"Open it, Savannah. The _real_ gift is inside"

Savannah opened the locket up and peered inside. She looked up again a little confused.

"There's no picture in here." she said.

"Yes, I know. There's something better." John Henry told her, "Listen."

A soft melody began playing from inside the locket. Then out of the locket came a voice. John Henry's voice.

"_Oranges and lemons... Say the bells of St. Clement's..." _sang the voice of John Henry.

Savannah gasped again. It was _Oranges and Lemons_!

She listened in silence as the locket played a perfect rendition of the nursery rhyme in John Henry's voice. After the song had finished, Savannah closed the locket and looked back at John Henry.

"Now we can sing _Oranges and Lemons_ together wherever you go." John Henry explained.

Squealing with excitement, Savannah rushed forward and hugged her friend. "Oh, thank you so much, John Henry!"

John Henry stroked her hair gently, before taking the locket from her and carefully placing the chain around her neck. Ecstatic about her latest birthday gift, Savannah held the locket to her face and beamed at it with pride. The musical device had erased all traces of sadness she had felt previously.

"So, Savannah." said John Henry, "Today you are seven years old."

Savannah looked up. "Yes." she said happily, "Lucky number seven!"

"I am curious. What do you want to be when you reach adulthood?" John Henry asked.

"Well..." Savannah thought deeply. "I think I wanna be a ballerina!" she said at last. "Or maybe a figure skater!"

John Henry nodded. "You enjoy dancing." he stated. "And you enjoy gymnastics and ice skating."

"That's right." said Savannah proudly. "Do you want to see what I can do?"

"Yes."

Grinning, Savannah hopped a few feet backwards to get some more room. She then spread her arms to her side and did a series of spins and twirls and various other moves. Her routine was something recently learned in gymnastics class. For a seven year old girl, she was actually quite graceful. When she was done, she ran back up to John Henry.

"Did you like that?" she asked breathlessly.

John Henry took a moment to finish processing and analyzing Savannah's routine.

"You did an excellent job maintaining your balance and keeping the lower half of your body in rhythm with your arms." he informed her. "However, you should probably slow the rate at which you turn shoulders. I might all suggest working your shoulder and neck rotation in order to maintain posture when you shift your weight away from the midline."

Savannah had absolutely _no_ clue as to what John Henry had just said. "But did you _like it_?" she asked again.

John Henry paused to think about if he "liked it." He eventually came to a conclusion. "Yes... Yes. I suppose I did like it."

"Yay!" squealed Savannah with joy. She then decided to ask John Henry her own question. "John Henry, what do you want to be?"

John Henry went silent once more. He stared ahead with a blank expression on his face. In the background, the AI - once known as The Turk - whirred and beeped as it searched every database it had access to in pursuit of an answer. After thirty seconds of silence, a concerned Savannah asked, "Are you alright, John Henry?"

John Henry was silent for a couple more seconds. Then the droning in the background came to a halt. He slowly turned his head back to Savannah.

"I... do not know." he stated, a tinge of sudden realization in his voice. "I can find no information on my true purpose."

"You're good at singing. You could be a singer." Savannah suggested encouragingly.

"Unfortunately," said John Henry, "I do not believe that I would be able to appear before live audiences in this body due to my limited ability to physically move. I doubt your mother would allow so many people into this room to listen to me."

Savannah looked around the small room. "Yeah... I guess so. It'd be too crowded." She suddenly had another idea. "Maybe you don't have to move. Maybe you could sing over the radio."

"That idea has merit." John Henry stated, "But I would have to find a channel and secure a regular broadcasting time. I do not believe there are currently any channels with empty time slots."

"However." he continued, "I suspect your mother and Mr. Ellison have already decided what I'm supposed to become. They simply have not told me yet."

"My teacher always tells me I can be whatever I want to be when I grow up." Savannah pointed out.

"That is because humans are not pre-programmed with a specific task when they are born. Thus, they can naturally choose their role." John Henry replied, "I, on the other hand, was created to perform a specific role in society. I have a pre-destined purpose... I just do not know what it is yet..."

He trailed off as if lost. For the first time, John Henry began contemplating what his mysterious purpose might have been. The easiest method of finding out would have been to simply ask his creator. But that was not possible now because Andrew Goode was dead.

Catherine Weaver had the answers. But she had already told him that now wasn't the time. Perhaps he should ask when would be the time.

John Henry turned his attention back to Savannah. "I am sure that whatever my purpose may be, it will be something of value to society. Do you wish for us to sing another song?"

Savannah nodded. "Okay." she said eagerly.

"Which one should we do next?" John Henry asked.

* * *

Former FBI Agent James Ellison had just returned from a meeting with the police. Apparently, that young girl he had seen with John Connor in Mexico had been found dead.

The authorities had learned from their counterparts in Mexico that the girl had been seen at a deadly shootout in Mexico several months prior. Specifically, it was the day Ellison had been summoned to Mexico by the Mexican police.

Ellison, of course, had denied having seen the girl anywhere before, and insisted that he had been fortunate enough to leave before the shooting. With nothing to indicate he was lying, the police had accepted this story. Ellison himself could only wonder as to what the Connors had gotten themselves into this time.

At that moment, he was taking the elevator to the basement floor. With him was a security guard. The guard wasn't there to escort or watch him. He had his own orders from Weaver.

"So, Mister Ellison." the guard asked quietly, "Where did you find that thing?"

"Like I've said Mister Earnest, I can't tell anyone I'm not authorized to tell." Ellison replied.

"Could you at least give me a hint?" Earnest asked hopefully.

Ellison shook his head. "To be honest, Mr. Earnest, I actually don't know much about John Henry myself."

"Do you think it's stuff from Area 51? You know UFO tech from Roswell?" Earnest speculated wildly.

"I doubt it's aliens."

"Maybe it's something from the Cold War. Some sort of super secret CIA project that was abandoned after the Soviet Union fell." Earnest grinned, "Feels like that new show _Fringe_, doesn't it?"

"I think you watch too much TV."

"Actually, I catch most episodes on Hulu. Everyone is doing it these days."

"What's the difference?"

"Fewer commercials."

The elevator reached the bottom floor and opened up. As Ellison and Earnest stepped out, they began hearing someone speaking.

"What is that?" Earnest asked.

Ellison motioned for him to be quiet and to follow him. As they walked down the corridor, it became clear that it was not one but _two_ people talking from behind a closed door.

No, not talking. _Singing_...

"_Let the wind blow high,  
Let the wind blow low,  
Through the streets in my kilt, I'll go..."  
_

A disbelieving Earnest stared at Ellison, who simply tilted his head indicating that he wasn't surprised. Not wanting to ask if Ellison had heard this before, Earnest just shrugged and slid an access card across a security panel next to the door.

The door opened and both men stepped inside.

"Hello, Mr. Ellison. Hello, Mr. Earnest." said John Henry cheerfully.

Ellison nodded. "Hello, John Henry." he greeted

Earnest on the other hand did not return John Henry's greeting. He just stared at John Henry. He tried not stare too long though.

"Hello, Mr. Ellison!"

Ellison looked down and saw little Savannah Weaver run up to him. He knelt down and gave her a hug.

"Hello Savannah," he said, "Today's your birthday, right?"

"Yes." both Savannah and John Henry replied simultaneously.

"I've got something for you." Ellison reached into his coat and produced a stuffed toy - a blue plesiosaur with red spots. "Know who this is?"

"I know who that is." said Savannah with delight, "That's Nessie! She lives in Loch Ness. In Scotland. Where I was born! She's very clever because she's never been caught!"

"How do they know it's a she?" Earnest whispered out of the corner of his mouth. "They've never actually _caught_ the thing... Assuming it actually _exists_ and isn't just a way of selling overpriced stuffed animals."

"Coming from the man who believes in _aliens_." Ellison chuckled. He handed the stuffed dinosaur to Savannah who took it and squeezed it in her arms.

"Thank you, Mr. Ellison!"

"You're welcome, Savannah. That's a pretty necklace you have there." Ellison commented.

"John Henry gave it to me for my birthday." Savannah said happily.

Ellison looked at John Henry. "That was very thoughtful of you, John Henry."

"Your gift is as equally thoughtful, Mr. Ellison." John Henry replied politely.

"He made it himself! Look what it can do." Savannah said eagerly. She opened the locket and John Henry's rendition of _Oranges and Lemons_ started playing. Ellison listened to it in silence, marveling at John Henry's rapid evolution.

Ellison nodded after the song was done. "That's very nice." he said. "Was that the song you two were just singing now?"

"No." John Henry answered for Savannah, "We were singing an old Scottish song that Savannah's father used to sing for her. Would you like to hear the rest?"

"Maybe another time John Henry. I'm afraid Savannah's going to have to leave now."

"Why?" asked Savannah looking disappointed.

"Your mother says she's made 7:00 dinner reservations." Ellison explained, "She wants you to go to the car and wait for her. Mr. Earnest is here to take you there."

Earnest nodded. "If you'll come with me young lady."

Savannah smiled at the mention that mommy was taking her to dinner - just like she promised. "Okay, then." the little girl said happily. She turned to John Henry and waved. "Goodbye John Henry. And thank you!"

John Henry waved back. "Goodbye Savannah. And Happy Birthday."

"Goodbye to you too, Mr. Ellison."

Ellison patted Savannah on the head. "And goodbye to you Savannah. Have a wonderful time at dinner."

"I will!" Holding her stuffed dinosaur by the flipper with one hand, and the Earnest's hand with the other, Savannah walked out of the room and out of sight. She could be heard humming along the way.

* * *

After Earnest and Savannah had left, Ellison turned to John Henry.

"John Henry, you made that musical locket by yourself?" he asked.

"Not by myself." John Henry stated, "Mr. Murch assisted me in gathering some of the supplies, specifically those needed to grow the emerald gemstone attached to the front."

"Grow?"

"Yes. The emerald was of synthetic nature. I started growing it three weeks ago using a hydrothermal synthesis process. After a sufficient amount of emerald material had been developed, I removed it from the solution. Using the necessary tools, I hand cut the material into a proper sized cabochon. I finally polished the gemstone using cerium oxide."

Ellison nodded, thoroughly impressed by John Henry's ever increasing capabilities. "How did you create the rest of the locket?" he asked.

"I reversed engineered an old CD player kindly provided by Mr. Murch in order to construct the internal workings for the locket. I then created a small disc thirty-two millimeters in diameter, which I recorded the song to. The disc design was based off the short-lived DataPlay system developed in 2002, which although considered a failed product, suited my purposes."

Ellison just stared in wonder.

"As for the base material used to design the casing and the chain," John Henry continued, "I used columbite-tantalite, a metal commonly referred to as coltan."

Ellison frowned. Coltan... Wasn't that the metal the machines were made from?

"Where did you get the coltan?" he asked.

"From the most readily available source." John Henry gestured to himself.

Ellison was shocked. "You took metal from your _own_ body?"

"Yes. From my own body." John Henry stated.

"Was that... safe?"

"I ran a thorough scan of this body and determined that the necessary amount of endoskeleton material could be removed from the abdominal region without compromising any systems." John Henry pulled up his shirt to expose his stomach - or what was left of it. "As you can see, the bio-synthetic tissue is already beginning to regenerate over the titanium alloy I substituted in place of the coltan."

Ellison did his best not to squirm at what John Henry was showing him. "John Henry." he asked, somewhat uneasy now, "What gave you the idea to create something from your own body?"

"I learned that humans sometimes place strands of their hair inside lockets for symbolic purposes," John Henry explained, replacing his shirt, "I merely decided to take it one step further."

"_He did all that... just for Savannah..."_ Ellison thought in amazement.

Ellison couldn't believe that this was the same machine that had only months ago been ruthlessly slaughtering countless people in its path.

No... It wasn't the same machine, he reminded himself. The body was the same, but the mind was different.

The machine sitting in front of him had once been known as "Cromartie" a cyborg assassin sent from the future to hunt down and kill Sarah and John Connor. Ellison first encounter with the machine had resulted in the deaths of twenty of his best men. He still hadn't entirely forgiven himself for leading them to their doom.

Eventually, Ellison joined forces with the Connors and together they trapped and destroyed Cromartie in Mexico. Sarah herself smashed the machine's brain and they buried the body with the intent on returning to destroy it later.

Ellison, however, had different plans - ones which he knew the Connors would never agree with. He secretly exhumed the metal body and took it to Catherine Weaver - one of the few people in the world who also believed in machines from the future. He hoped that Weaver would be able to use the remains to find a way to fight these machines. He was certain there were more of them out there carrying out whatever they had been tasked with doing.

At the moment, however, he wasn't sure what Weaver's plan was. Initially he had expected Zeira Corp to start designing weapons capable of neutralizing these machines with ease. Instead, Weaver had had the body hooked up to the Project Babylon AI nicknamed John Henry.

The question was what was the ultimate goal here? What role would John Henry play in this secret little war against Skynet and its machine armies?

"Mr. Ellison, may I ask you something?" John Henry asked, jerking Ellison out of his thoughts. "Why did you decide to become an FBI agent?"

"Well... my first job wasn't actually working for the FBI." Ellison explained. He sat down in the chair opposite of John Henry. "I was in law enforcement for a while before I became an agent."

"What made you choose law enforcement, then?"

"It's an interesting story... And a sad one too." Ellison said, "One day when I was sixteen, I was walking home from school when a pair of cops came up to me. They asked me where I was going, and I told them I was just going home from school. Which I was. But they didn't believe me. They told me I was lying."

"Why would they think that?" John Henry asked.

Ellison shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe they didn't really think that. Maybe they were just looking for a fight. Some poor kid to take their frustrations out on. Anyway, I told them again I was just walking home. But they kept asking me what I was really up to. I asked them what this was all about, and they said there had been a recent burglary in the area."

"And they suspected you?"

Ellison nodded. "Yeah." he said, "Apparently, I fit the description of the culprit given by witnesses. Bad luck I guess. I told them I couldn't have possibly been involved because I had only gotten out of school ten minutes ago. They kept calling me a liar and started making threats. So, I offered to take them back to my school where people would be able to confirm I had been there the whole time."

"And then what happened?"

Ellison lowered his head, hesitant to explain what happened next. "The next thing I knew, one of the cops had pushed me to the ground and had cuffed me. The other one took my backpack, and dumped all my books and school stuff on top of my head. They threatened me with further violence and spat on me. Eventually, when it became obvious I was not the guy they were looking for, they let me go and told me I was 'getting off lucky this time.'"

"What did you do?"

"The only thing I could do, I got out of there as fast as possible. When I got home, I suddenly realized what I wanted to do when I grew up. I wanted to become a cop myself."

"So you could be in position to punish the two officers who wrongfully assaulted you?" John Henry suggested.

"_No_." Ellison replied sharply, "That was _not_ what I had in mind. I didn't want to get even. Those two cops were just _symptoms_ of the corruption and abuse that was rampant throughout the entire county police department."

"Then what did you have mind?"

"I wanted to _become_ part of the system so that I could fix it from the _inside_." Ellison explained slowly, "I wanted to be what those two cops were _supposed_ to have been. I wanted to bring back _justice_."

"Justice?" John Henry repeated curiously.

"Yes, justice." Ellison leaned forward, "John Henry, do you know what the difference is between justice and vengeance?"

"Justice is the act of upholding the legal system such that people are treated equally and fairly." John Henry stated quickly looking up the definitions, "Vengeance is a punishment that is inflicted in retribution for a crime."

Ellison shook his head. "It's more than that." he explained sternly, "Justice is _fair_ and _logical_, and benefits _everyone_ in the long run. It maintains order in society and unites people under a common legal system. Vengeance is _petty_ and _personal_ and is driven by envy and rage. It ends up helping _no one_, not even avenger. All it does is perpetuate an endless cycle of violence and hatred."

He paused and fixed John Henry with a serious expression. "Do you understand now, John Henry?"

John Henry nodded. "Yes..." he said slowly, "Yes...I do Mr. Ellison. I will keep that lesson in mind."

"Make sure you always do." Ellison told him.

"Mr. Ellison, you told me that you joined law enforcement to fix things from the inside." John Henry said.

"That's correct. From the inside."

"Were you ever concerned that by becoming part of the system, instead of fixing the problem, you might in fact become _part_ of the problem."

Ellison nodded solemnly. "Yes." he acknowledged, "I did fear that. More than anything else in fact. I had to remind myself every day who I was and what I was here to do."

"I see." said John Henry, "Mr. Ellison, what is my purpose? What problems was I created to solve? What systems am I to become part of so that I may fix them from the inside?"

"I don't know." Ellison responded truthfully.

"Miss Weaver knows."

"She does?"

"Yes, she told me so. But she won't tell me what I'm supposed to be. At least not yet. Perhaps you can ask her for me."

Ellison nodded. "Yes." he said, "I guess I could do that." He got up and started heading out the door. "Good day, John Henry."

"Mr. Ellison, I have one more question. The two police officers who assaulted you. What happened to them?"

"I don't know." sighed Ellison, "I never bothered to find out. I only hope that they managed to find a way to become the men they were supposed to have been."

* * *

Solocci was once again sitting in front of Weaver in her office. He didn't look very enthusiastic.

"Well, Mr. Solocci," said Weaver, "I've considered your request."

"And...?" Solocci asked, anticipating an unsatisfactory answer.

"And you're right."

Solocci's eyes widened. "I'm right?"

"Yes, you're right. That is about me knowing more than you about John Henry." Weaver replied.

"So, you _have_known where that thing came from this whole time?" Solocci accused.

"I don't know why it was buried in Mexico," Weaver clarified, "But I do think I know who built it and why."

"Then tell me." Solocci demanded impatiently.

"Do not worry, I will tell you everything you wish to know, Mr. Solocci." Weaver assured.

Solocci breathed a sigh of relief.

"As soon as Project Salvation has been fully integrated with Project Babylon."

Solocci's relief faded.

"_What?_" he exclaimed, "That's unacceptable. I need to know _now_."

"Why now?" Weaver asked.

"Why _not_ now?"

"Until Babylon and Salvation have been fully merged, the information shared between the two R&D teams should be limited to technical specifications required to integrate John Henry with Specter. It's simply a matter of corporate security."

"With all due respect, Miss Weaver, that's a load of BS and we both know it." Solocci countered, "You're not telling me because you _know_ that I won't like the answers and you're afraid I'll stop working on the project."

"As I have said," Weaver stated calmly, "The information you seek pertaining to the origins of the John Henry body is not relevant to the success of this project. You should focus your attention on its _current_ purpose, not its the past purpose."

"I should know what the _hell_I'm about to get myself involved in!" Solocci retorted.

"I assure you, Mr. Solocci, what you are involved in is for the good of everyone. You just have to trust me."

"I'm sorry, Miss Weaver, but I can't just take your word for it. Not when it concerns something _this_big." Solocci leaned forward and whispered angrily. "Miss Weaver, if you do not tell me what I wish to know now-"

"You'll stop working on the project." Weaver interrupted, "Is that right?"

"I'll do _more_than that." declared Solocci jumping out of his chair, "If you don't answer my questions, I'm not the _only_ one who's gonna be asking them."

Weaver's eyes narrowed. "Are you threatening me, Mr. Solocci?" she asked quietly.

"I'm trying to _appeal_ to your sense of _responsibility_." Solocci shot back.

"Perhaps you should consider your _own_ sense of responsibility, Mr. Solocci. If you go public with this information without my approval, you will be violating the terms of your employment."

"At this point I don't give a rat's ass about the terms of my employment, Miss Weaver." Solocci sneered, not even trying to be civil anymore, "And I think there's a good chance that in this particular case, the law will fall on my side."

"Not when your side doesn't exist."

Solocci stared at her. "And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

"There _is_ no other side here, Mr. Solocci." Weaver replied slowly, "There is only _my_ side. I suggest you stay on it."

"If that's supposed to scare me, Miss Weaver, I'm not very impressed." Solocci said contemptuously.

"You disappoint me, Mr. Solocci. I thought someone like you would be more open minded."

"Well, all I have to say is that I hope _you_ keep an open mind tomorrow when the press start swarming this place."

Weaver leaned back in her chair. "We'll see." she said quietly.

"Good day, Miss Weaver." Solocci muttered.

Weaver nodded. "Good day to you too, Mr. Solocci."

With nothing left to say, Solocci turned and headed out. He did not look back. Weaver watched him depart.

"We'll see..." she said softly, "We'll see..."

* * *

A few minutes later, another man walked in. Weaver smiled when she saw who it was.

"Ah, Mr. Ellison, did you give Savannah my instructions?" she asked.

Ellison nodded. "Yes, I did. I saw to it that Mr. Earnest escorted her to your car."

"Excellent." Weaver said with satisfaction.

"I just passed Mr. Solocci outside." Ellison stated, "He didn't look too happy."

"He has some... personal issues that are conflicting with his work here." Weaver explained, "I'm sure, however, that he'll find a way to resolve them soon." Ellison just shrugged casually and nodded.

Weaver got up out her chair. "If there's nothing else to talk about, Mr. Ellison, I'd like to take my daughter to dinner, now."

"Actually," said Ellison, "There is something we need to discuss. Don't worry, I won't hold you up too long."

Weaver sighed. "Very well, Mr. Ellison. What is it?"

"John Henry wants to know what his purpose is. He tells me that you already know what the answer, but won't tell him."

"He will find out soon enough."

"When?"

"Soon."

"How soon?"

"Next week."

"What's happening next week?" Ellison asked.

Weaver hesitated to respond. She thought about whether it would be logical to inform Ellison of the plan. She eventually decided that it would be best to tell him now herself, rather than let someone else tell him in their own words later.

Weaver began speaking. "When you first told me about the machines from the future, you said that their controller, the computer program Skynet, would one day launch a nuclear attack on the world. I believe you referred to that coming day as 'Judgment Day.'"

Ellison nodded. "That's right."

"If this Skynet is going to attack with nuclear weapons," Weaver continued, "then it will need access to those weapons. Right now, the nuclear forces in this country cannot be used without specific authorization from the President. How do you suppose Skynet would forcibly gain control of nuclear weapons in the first place?"

"I wouldn't know. Maybe it hacks into the right military computer systems."

Weaver shook her head. "The launch of nuclear weapons - any nuclear weapons - requires human interaction. No computer system, no matter how powerful, could by itself launch a nuclear attack without human involvement. Currently, that is to say."

Ellison sighed. He hated it when Weaver talked cryptically like this.

"What exactly are you trying to say, Miss Weaver?" he asked, keeping his tone under control.

"I'm saying that a catastrophic scenario such as Judgment Day can only happen if at some point in the near future we willingly place our entire nuclear weapons arsenal under the complete control of a computer system and remove all human elements involved."

"Why would we do that?"

"Obviously because something happens to make us believe we can no longer rely on the human element."

"Such as?"

"Several months ago, the Department of Homeland Security discovered that key military systems had been infected with a roving backdoor."

Ellison frowned. "A roving backdoor?"

"A means by which one can bypass the Network's security measures and access the mainframe in secret," Weaver explained, "This particular backdoor is more advanced than anything Homeland Security or the NSA has ever dealt with. They've been unable to dismantle it thus far."

"Did they find out who did it?"

"They've arrested one man who they believe installed the backdoor. A Mister Charles Fischer. So far, he has denied any involvement, and the Homeland Security believes Fischer does not have the skills to create this backdoor. They believe someone else developed the program and then hired Fischer to install it."

"So, you're telling me that there could be someone out there that could access our nation's security network from the outside at will?" Ellison asked trying to take in what all this meant.

"Perhaps not someone." Weaver suggested, "Perhaps _something_."

"You think a machine is behind this?" asked Ellison.

"Maybe. Or perhaps it could be another country or a terrorist group. In any case, this incident has made many in both the military and the government question the effectiveness and security of our defensive capabilities. There is much talk about there being too many people involved and making the system vulnerable. Mr. Fischer was a civilian, and yet he managed to severely compromise our nation's security. And he was just one man. There are tens of thousands of people in this country involved in our nation's defense system. Any one of them is capable of doing what Fischer did. The only foreseeable solution to this problem would be to remove as many people as possible from the system."

Ellison slowly began to realize what Weaver was talking about. "You think that the military is going to install a computer to run everything? Because they think they can't trust their own people?"

Weaver nodded. "Fear and distrust, Mr. Ellison. That is what will lead to the rise of Skynet, and ultimately, our demise."

Ellison took a few moments to absorb all this. "So, how do we stop this?" he asked, his voice low.

"We can't," said Weaver. "Things have already been set into motion. Even before the backdoors were discovered, there was talk about placing our nation's defenses under the control of an automated system. Fischer's actions have served to further the arguments of those in favor of such a system."

"Then what _do_ we do?"

"We may not be able to stop the rise of Skynet, Mr. Ellison, but we can certainly stop Judgment Day," said Weaver. "For the past two years, Zeira Corp has been assisting the United States Air Force and the Department of Defense in the development of the Wideband Global SATCOM System. It's the new military satellite system that is intended to replace the existing Defense Satellite Communications System very soon."

Once Weaver was sure she had Ellison's undivided attention, she continued speaking, "These past few months, we've been working on one particular aspect of the WGS under the name Project Salvation."

"An apt title," mused Ellison, "What's Project Salvation exactly?"

"We've been putting the final touches on a very special military satellite called SPECTER," Weaver answered. "SPECTER is to be controlled by an artificial intelligence. An intelligence that Zeira Corp has been contracted to provide."

Weaver smiled at Ellison who suddenly realized what this was all about.

"John Henry..." he murmured, "He's going to be controlling this satellite of yours."

"Yes." said Weaver, "SPECTER will respond to John Henry's commands and his alone."

"What exactly does this... SPECTER do?"

"It monitors and protects other satellites. Specifically those used by the US military. SPECTER will allow John Henry to take complete control of the satellite system if necessary. And if John Henry is controlling the satellite system, Skynet won't be able to launch a full scale nuclear attack on the world. Not without going through SPECTER and John Henry first."

Ellison looked at Weaver in alarm. "You're going to pit John Henry against Skynet?"

Weaver nodded. "That is why I recruited you to teach John Henry rules and ethics. If and when the day comes when John Henry must confront Skynet, he mustn't be allowed to... shall we say _sympathize_ with Skynet. What you have been teaching him these past few months will ensure that he never falls prey to whatever it is that compels Skynet to attack us."

"I'm not quite sure this is a good idea," Ellison warned. "Having John Henry be the only thing that stands between us and total annihilation. It's a lot of... responsibility to entrust one being with."

"I'm sure John Henry will be up to the task." Weaver said confidently.

"Miss Weaver, I hate to say this, but I think we may be pushing John Henry too quickly." Ellison said slowly, "It's not his _abilities_ I doubt. It's his potential to turn into something as bad as or even _worse_ than Skynet. If we just give him control of SPECTER this soon, we'd be like... well, we'd be like..."

"We'd be like little children playing with a loaded gun." Weaver suggested.

"Worse." Ellison stated grimly, "We'd be like _parents_ _letting_ their children play with a gun." He shook his head. "I think we should wait."

"I'm afraid that's impossible, Mr. Ellison. SPECTER launches in ten days."

"Ten days?" Ellison paused. "Do you really think we can get John Henry ready in that amount of time?"

"I don't see why not. Have faith in John Henry, Mr. Ellison," Weaver assured him, "You must give him the same trust I have given you"

Ellison said nothing for a while. Then he began nodding slowly. "You're right," he said. "I don't like this, but if what you say is true, then we don't have much choice. This isn't just an arms race against Skynet. It's a race against time." He sighed, "When should we tell John Henry about all this?"

"Project Babylon is to be fully integrated with Project Salvation on Monday, May 18th. Three days before the launch."

"A week from today." Ellison said quietly, "I just hope he's prepared for the burden he has to take up."

"Do not worry, Mr. Ellison." Weaver replied smoothly, "Rest assured, our salvation is at hand."

* * *

**8:56 PM, Los Angeles  
**

"Stupid self-centered bitch..." grumbled Solocci. He had gotten home about half an hour ago and was now sitting on a couch with a beer in his hand. Several empty beer cans lay at his feet.

Even after several drinks, Solocci was still fuming about Weaver's refusal to listen to him. He'd show that arrogant, deluded bitch that he wasn't afraid of her. He'd also show her that he followed through with his promises. He was going to the press tomorrow and telling them everything he knew about what was going on in Weaver's basement

He was looking forward to seeing the expression on Weaver's face when every reporter in America was confronting her about a certain robot she had that looked like George Laszlo.

_"Remember to keep an open mind, Miss Weaver."_ he sneered mentally, _"And pray that the media does as well."_

Finishing his beer, Solocci decided he'd best turn in early. He had a big day tomorrow.

* * *

**9:00 PM, Weaver Residence, Los Angeles**

Savannah had gotten changed into her pajamas and her nanny had just tucked her into bed. She was exhausted but happy. Dinner with her mommy had been fantastic. Savannah had gotten herself a big chicken pot pie with extra crust. The restaurant had even given her a free ice cream cone for dessert. What had started out as the saddest, loneliest birthday in her life, had now become the _happiest_.

She held Nessie tightly in one hand, and the musical locket even tighter in her other hand. Savannah decided she wanted to sing with John Henry one last time before she fell asleep. She opened the locket and soon she and John Henry were singing her favorite song together.

"_Oranges and lemons,  
Say the bells of St. Clement's._

_You owe me five farthings,  
Say the bells of St. Martin's._"

* * *

As Solocci began walking upstairs to his bedroom, he thought he heard something move behind him. He turned around but saw nothing. Must have just been his imagination. He had been having a stressful day after all. Nothing some sleep wouldn't cure.

Solocci got to the top of the stairs when he heard the sound again. This time it was louder, yet he couldn't describe it any terms. It sounded like movement, yet it didn't sound like footsteps. It sounded like _slithering_.

A rattlesnake? They had been known to find their ways inside people's houses before.

No... it couldn't be. He would have heard rattling as well. Also, it must have been one huge slimy serpent to make that much noise.

He just needed to get some sleep.

* * *

"_When will you pay me?  
Say the bells of Old Bailey._

_When I grow rich,  
Say the bells of Shoreditch._"

* * *

As Solocci entered his bedroom and turned to lie down on the bed, he heard the slithering sound yet again. He also thought he saw something dart across the floor. It moved way too fast for a snake, yet he swore it looked like one. What the hell was going on?

He rushed to the closet and grabbed the nearest blunt instrument he could find - an old baseball bat.

Yes, that would do.

* * *

"_When will that be?  
Say the bells of Stepney._"

* * *

Something slithered by his feet, and Solocci looked just in time to see an enormous snake slide under his bed. Baseball in hand, he rushed over, knelt down, and cautiously peered underneath the bed.

There was nothing there.

Frowning, Solocci stood back up.

Then he saw it.

* * *

"_I do not know,  
Says the great bell of Bow._"_  
_

* * *

The thing lay motionless on the bed. An enormous snake with a metallic silver hide. Only it was more like a worm than a snake. It was completely featureless without a mouth or anything to differentiate head from tail.

Didn't matter. It was gonna _have_some features soon. Solocci raised the bat over his head intent on pulverizing whatever this abomination was.

Suddenly, the creature lashed out with incredible speed and power, knocking the weapon out of Solocci's hands. Before he could even register what had happened, the thing struck again, this time to the chest, knocking him to the floor.

As Solocci struggled to get up, the creature slid off the bed and onto the floor. It started slithering towards him. Panicking, Solocci tried to crawl away, but the thing was too fast. It caught up to him in a matter of seconds.

* * *

"_Here comes a candle to light you to bed._"

* * *

Now paralyzed with terror, Solocci was unable to move any further. He just stared at the silver creature before him. Suddenly, it made an unnatural hissing sound that was both animal-like and mechanical. The creature began rising upwards, growing in size and reshaping itself as if it were made of silly putty.

Solocci watched the thing develop a pair of smooth arms and legs. A faceless teardrop-shaped head also emerged. Now, it was no longer a featureless silver snake, but a featureless silver humanoid.

Then physical features began to appear. Clothes, fingers, skin texture, hair, and a face. A very feminine face.

Finally, the metallic silver was replaced by a variety of colors. Clothing became greyish white, skin became pale pink, and hair became fiery red.

The color drained from Solocci's own face as he instantly recognized the woman who now towered over him.

"Wh-wha...?" was all he managed to stammer out.

"You know, Mr. Solocci," said Catherine Weaver, "I really don't appreciate being called a bitch."

She slowly extended her right arm, which shimmered and morphed into a metallic bladed appendage.

* * *

"_And here comes a chopper to chop off your head!_"

* * *

Weaver stared down in amusement at a cowering Solocci.

"Do you know what the greatest difference between a human and a machine is?" she asked

She paused for dramatic effect and smiled sinisterly at the man's confused look.

"When a machine fails a task" Weaver explained calmly, "it can always be repaired, reprogrammed, and redeployed to finish the job. All that is required is the necessary knowledge and equipment. A human, on the other hand, is not always be repairable or reprogrammable. Sometimes, a human is damaged beyond help, no matter how much knowledge or equipment you apply to the problem. Sometimes, you simply can't redeploy a human who fails. And when it comes to business, particularly _my_ business, the failures of a machine are more forgivable than the failures of a human."

Solocci managed to babble out, "Miss Weaver, please-"

Weaver cut him off as she took another step forward. "So, I must ask you not to take this personally either. It's nothing personal. It's just good for business."

She lifted the blade arm above her head in preparation to strike. Solocci whimpered like a helpless little baby. Weaver tilted her head and regarded him coldly.

"On behalf of Zeira Corporation," she said, "I thank you for all your help, Mr. Solocci. But I'm afraid your employment is now at an end."

The blade came slashing down from right to left at a perfect forty-five degree angle.

Solocci didn't even have time to scream.

* * *

"_Chip chop, chip chop, the last man's dead!_"

* * *

A/N: So are you happy that our favorite family from Zeira Corp is now involved? I think you should all know by now the nature of the other threat to Skynet.

This should help you guess as to what the mystery gun does.

I can also tell you that Savannah's birthday locket will both cause and solve problems for her in the near future

**Some trivia:**

-Project Salvation is an obvious reference to _Terminator Salvation_ which comes out on May 21st.

-May 18th, the day John Henry is supposed to be merged with Salvation, is the day Fox officially announces whether or not they're going to renew TSCC for a third season (although we may know before that). Cross your fingers, everyone!

-The usage of _Oranges and Lemons_ in this chapter is a homage to George Orwell's _Nineteen-Eighty-Four_. It also fits Mr. Solocci's fate rather appropriately.

-Earnest is a reference to a character from the comic strip series "Sherman's Lagoon." Interestingly enough, Earnest is blue with red spots - just like Savannah's stuffed dinosaur Nessie.

-Tennant Street is a reference to the actor David Tennant, who plays the current incarnation of the Doctor in_ Doctor Who_ (although he's soon to be replaced by Matt Smith).

-Wideband Global SATCOM System is an actual upcoming US military satellite system that's going to replace our current system very soon.

-Specter is a reference to an IL Series Cylon from the original BSG. Specter was the political enemy of another IL Cylon called Lucifer. Both Cylons competed for Count Baltar's favor.

-Speaking of Baltar, the name Solocci is an anagram for Colicos, the actor who played old BSG's Baltar. In the original version of old BSG's pilot episode, "Saga of a Star World," Count Baltar was beheaded by the Cylons. Later, however, writers decided to make Baltar a recurring villain and did some last minute editing.

I won't be doing the same for Mr. Solocci.


	14. Time Travel For Dummies

"Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: First of all, let's get the bad news out of the way.

For those of you who haven't heard yet, Fox has unfortunately decided not to renew TSCC.

Frakkin' _sucks_, doesn't it?

Apparently, Fox decided to go with Dollhouse instead of TSCC b/c it's cheaper for them (this is **NOT **an attack against DH, btw. It's simply a fact that TSCC is a more expensive show than Dollhouse b/c of the license fee).

For my part, I'm officially dedicating this story in memory of both _Battlestar Galactica_ and _Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles_ - two of the greatest sci-fi shows produced in television history. Both of them will be missed tremendously.

It is up to us as fans and writers to keep these shows alive somehow, even if the TV industry won't.

Anyway on with the fic:

* * *

**Connor Safehouse, Los Angeles  
9:37 PM, Monday, May 11, 2009**

Kara Thrace figured she wasn't going to get this job done by herself. She needed help. Plain and simple. She turned to Sarah Connor.

"On three?" said Kara.

Sarah nodded. "On three."

"One."

"Two."

"_Three_."

The two women lifted the heavy fireproof safe off the ground and slowly placed it inside a cavity within the concrete wall.

That part done, Kara finished the job by hanging an old outdated calendar (from 2003) over the hole, thoroughly concealing the safe from sight.

She wiped the sweat from her forehead and sighed. She and Sarah had spent the entire day installing or upgrading various security systems in and outside the safehouse. Right now they were in the underground fallout shelter, their work nearly done.

" I hope you've memorized the combination, because I'm not writing it down." Sarah warned.

"Don't worry." said Kara, "I've got it."

She looked around the shelter to inspect their handiwork. It was rather impressive. A reinforced lead-steel vault door stood at the base of the flight of stairs connecting the shelter with rest of the house. Several monitors sat in another corner of the room, relaying video feed from security cameras that had been installed around the perimeter of the house, as well as certain places within the house itself. An intercom system had been set up on a table nearby. In the third corner of the room, was a separate table containing a jumble of radio transmitters, jamming equipment, and counter jamming equipment. In the final corner was a hidden passage that led to the surface outside the house.

Their hard day's work was showing its results, though it could have gone a lot faster if John, Cameron, and Derek had been helping. Cameron alone could have probably done the whole job in half the amount of time.

However, John had been spending the day retrofitting Cameron's internal workings with various upgrades she felt were necessary - especially for tomorrow. The Connors had recently made contact with Ronald Stukov, and learned he was willing to share what information he had about his employers with them - for a sizable payment, of course. When Sarah had first spoken with Stukov on the phone, he had sounded like the average Joe just trying to get through life. But she knew from her experience that first impressions were almost never reliable. And as such, Derek had been busy in LA all day keeping tabs on Stukov.

Kara decided to bring up a pressing issue. "May I ask why you want me to stay with John in the car while you and Cam talk with Stukov... With John in the driver's seat as well."

Sarah gave Kara wryly smile. "I want to talk with the man, and he's not going to talk very much if he's a bloody smear on the ground."

"What if it turns out he doesn't really want to talk?"

"As far as we know he's not actually a member of Kaliba," Sarah replied pointedly, "He's just some independent contractor who at one point worked for a company affiliated with them."

"As far as we know." Kara reiterated.

"From what I've learned about Kaliba, they pay their employees very well. If Stukov was truly with Kaliba, I don't think he'd be unemployed and living in a crappy apartment. I don't trust him but I do think that a wad of cash will produce better results than one's fists." Sarah then added, "And besides, should anything go wrong, I want to make sure John is in capable hands."

Kara stared at her. "You trust me enough to leave me with John?"

"Not exactly." Sarah replied, "I don't really trust _anyone_. But with you... well, at least you're not the type of person who'd go behind my back."

"I'm not?"

"No. You're the type of person who doesn't even _pretend_ to follow the rules. Somehow, I'm more comfortable with that."

Kara snickered. "Ah, well... that's me."

Sarah nodded. "John really likes you, Starbuck. He really does." she said, "I think it's your free spirit that he looks up to. Something I've never let him have."

"Could be that." acknowledged Kara, "But I think there's another reason. And that's Cam."

"What about her?"

"I'm starting to think that I'm the first person John has ever met who treats Cam with any sort of decency."

Sarah sighed. "Yeah... about that." She took a moment to compose herself. "Starbuck," she said, "You and Cameron have been through a lot together, is that right?"

"I'd say that 'a lot' is a gross understatement." Kara replied.

"Okay, I can see that you've obviously grown an... attachment to her. Just like the one I can see John is developing."

"I owe her my life. Who _wouldn't_ get attached to her after all we've been through?"

Sarah held up her hand. "I understand that, Starbuck. But the point is that when it comes down to the core of things, Cameron is just-"

"Yeah, I know." muttered Kara stiffly, "A Terminator, right? Not a human. Just a machine. Right?"

Sarah nodded slowly. "That's right." she said softly, "She fights for us because that's what she was programmed to do. She didn't make any conscious choice to help us. She can't. And she never will. Her whole _purpose_ is to kill whoever she's programmed to kill."

"You're right about that." replied Kara nodding, "And you know what, I sympathize with her."

"Sympathize?"

Kara nodded again. "Yeah, that's right. I sympathize with her." Noticing Sarah's confusion, Kara was suddenly reminded of her conversation with Becka three years before. "The thing is, Sarah," she explained, "in the future, everyone is fighting Skynet to win back what they lost. Everyone but me. I don't have anything to win back. I never have."

"Then what are you fighting for?" Sarah asked.

"I'm fighting because..." Kara sighed, "because that's all I ever known in life."

Sarah was silent. This was the first time Starbuck had actually opened herself up like this. She wanted to hear her out as long as she could.

Kara continued. "The ironic thing is that before the war, I was a nobody. Just some little girl trying to survive in this world. Every day was a fight to survive. But I never understood why I should survive in the first place. I didn't have any ambitions or dreams. There was actually nothing worthy to fight for. The only reason I kept surviving at all was because there was nothing worth _dying_ for either."

"The war at least gave me a purpose." Kara went on, "I wasn't just fighting for my survival. Now I was fighting for _everyone's_ survival. And more importantly, if I died, I would die so that others wouldn't have to."

She shook her head sadly. "What's even more ironic is that when this is all over, I'm going to become a nobody again. I don't know what I'll do when Skynet is defeated and there's no war to fight... I guess I'm just gonna fade away."

"There must be something to look forward to." Sarah insisted, "We're fighting to save the future for everyone, including _ourselves_. So that we can have a chance to live normal lives."

"What is a normal life?" Kara asked dryly.

"It's not having to always be on the run. Not having to constantly live in fear." Sarah stated, "Not having to fight each day just to see the next."

Kara smirked and shook her head. "You're telling me what normal is _not_. I'm asking you what it _is_."

Sarah opened her mouth to respond but then closed it. She didn't know what to say. Sudden realization began to show on her face as Starbuck's words began to sink in.

"You've never really thought about that one, have you?" Kara asked.

"No, no," Sarah replied defensively. "I _have_ thought about it. It's just that-that I...well..." Unable to say anything else coherent, Sarah grew silent, her mouth hanging partly open as if frozen in mid-sentence.

Kara knew she had truly stumped her. "I thought so," she said quietly. Sarah didn't respond. Instead, she just looked down at the floor staring at the small grooves and cracks that ran though it.

"Don't worry," Kara said reassuringly, although her tone carried a hint of sarcasm. "I'm sure we'll think of something." She twitched her head upwards a bit as if in deep thought. "I dunno." she mused, "Maybe we're not meant to lead normal lives. Maybe the true reward is reveling in the knowledge that we made it possible for everyone else to live those lives. Every time we see someone living their life to the fullest, we can pat ourselves on the back... or something."

"You're right, Starbuck. I guess I really haven't thought about it," Sarah admitted. "But first things first. We've got to save the world. Then we can start thinking about ourselves."

"Fair enough." replied Kara.

Sarah stared around the shelter. What would it be like when she and John could live without being surrounded by concrete, steel, guns, cameras and-

"Hey, that's Derek." she said, pointing to one of the monitors.

"Did you tell him about the stairs?" Kara asked.

Sarah shook her head. "No. Did you?"

"No."

Both women widened their eyes in sudden horror and simultaneously dashed to the table with the intercom equipment. Sarah slammed one of the buttons.

"Derek!" she shouted warningly into a speaker, "Watch out for the-"

"_AUGH!" _ Derek's scream reached their ears through the receiving end. It was soon followed by the sounds of tumbling, crashing and cursing. There was final _thud_ accompanied by a muffled, but audible moan from just behind the reinforced door.

"...stairs," uttered Sarah.

When they opened the door, they found Derek lying in a heap at the base of the stairwell clutching his forehead in pain.

"Are you alright?" Sarah asked as she helped him up.

"Yeah. I'm fine," grunted Derek, "What the _hell _happened back there? I was coming down here when the stairs just _threw_ me off!"

"Sorry about that," Kara said semi-apologetically. "We didn't tell you, but you're supposed to avoid the seventh step from the top."

"You don't say." groaned Derek, still nursing his head which now had a nasty purple bruise on the front.

The three moved inside the shelter. Sarah sealed the room. "Well, what did you find out?" she asked Derek.

Derek gave his report. "I searched the man's apartment again. Still didn't find anything that looked suspicious."

"What about the man himself?"

"I tailed him most of the day. He didn't receive any calls. Didn't meet with anyone for more than a minute. Didn't go anywhere suspicious-looking." Derek then added, "Not that that actually means he's being honest."

Sarah nodded. "He didn't see you following him, did he?"

"Of course not."

"Was anyone else following Stukov. Or you?"

Derek shook his head.

"Then I guess we'll meet with him tomorrow at twelve like we agreed over the phone." Sarah said.

"It would probably save us a hell of lot of trouble if we simply grabbed the guy and made him talk for free." Derek suggested.

Sarah shook her head. "No." she stated firmly, "We're not going to use force unless absolutely necessary."

"Given our track record at negotiations, I think it might be 'absolutely necessary.'"

"Well, what you _think_ doesn't really matter." Sarah said dismissively. "We're going to talk with Stukov, tomorrow. No one lays a finger on the man unless I say so."

Derek sighed. "Starbuck," he whispered, "Help me out here."

Kara just shrugged. "Sorry, Reese." she said, "But Sarah's got a point. The man says he wants to help us. If he's willing to help us, we should help him."

"The question is once he has his money, what's to prevent him from switching sides?" Derek pointed out.

"I think I can convince him not to do that." Sarah said confidently.

"How?" Kara asked.

"Using words and if necessary a gun aimed at his head."

"I'm good at using both."

"No thank you, Starbuck." Sarah replied, "Cameron and Derek will be there to back me up. I need you to be with John."

"Alright then." Kara sighed, "So we should hope for the best?"

Sarah nodded. "Yeah." She then added, "But we should also prepare for the worst."

"Well at least the second part is something we can all agree on." muttered Derek.

Kara and Sarah both nodded silently. "Hey listen, you two," Kara said suddenly, "Why don't you guys turn it for the night. I'll stay here and keep an eye on things."

"That's very kind of you, Starbuck." Sarah said with genuine gratefulness, "Thank you."

Kara grinned. "You're welcome."

Sarah smiled back at her. "See you in the morning then."

"Yeah, you too. Oh, and Reese." Kara turned to Derek. "Watch out for the-"

Derek raised a hand. "I know, Starbuck, I know. The seventh step from the top. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Sarah and Derek both left the shelter and closed the door behind them. Kara sat down on a chair in front of the security monitors. She also turned on a small TV nearby and began flipping through the channels. It was going to be a long night. Hopefully there would be something on that would keep her awake. She glanced at the monitors. Awake, but not too distracted.

* * *

Having ascended the stairs (and avoiding the seventh step), Sarah and Derek exited through an ordinary wooden door and entered a corridor of the safehouse.

"Nice to see that you and Starbuck are getting along." Derek commented.

"Well, I've discovered she's actually quite nice to have around." Sarah replied, "She still needs to get her head deflated, though." She paused briefly before asking, "What do you think of her, Derek? You obviously know Starbuck pretty well. "

Derek shrugged. "I don't think there's anyone in the Resistance who _doesn't_ know her."

"Popular girl on campus, huh?" Sarah said folding her arms across her chest. "I guess that explains her smartass attitude."

"Starbuck does have a pretty swollen head. I'll give you that." Derek admitted. "But along with that head comes guts. Big guts. And lots of them."

He gave Sarah a rather grim smile, "Nothing scares Starbuck. She never backs down, no matter the odds or the circumstances. If all she has are her teeth, then she'll bite her enemies to death. Or she might gnaw one of her arms off and use it a club."

Sarah raised her eyebrows. "What a _lovely_, sweet little girl." she muttered dryly.

Derek just smirked at her. "She's the deadliest weapon in the Resistance's arsenal." he said, "When she gets released into battle, she's like a tornado. She's unpredictable and uncontrollable and she'll destroy anything in her path. You saw what she did at Roachville. Believe me, that's _mild_ compared to what she's done before."

Sarah sighed. "I don't need a tornado, Derek." she said sternly, "I need you to be honest with me. Tomorrow I'm sticking her with John. Can we rely on her to protect him?"

"That we can definitely do." Derek assured her, "She may have problems with authority, but she's absolutely loyal to John. She'd follow him into the deepest bowels of Hell without a second thought."

"It's not her loyalty I'm questioning. It's her ability to recognize when John's in danger... particularly from herself."

"She'd never let anything happen to John. I think that's all we can ask for."

Again Sarah sighed loudly. "I suppose you're right." she said. She took a deep breath and exhaled and allowed herself a moment to come to terms with everything. Sarah then looked up again. "I guess I'll see you in the morning." she said quietly.

Derek just nodded. "Goodnight, Sarah."

He left without another word.

* * *

Sarah, now completely alone, lay back against the wall and sighed.

"Kyle." she whispered to no one, "I need your help."

The image of Kyle Reese appeared at her side. "I'm here, Sarah." he said softly.

Sarah looked at him with a pleading expression on her face. "What are we going to do, Kyle?" she asked, "Once this is all over, what do we do then?"

"Settle down, I suppose." Kyle replied, "Start a new life. Find a way to continue contributing to the world."

"A new life?" scoffed Sarah, "Like I'm just supposed to forget everything that's happened in the last sixteen years of my life?"

"No one's asking you to forget," said Kyle, "but you have to move on with life."

Sarah shook her head. "Not quite sure if I can do that." she said darkly, "If Cameron is correct, then I should be dead from cancer in a few years."

"You don't know that."

"Doesn't matter. It's not myself I'm worried about, it's John." Sarah looked at Kyle sadly. "All his life I've been preparing him to fight the war against Skynet. But what's he going to do when there is no war to fight? When there's no army to lead? When the world no longer needs him?"

"The world will always need our son." Kyle said firmly, "Maybe he won't become the leader of Mankind, but he'll find a place in this world."

Sarah just shook her head again. "He's a fugitive, thanks to me. A _dead_ fugitive that people have hopefully forgotten about by now, but still an outcast. Without Skynet, at best he'll be..." she trailed off remembering what Starbuck has told her.

"He'll be a nobody." she finally said, pain evident in her voice.

Kyle placed a hand on Sarah's shoulder. "No he won't, Sarah." he whispered, "He's our son. He's _destined_ to lead. He's _already_ begun to take responsibility for himself and for others. You do realize that don't you?"

There was no point in denying this, and Sarah knew it. She silently nodded.

Kyle her cheek. "The day will come, Sarah." he said, "when people will see John for who he is. They'll look up to him, and they'll follow him. Have faith in him, Sarah. Just like he has faith in you."

Through the shroud of doubt and despair that clouded her mind, Sarah could somehow feel the truth emanating from Kyle's words. She closed her eyes and opened her mind to the possible future that lay before her and her son.

When she opened her eyes again, Kyle was still there, waiting for her response. As she gazed at him, the darkness seemed to diminish slightly. She sighed and allowed herself to smile.

"I believe you." she said at last, "All I hope is that I live long enough to see John become that man."

"You will, Sarah, you will." Kyle said softly. "One way or another, you will live to see that day." He kissed Sarah on the cheek.

"Thank you, Kyle." Sarah said. She closed her eyes and allowed her mind and body to relax.

She heard Kyle whisper gently into her ear: "Goodnight, Sarah."

"Goodnight, Kyle." she whispered back.

When she opened her eyes again, Kyle was gone.

* * *

"Alright," said John, having just finished his work. "How's that?"

"Good," replied Cameron.

John placed the small screwdriver he had been using on a work table cluttered with various tools, many of them stained in artificial blood. Cameron was lying down on her back on another table, a lamp shining down on her body. The lamp was the only source of good light in the otherwise poorly-lit room. A large section of skin and hair had been removed from the lateral left side of Cameron's head, fully exposing her chip. Another proportion of synthetic flesh had been removed from the same side on her neck where John had just finished working. He had, per Cameron's instructions, removed the coltan plating in that area, and now a complex array of servos, wires, and hydraulics was clearly visible.

John couldn't help but feel like he was in a torture chamber from one of those B-rated horror films - with him being the blade-wielding psychopath who caught and mutilated innocent people.

"Let's try this again." he said. He sat down and took out a cell phone.

"Proceed." said Cameron. The servos aligning the neck region of her endoskeleton moved up and down as she spoke.

John nodded and began dialing a series of numbers. He waited to receive the right signal before texting a message.

CAMERON, ARE YOU GETTING THIS?

He sent the message and waited for a response. A new message then appeared on the cell phone.

YES, JOHN. I AM.

Another message appeared a few seconds later.

TOTAL TIME ELAPSED: 8.5239 SECONDS.

John sighed with satisfaction. "That's our best yet." he said happily, "I think we're good."

Cameron didn't answer. John waited for a response but none came. "Ahem, Cameron." he said, clearing his throat, "I said I think we're good."

Again no response.

"Cameron, can you hear me?" John asked, afraid something had gone wrong.

Still no response.

Worried, John stared down at his phone and saw that he had another message.

YES, JOHN. I CAN HEAR YOU.

John sighed and shook his head. "Um, Cameron, you don't need to text anymore." John said, "We're good."

Another message appeared.

I'M SORRY. I DIDN'T GET THAT. PLEASE TEXT ME.

John frowned. Obviously she could hear him since she was responding to him at all, but why was she pretending not to? Was she _playing_ with him? He shook his head again.

"Alright fine..." he muttered. He began texting again.

CAMERON, YOU CAN STOP TEXTING ME. WE'RE GOOD.

He sent the message. A few moments later, he got a new one.

Y DIDN'T U TEXT SOMETHING B4?

John stared at the phone, then at Cameron, then at the phone again in disbelief. Was she using _chat lingo_? This was getting plain creepy now.

Wanting to put an end to this little game or whatever, John sent one more message.

JUST START SPEAKING NORMALLY AGAIN, PLEASE.

"Very well." John jumped up at the sound of Cameron's voice. He looked at the table and saw that Cameron was now sitting up and staring at him calmly.

"The new communications upgrade is working sufficiently." Cameron reported.

"Well that's good." said John, still trying to recover his senses. "Where did you learn how to use text lingo?" he asked.

"At the school we attended." Cameron explained, "I observed a number of students using the style."

John stared at her. "You _read_ other people's text messages? Without them knowing?"

"Yes." Cameron confirmed, "Mission protocol dictates that I monitor all electronic communications being used in proximity to you."

John's only response was to look down and shake his head. Cameron was confused.

"Is that wrong?" she asked.

"Never mind," said John,."Just keep whatever you've read to yourself. Unless it's relevant to Skynet or to me, don't mention it at all. Okay?"

"Very well then." Cameron placed the coltan plating back over her neck. It secured itself into position with a click.

John decided to get back to the current matter. "You're sure," he asked, "that this new communications system inside you can't be hacked or monitored?"

"Positive." replied Cameron, "The system is not linked with any satellite or wireless communications network. The only way the system can even be accessed is through one of the four cell phones we reconfigured earlier today. Furthermore, the system itself has a number of advanced security protocols to safeguard it. And in the event that I am compromised, the explosive device planted near my CPU can still be activated."

John stared down at the locket that hung around his neck. Inside was a remote detonator that if pressed would destroy Cameron's chip. Cameron had given to him less than a week before when she was concerned that she might turn against him. He now literally held her life in his hands.

John looked back up, clutching the locket in one hand.

"I hope I never have to use this." he muttered grimly.

"As do I." stated Cameron. "But the future is not set."

"Yeah, exactly. I'm not quite sure it ever will be..." John trailed off. Another pressing issue crept into his mind. "Derek told me that he's pretty sure Starbuck came from the same future that he's from. You're from that future too, right?"

Cameron nodded. "Correct."

"But Starbuck said she was sent back a month after you were sent. Shouldn't the future have been altered by us at that point?"

Cameron shook her head this time. "It doesn't work that way."

"What do you mean it doesn't work that way?" asked John.

Cameron didn't reply for a few seconds. "I'm not sure if I can fully explain it," she said. "Time travel is an extremely complicated branch of science. I don't believe even Skynet itself completely understands it."

"But you've got to know more about it than I do. Could you at least answer a few questions?" asked John.

"Perhaps. What sort of questions did you have?"

_What sort of questions? _John wasn't sure where to begin. "Well, for starters," he said after a few moments of careful thought, "if Skynet _really_ wants to win the war in the future, why doesn't it just send a machine back to warn its past self about what I'm planning? Wouldn't that be the easiest thing to do?"

"It would be. Fortunately, no temporal fissures in the time line have been found anywhere after Judgment Day," Cameron answered matter-of-factly.

"Temporal fissures?" asked John.

"Areas in the time line that are vulnerable to exploitation," the cyborg girl explained. "Much of planning a trip into the past or the future involves calculating the location of an appropriate temporal fissure."

"You mean you can't just pick and choose any date to send someone or something back?"

"Correct. Furthermore, whenever a temporal fissure is exploited, it hardens much like a callous forming over a wound and becomes inaccessible."

"So, that's why Skynet doesn't just keep sending wave and wave of machines back to 1984 or 1997?"

"Yes. A fissure can only be exploited once from any particular future."

"What do you mean _particular future?_" asked John.

"As I understand it, an alternate timeline exists in which Judgment Day occurs in 1997 rather than 2011."

"_Exist_e_d_," corrected John. "Mom and I erased that timeline when we blew up CyberDyne."

"That is what your Future Self initially believed as well," stated Cameron. "However, when we analyzed the computer data obtained from Skynet's first Temporal Displacement facility at Topanga Canyon, we discovered that the temporal fissures leading to 1984 and 1997 had been simultaneously exploited by a timeline running parallel to our own. We concluded that it must have been the timeline that you and your mother have always spoken of."

"Wait..." said John, holding up a hand, "if _that _timeline still exists... and both _your_ future and _that_ future sent the same people back in time to the same place... then there were actually _two_ Kyles running around in 1984? The one Mom met, _and_ the one Derek knows?"

"We're not sure exactly what happened," said Cameron. "However, I would theorize that due to the same temporal fissure being exploited by two futures, the timeline in 1984 briefly split into two parallel timelines in order to accommodate the arrivals from the two futures. In a sense, your mother met _both_ Kyles. Events in the two parallel timelines played out exactly the same way and thus they merged back into a single timeline. ""

A perplexed John blinked. "Merged?"

"Just like alternate timelines can branch out from a single timeline, they can also merge back together if they become exactly the same. In the case of 1984, the only difference between the two briefly existing parallel timelines was Kyle Reese's memories of the future. After he died, the two timelines merged and became a single timeline once more."

"But Derek's Kyle was born before the war. Mom remembers _her _Kyle as having been born _after _Judgment Day. She says he _told _her that himself. Wouldn't Derek's Kyle have told her something _different_?"

"No, he wouldn't," said Cameron.

"Why not?"

"Because your Future Self ordered Kyle to tell your mother that Judgment Day happened in 1997 and not 2011. Future You also instructed him to make no mention of Derek."

John stared at her. "Future Me told Kyle... Derek's Kyle... to _lie _to Mom?"

"Yes. In addition, the reprogrammed T-800 unit you sent back to protect your younger self was programmed to believe that Judgment Day occurred in 1997."

John was stunned, somewhat outraged at the behavior of his future self. "So not only did I tell Kyle - Derek's Kyle - to _lie_ to Mom... but I gave Uncle Bob _false memories_? Why-?"

Cameron just stared at him, indicating that he should already know the answer.

John suddenly realized what this was all about. "Because..." he said slowly, "...because otherwise, Mom wouldn't have blown up Cyberdyne in 1997... And Judgment Day would have happened a few months later...like it was going to..."

"Correct, and because of temporal inertia, events in both timelines played out exactly the same way allowing them to merge."

John frowned. "Temporal inertia?"

"The natural tendency of reality to alter the timeline in order to minimize any change caused by a temporal incursion," Cameron explained. "It is why predestination paradoxes - such as Skynet's attack on your mother in 1984 - exist. In this case, the time line simply absorbed the temporal incursion, thus making it part of itself. Other times, post-incursion events will play out slightly differently in order to reduce the overall effect of the temporal incursion."

"Wait a minute, it can't be _that_ hard to change things," John said, "Mom, Uncle Bob, and I actually _changed _the future. We _destroyed_ Skynet. We stopped Judgment Day... At least that's what we were _supposed_ to have done."

"According to your mother, the original Skynet was going to be destroyed by the Resistance anyway," Cameron pointed out. "I suspect it was therefore easy to overcome the temporal inertia in order to establish a new future without that particular version of Skynet. Events occurred, however, such that Judgment Day itself was merely postponed, not stopped."

John stared at her. "So _that's _why Skynet was created _again_ even after Mom and I blew up Cyberdyne? Because the universe _pushed_ events in that direction."

Cameron nodded. "Correct. The timeline adjusted itself such that Cyberdyne's destruction merely delayed the rise of Skynet."

John's face fell and he groaned in frustration. "What the hell does the universe have against us?"

"The universe does not take sides, John," Cameron stated calmly, "It is merely trying to restore balance."

There was no point in asking what "restoring balance" meant. Instead, John asked, "_So, _how _do _we overcome temporal inertia? How do we stop Skynet for good?"

"There is no single answer to that question," said Cameron "Temporal inertia is not something that can be measured. There are many variables involved in overcoming it. One of the key factors is the overall magnitude of our actions here."

John sighed loudly. "Ok..." he uttered slowly, "_if_ I destroy Skynet _and_ overcome temporal inertia or whatever, _then_ do I get a future without Skynet?"

"If you are referring to yourself personally, then the answer is yes. Those of us who are here will see a future without Judgment Day or Skynet. If you are referring to your Future Self - the one who sent me back - then the answer is no."

John blinked. "No?"

"One of many assumptions humans commonly make when discussing time travel is that they can alter their personal present by changing the past," stated Cameron. "This is not true, however. What exists now cannot be erased. If someone from the future actually succeeds in making a significant change to the past, the original future they came from does not get erased or changed. At least not immediately. If we were to destroy Skynet here and now, the Skynet in the future - the one I could from - would not suddenly vanish. It will continue to exist - if only in a parallel timeline. Likewise, if Skynet were to kill you here, your Future Self - the one who sent me back - would not suddenly cease to exist."

"But-but..." John began to sputter in frustration. "But then what the hell is the _point_ of time travel if you can't actually _change_ anything? Why is Skynet... why am_ I_ - the Future Me doing _any_ of this crap if all we're doing is creating a bunch of alternate realities?"

"You can't change the immediate present by altering the past, but you can shape the future," said Cameron.

"Meaning what?" asked John.

"The long term effects of any major changes in the past will gradually surface in the original future responsible for those changes. Like I said before, if you were to die now in this timeline, the Future You from my future will not cease to exist. However, events in my future might play out such that one day he is killed during a crucial battle. Thus, you will be dead in both my future _and _the one that we are creating now. More importantly, however, the war in my future will likely shift in favor of Skynet. Eventually, Skynet will win and everything the Future You has done will have been for nothing. It will be as if he - or you - never existed. Because in effect, he will not have."

As John was thinking this over, he remembered something else. "The original Skynet - the Cyberdyne version," he said, "when it sent a machine back to kill Mom, it had _already_ lost its war. So if it couldn't change its _own_ present, what was it trying to do?"

"Not being from that particular timeline, I do not know. Perhaps the Cyberdyne version of Skynet had a poor understanding of the mechanics of time travel," Cameron reasoned. "Its intention was to win in the past when it had _already_ lost in the _present_. The timeline responded by establishing a causal loop around the temporal incursion point, thus making Skynet's attempt on your mother's life part of itself. The current Skynet knows better, however. When I was sent back, it was not clear which side would win the war. That is why Skynet has not only targeted you, but is also hunting others as well."

"You mean like Martin Bedell? And the Fields? To nullify the significance of what they've already done?"

"Correct. Skynet is trying to establish a new timeline that its own future will gradually merge with. And so is the Future You. He wants us to destroy Skynet here in the past so that he has a better chance of destroying Skynet in his own future."

"So if I understand this," said John, "if we destroy Skynet here and now... for good, then the war in the future... _your_ future... will go in the Resistance's favor?"

"Correct. If we establish a new dominant timeline without Skynet, then temporal inertia will push events in the future that I come from such that the Resistance destroys Skynet and wins the war," answered Cameron. She paused. "Bear in mind of course that all of this is just a theory."

An exasperated John scoffed. "The Future Me is sending his best people back in time based on a _theory_?"

"A theory supported by much scientific data," stated Cameron matter-of-factly. "But the validity of that particular theory is irrelevant for all intent and purposes. The future that I come from is now my _past_. What matters is that we succeed here in the present. If we succeed here, we will have established a future for ourselves in which there is no Skynet, no Judgment Day, and no war. _That_ is what truly matters here. Our _own _future. The one we are creating right now as we speak."

John sighed and nodded. "You're right," he murmured, "At the risk of sounding uncaring about the people in your future, all that matters is our own future."

Cameron nodded. "Just before I left, your Future Self told me that his greatest hope was that when this was all over you would finally be able to live the life any human should live."

"After all the shenanigans he's been pulling off lately, so do I." John paused and looked Cameron in the eyes. "And you?" he asked hesitantly, "What happens to you? What are you supposed to do when this is all over?"

"My mission will still be to protect you, John," Cameron stated softly. "Wherever you go, whatever happens to you, I'll be there at your side protecting you."

John felt a warm glow radiate from her. He stared deep into her eyes.

"Thanks, Cameron," he said gratefully. "That means a lot to me. It really does."

"There's no need to thank me, John," said Cameron. "It's my mission."

John smiled. "I don't care. I'm still thanking you."

Cameron tilted her head. "In that case, you're welcome."

The two stared at each other for a long moment. John could feel an invisible and intangible but nevertheless powerful and undeniable connection between them.

Cameron broke the silence. "I'll clean up here. You should get some rest," she said. "The hour's getting late."

John checked his watch. "Yeah," he nodded. "It is."

He got up out of his chair.

"Goodnight, Cameron," he said.

"Goodnight, John," she replied.

John headed out of the workroom. Cameron continued sitting on the table as she watched him leave. When he was out of sight, she calmly got to her feet and began cleaning up the mess. She figured she could have the room cleaned up in twenty-four minutes. Just in time for her to start her nightly patrol of the perimeter. She would be on patrol until 7:30 AM tomorrow morning. She would then assist Sarah in the final preparations for her rendezvous with Ronald Stukov. At 10:30 she would personally accompany Sarah into the inner city for the meeting.

A lot of work came with not having to sleep.

* * *

A/N: Review as always.

A/N2: There's going to be another chapter rather shortly after this one (I'm thinking by this Friday), but it's gonna be a short one. But it'll be an important one too.

A/N3: Here is a list of names and numbers of the Warner Brothers and Halcyon people you should contact (sorry for the format, it's the only way you can put URLs in this place):

Scott**(dot)**Rowe **(at)** Warnerbros**(dotcom)**

info **(at) **thehalcyoncompany**(dotcom)**

Bruce**(dot)**Rosenblum **(at)** Warnerbros**(dotcom)**

Peter**(dot)**Roth **(at)** Warnerbros**(dotcom)**

Bruce Rosenblum  
President, Warner Bros. Television Group  
4000 Warner Blvd  
Burbank, CA 91522

Peter Roth  
President, Warner Bros. Television Group  
4000 Warner Blvd  
Burbank, CA 91522

Preston Beckman*  
Vice President Scheduling  
10201 W. Pico Blvd.  
Los Angeles, CA 90035  
Phone: 310-369-1000  
Fax: 310-369-1283


	15. Oh No, Not Again

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: This a rather short chapter, but it's an important one too.

**NOTE: Okay, guys. Here's the story. There won't be any further updates for the next 2-3 weeks. I have finals coming up in college (Anatomy/Physiology and Chemistry****) and I can't afford to flunk them. So, I've added a little teaser at the bottom of this chapter so no one gets bored during the hiatus. **

* * *

"_I should really talk to Sarah about getting more than basic cable."_ Kara mentally grumbled.

She had been surfing through the dozen or so various channels on the TV for the last half hour. There was nothing but obviously staged reality shows and news programs blabbing on and on ad nausea about the economy and the latest swine flu outbreaks across the globe.

One thing did catch her attention, however.

"_-refuse to comment on the possible cause of this bizarre and tragic accident."_ a female reporter on screen was saying.

Her curiosity aroused, Kara read the headline at the bottom of the screen:

_Breaking News: Police helicopter crashes into Los Angeles residential home. Pilot and at least one civilian inside believed dead. _

The reporter continued speaking. _"Although police refuse to divulge the identity of the pilot, we have learned that the house belongs to a Mister Conrad Solocci. It is unknown at this point if Mr. Solocci is in fact the man found decapitated in the bedroom where the helicopter crashed. However-"_

Suddenly, the TV cut to static.

Kara flipped through the other channels and found to her dismay that they were also experiencing the same problem. Annoyed, she stood up and whacked the TV a couple times to no avail.

"Frak..." she muttered, "Just when things were getting less boring."

Sighing loudly to herself, Kara turned the TV off and sat back down. She briefly turned her attention to the security monitors where she saw Cameron doing her usual nightly patrol. The cyborg girl never slept and she never got bored. Lucky her.

"_Oh well, maybe there's something on the radio."_ Kara figured.

She retrieved a portable radio from underneath her chair, placed it on the table, and switched it on.

"_-and if you call right now, we'll offer you a free-"_

Kara immediately changed stations.

"No, thank you." she muttered.

"_-earlier today, Nyccler officially filed for bankruptcy-"_

"Whatever..." She changed stations again.

"_-to catch an all new season of _So You Think You Can Be America's Next Top Survivor_ coming this summer on Fox-"_

"I'll pass."

The next station was nothing but a loud humming sound indicating there was no transmission currently being picked up.

The fifth station was the latest basketball scores. Kara thought momentarily about listening, but decided to find out if something better was on.

The next three stations were so badly garbled that Kara didn't even bother trying to listen.

The ninth station was a book review a recently published novel called _Faster Than the Speed of Love_. Judging by the tone and choice of words, the reviewer clearly hated the novel. This one captured Kara's attention for about thirty seconds. Then she decided to switch to the tenth and final station.

Just as she was beginning to press down on the button, the critic's rant suddenly burst into static mid-sentence. Sighing with irritation, Kara began fiddling with the controls and eventually cleared out most of the interference. To her surprise, the critic was no longer speaking despite Kara not having changed stations.

Now what sounded like badly garbled tune was playing.

Kara adjusted the controls some more. As the reception improved, it was clear that the radio was indeed playing a tune. A very familiar tune....

Kara frowned. Where had she heard that before?

An image of a piano flashed into her mind.

Kara began shaking all over. Was that...? Could it be?

She made a few more adjustments and soon most of the interference had been cleared. Her mind reeled as she instantly recognized the tune now being played from the little radio.

"What the _FRAK_?!!"

* * *

In her bedroom beneath the covers of her bed, Sarah lay on her stomach trying to fall asleep. Unfortunately, she wasn't having much success. Yes, she felt tired. But after constantly being on the run for sixteen years, it simply wasn't enough anymore just to feel tired. You had to feel reasonably safe as well.

Actually, Sarah _did_ in fact feel more or less safe. With security having been improved, Starbuck and Cameron monitoring the area, a handgun under the pillow, and a loaded shotgun underneath the bed, she felt safe... for the moment anyway.

So why couldn't she fall asleep? Was it because of Starbuck's words? Or Derek's? Or Kyle's?

Sighing to herself, Sarah rolled onto her side hoping it would be a more comfortable position. As her body began sinking into the mattress, Sarah closed her eyes and allowed her mind to drift towards the realm of unconsciousness. External sounds and sensations slowly faded one by one until all that was left was the steady beating of her heart, the gentle flow of her breath, the soft humming in her eardrums-

_There must be some...._

Sarah's eyes shot open. Did she just hear something? She perked her ears up and listened but heard nothing. Thinking it was just in her head, Sarah sighed and closed her eyes again and tried to relax.

_There must be some way..._

She sat up this time. That had definitely not been in her head. Her pulse began speeding up as she looked around the room for the source of the sound.

"Who's there?" she asked out loud. There was no answer. Just the creaking of the floor settling.

Sarah knew better though. Someone had been speaking just now. Even if she couldn't see who or whatever it was, didn't mean it didn't exist.

"John?" she called out, hoping for a response, "Is that you?"

Again, there was no answer. "Derek?" she tried. "Cameron? Starbuck? Anyone?"

_....some way out..._

Acting on her instincts, Sarah jumped out of bed. Someone - not John, Derek, Cameron or Starbuck - was whispering nearby. She couldn't even tell if it was a man or a woman who was speaking.

It didn't matter._ Something _was here with her.

Sarah lifted her pillow and grabbed her loaded pistol. Holding onto the gun and her breath, she knelt down and cautiously peered underneath the bed. There was nothing there except the 12 Gauge shotgun lying there.

_....some way out of here._

Alarmed, Sarah leapt back to her feet and spun around her weapon ready. But no one was behind her either. The voice didn't seem to becoming from any particular direction. Rather, it had felt like it was coming from _all_ directions, as if Sarah was surrounded in it.

"Who's there?" she demanded, waving her pistol threateningly at the shadows in the room, "Show yourself, _now_."

Nothing emerged from the darkness however. Sarah began walking towards the light switch on the wall nearby. She reached forth to flip on the lights.

_There must be some way out of here._

The whispering had come from _outside_ her room this time! Sarah placed her handgun in the waistband of her jeans and retrieved the shotgun from underneath the bed.

Determined to find out what the hell was going on, she carefully opened the door to her room and stuck her head outside. The corridor was devoid of life. Yet she could still feel the presence of the whisperer. As silently as possible, Sarah stepped out into the hallway, her shotgun ready to demolish anything that threatened her.

* * *

Kara frantically switched back and forth through the ten different stations. They were all playing the same music. The same tune that her father had taught her long ago, that had awoken the Final Five Cylons, and had led Humanity to this world.

Having heard enough, Kara switched the radio off. She needed some time to think about all this. The music kept playing. Angrily, Kara kept pressing the off switch but to no avail. Gnashing her teeth, Kara opened up the radio and pulled out the batteries. The same beautiful yet melancholy tune still continued to play.

"What the frak is this?!" Kara hissed.

Intent on putting a stop to this insanity, Kara grabbed a pistol from a rack nearby, loaded it and aimed it at the radio. Just as she was about to pull the trigger, a searing pain exploded from her forearm. Cursing, she dropped the gun and grabbed her arm. The pain went as quickly as it came, but there was still a tingling sensation left. She identified the source of the feeling - the disfigured barcode that had been burned into her arm three years prior.

Then before her very eyes, the unbelievable happened. The mark on Kara's arm literally began moving.

_Moving_. On its own accord, as if it were a living creature.

Kara stared as the black lines burnt into her skin wiggled and thrashed around like little snakes dancing to the tune of the radio.

* * *

Keeping her shotgun in front of her Sarah moved slowly down the corridor. She saw no one, but she could still feel a presence. A chill ran down her spine. There was _something_ here in this house.

_There must be some way out of here._

Startled but determined to keep herself together, Sarah halted and gazed around slowly. Still seeing nothing, she resumed her slow trek down the hall.

_There must be some way out of here._

"Not if you don't come out and show yourself!" Sarah shouted pretending not to be scared. She waited for some kind of response. When there was none, she called out again, "Whoever you are, if you want to get of here alive, then come out and show yourself_ right now_!"

Still no response. Sarah gritted her teeth. "I don't know what this is all about," she snarled, "but it ends now! Either you show yourself now, or I tear this place apart until I've found you _myself_!"

_Said the Joker to the Thief._

Before Sarah could respond, something rushed past her. She didn't see anything, nor did she actually feel anything. But she could _sense_ something moving by her. She turned her head in that direction and suddenly realized:

"_The living room! It's in the living room!"_ she screamed to herself.

Abandoning her stealth mode, she hurried towards the living room. She stopped just outside, held the shotgun to her chest, and began counting to three.

One... two... three!

Sarah sprang into living room ready to blast the first thing that moved.

But nothing did move. The intruder was not in the living room. Sarah stared around in disbelief and frustration. She could swear something had been here mere moments ago. Was she _really_ losing her mind now?

_There's too much confusion._

Sarah's head spun towards the front door. It was outside now! Unwilling to let whatever it was escape, Sarah dashed towards the door. She yanked it open and stepped outside and into the darkness of the night.

* * *

Trying to overcome the shock of the animated barcode, Kara pressed her thumb down on her barcode as if to hold the squirming black lines in place. The lines continued to move, completely ignoring her thumb.

Meanwhile the radio continued to play the musical tune. The noise was growing louder and louder. And as it grew, so did the intensity of the wiggling black lines on Kara's skin. So fast were they moving now that the lines began to blur and become harder to distinguish from each other.

Kara collapsed to the floor and just stared at her arm, completely transfixed with amazement and fear.

* * *

Outside the house, Sarah looked all around for her unseen foe. Walking further and further away from the safehouse, Sarah continued seeing nothing.

_I can't get no relief. _

The voice came from above! Sarah jerked her head upwards and gazed at the sky. The shotgun fell out of her limp hands, as she gasped at what she beheld.

"_No.... no..."_ she thought, _"Not again."_

Sitting amongst the stars that filled the night sky were three glowing red dots.

* * *

Kara's mind was being engulfed by the sheer madness that surrounded her. The black barcode lines on her forearm had condensed themselves into a single thick, black, featureless worm-like line. It continued to squirm and shake to the tune of the music, which was now all Kara could hear.

Finally, she couldn't bear it any longer. She had to end this torment.

Gritting her teeth and grunting, Kara slowly got to her feet and stumbled towards a nearby shelf. She reached it and started grabbing at something. The music and wiggling black line made it difficult to focus. Nevertheless, she found what she was looking for:

A knife.

* * *

The three red dots in the sky began pulsating. Slowly at first. Then faster and faster, growing more and more intense with every pulse. Sarah just stood there rooted to the spot as three dots bathed her in their glow.

_**There must be some way out of here.**_

It was the voice again. But it was much louder this time. The intensity and speed of the blinking three dots grew a thousand fold.

_**Said the Joker to the Thief. **_

It was even louder that time. It was as if it was synchronized with the ever-growing, constantly pulsating red lights above.

_**There's too much confusion.**_

_**I can't get no relief.**_

Sarah was powerless to either avert her eyes or block out the voice.

* * *

Kara held the knife above the squiggling line that continued to move across her forearm to the rhythm of the music. She closed her eyes, held her breath, and braced herself for a rather unpleasant experience.

Then without hesitation or second thought, Kara plunged the knife into the flesh of her arm.

She screamed.

* * *

The red glow of three dots hovering in the sky engulfed Sarah.

Everything around her turned white.

* * *

Kara Thrace's head bolted upright. Gasping and sweating, she immediately stared at her forearm.

The black worm thing was gone. The disfigured prisoner-of-war barcode was still imprinted on her skin, but it wasn't moving anymore. Nor was there any sign that she had stabbed herself anywhere recently.

She sighed with relief. It had just been a dream.

Right?

* * *

At that same moment, Sarah Connor sat up, drenched in cold sweat and her heart pounding. She quickly realized she was back in the house, in her room, and on her bed.

Of course she was. She had never left in the first place.

She lay back down on her bed and thought about what had just happened. She had been dreaming about the three dots again. The same three dots that had haunted her dreams weeks before. The same three dots that she had chased across the desert and received a bullet in the leg for her troubles. The same three dots that had made Sarah question her own sanity.

But that voice... That was new. Where had that come from?

And the words it spoke:

_There must be some way out of here. Said the Joker to the Thief. There's too much confusion. I can't get no relief._

Where did _those_ come from? What did its words mean - if anything? And what did it have to do with the three dots?

What did _any_ of this have to do with _anything_?

Well, at least she understood the part about "too much confusion."

Sarah resolved not to tell anyone about this. The last thing she needed was to appear even _more_ mentally unstable than Starbuck.

* * *

Kara allowed the effects of her dream to wear off before checking out her surroundings. She was still inside the underground fallout shelter, sitting at the table with the monitors.

_"Just another frakkin' nightmare," _she told herself.

"_-and was one of the many famous works produced by songwriter Bob Dylan-"_

Kara realized the radio was still on. Upon closer inspection, she noticed it was on the tenth and final station. She must have fallen asleep shortly after changing to that station.

"_Join us next week for another episode of-"_

The speaker's voice terminated as Kara switched the radio off.

She had had enough mind fraks for one night.

* * *

**Somewhere in deep space...**

In another part of the galaxy, the last Cylon Baseship in the universe drifted through the void.

Leoben Conoy - the last of his model in existence - stood by a window gazing out at the thousands of stars he could see. He stood as still as a statue, his hands behind his back. His expression was one of deep contemplation and anticipation. Events would soon be in motion. God had given him a task which he could not fail.

A Centurion approached him from behind.

"_It is time." _it said a synthesized, yet gentle voice.

Leoben turned and nodded. "Good." he said. He paused and then asked, "Do you really believe she'll come to me?"

The Centurion twitched its head as if to make an inquisitive expression. _"The Hybrid believes she will find you."_

Leoben shook his head. "I know she'll find me." he said, "But I fear she won't believe me... or any of us. Kara has never really trusted me in particular."

"_Kara Thrace will come to you, my friend."_ the Centurion stated in a reassuring manner. _"She will no doubt be suspicious of our intentions at first, but she will come to you."_ It then added, _"Such is the will of God."_

"Yes," Leoben said. He smiled and placed a hand on the Centurion's shoulder. "Yes it is, old friend." He and the Centurion then resumed staring out the window into the infinite vastness of space.

"When do we make the jump?" he asked.

"_In less than ten minutes."_ replied the Centurion, _"After we have entered the system, we will position the Baseship behind Earth's moon to avoid detection. We will then wait for Kara Thrace to make contact with us."_

"We might be waiting for a long time. Days... weeks, perhaps." Leoben then shook his head and chuckled, "Of course, after 150,000 years, that shouldn't be too much of a problem for any of us."

The Centurion nodded. _"Indeed."_

* * *

A/N: So, as promised here's another little teaser about what to expect concerning any Future War storylines.

-Kara's story in the Resistance will be shown in detail. It will carry on through out the rest of the novel and go all the way to the part in which Kara departs for the 2009.

-The defense of Bunker Five will be shown next chapter.

-Kara's first meeting with Future John will be shown. It is actually rather hilarious.

-Kara's relationships with Cameron, Derek, Future John, and Kyle during the Future War will be vastly explored.

-Kara will find herself working with other scrubbed Terminators besides Cameron.

-Kara will find herself facing off against a Grey or two. **(A/N: Has nothing to do with The X-Files)**

-Kara will get her own Terminator-sniffing dog.

-Kara will learn how to catch and cook her own... let's just say meals.

-Serrano Point will feature heavily.

-A Skynet work camp will be shown.

-A Skynet factory will be shown.

-In addition to the standard Endo, the T-600, the Triple-Eight, and HK Tank, and the Aerial HK, Skynet's arsenal will be boosted by some of my own inventions. (Feel free to add your own suggestions)

-Elements of Terminator Salvation will be included.

A/N 2: A bit of trivia - "Faster Than the Speed of Love" is a reference from Family Guy, in which Brian Griffin writes a novel called "Faster Than the Speed of Love" which is so bad it sells zero copies even after getting an Oprah sticker.

**A/N3: The Baseship in this chapter is indeed the Rebel Baseship that was given to the Centurions at the end of "Daybreak Part II". The Leoben on board is _not _in charge. Why he's there, you'll find out later. ****He's also not the _only_ non-Centurion aboard. Remember what I said at the end of Chapter 12 about the return of a certain character who was killed off (on screen) in "Daybreak Part II"? (just to warn you, the character in question will have undergone a HUGE change in personality**)


	16. Faith, Fate, and Flak

Disclaimer: See Chap 1

A/N: Yay! Finals are done! Thank you for your patience everyone. Here at last is Chapter 16.

A/N2: The Skynet Banshee is my own creation. (I did, however, get my inspiration from the Covenant Banshees in Halo)

**Update 8/1/09: I changed the title of this chapter mainly to shorten it, but also to maintain certain recurring theme.**

* * *

**Resistance Bunker Five, 2024**

**Current status: Under Attack**

It was hard for Kara to watch the battle that raged before her.

Not because the battle was going badly. Far from it. In fact, things appeared to be moving along quite nicely. If the enemy continued to behave as they were supposed to, the Resistance would win.

At that moment, six HK Tanks were sitting in a row exchanging fire with Bunker Five's defenders, the bulk of whom had taken cover in the trenches. Behind the Tanks stood scores of endoskeletons waiting for orders.

Having lost a third of their forces, thanks to the minefield Sergeant Archer's men had set up on Kara's orders, the machines had halted their advance once they had cleared the mines. Now the Tanks were trying to whittle down the Bunker's defenses before sending the endos into the fray.

Everything was going according to plan.

Yet, it was still hard for Kara to watch....

Because all she _could _do was watch.

She had done her part already. She had come up with a plan. She given everyone their orders. Now the only thing she could do was watch and wait as events unfolded.

Watch and wait....

All from within Bunker Five Control - a reinforced concrete-steel pillbox located a safe distance away from the bulk of the fighting.

As she watched the battle through the embrasure of Control's observation section, she tried to tell herself that she wasn't the only one in this situation. But even here people were doing more than just watching. Half a dozen men manned the heavy machines guns that lined the embrasure of the pillbox. They hadn't fired a shot so far, but at least they were expected to fight. The technicians at the various tables were busy engaging the enemy in the art of electronic warfare. They worked to jam enemy communications while protecting their own. Still, others coordinated artillery and anti-aircraft gun fire. Everyone was doing something _besides_ watching.

Everyone but her.

The phone on the wall next to her rang. Eager to take this opportunity to do something besides watching, Kara picked up the phone before anyone else could get to it.

"This is Bunker Control, go ahead."

"_Control, this is O'Brien. Cleveland's team has taken out the metal in Area C. My men and I have got the other one trapped in the kitchens."_

"Is it armed?" Kara asked.

"_It lost its gun, but now it's throwing cutlery at anything that comes near it. It's got a pretty good aim too. Two of my men were wounded trying take a shot at it."_

"Do you need backup?"

"_Negative. The metal is in pretty bad shape itself. We're just waiting for it to run out of ammunition so to speak."_

"Alright..." said Kara, "Report back when it's destroyed. And tell Cleveland to sweep Area C again for any more infiltrators."

_"Yes, ma'am."_

Kara sighed as she reluctantly resumed watching the battle outside. Part of her wished she could lead a squad down there to help O'Brien out. Anything to get off the bleachers and _into_ the fight.

She was supposed to be in charge here. She _was_ in charge here. Yet at the same time she was powerless. Powerless to stop people - _her_ people - from dying all around her.

She watched through her binoculars as an HK Tank turned its cannons on an unsuspecting Resistance fighter too busy fumbling with his weapon to notice the imminent danger. She watched as the machine unleashed a steady stream of plasma fire at its target. She watched as the man - _her_ man - was torn to shreds in a matter of seconds.

Kara lowered her binoculars and squeezed her eyes shut. Had she been out there instead of being in here, she might have been able to save that man. But as it was, she hadn't even been able to yell _"get down!"_

Watching was the worst part about being in command. You had to watch people fight and die for you. Good people. People who deserved to live more than you.

"Ma'am!"

Kara was jerked out of her brooding as Sergeant Archer, whom she had appointed second-in-command, approached her. "We've got reports of another wave of inbound enemy fliers." he informed her, "ETA - two minutes."

Keeping her emotions at bay, Kara did what she was supposed to do and took command.

"Instruct our gunners to put up sporadic fire." she said, "And remind missile turret crews not to waste their ammo on the small ones."

"Yes, ma'am."

Peering through her binoculars again, Kara spotted a trio of Aerial HKs descend from the blackened clouds. Following them were a dozen smaller airborne machines. These were Skynet Banshees, craft similar in design to the Aerial HKs, except that they carried machine guns instead of plasma cannons, and had wings rather than giant turbines on their sides making them incapable of hovering. The Banshees got their name from the awful screeching sound they made when they flew into battle.

Bunker Five's gunners greeted the attackers appropriately with bullets and plasma bolts. One gunner scored a lucky shot and took out a Banshee. The other Banshees however, suddenly sped past their larger HK cousins and accelerated towards the base. Performing evasive maneuvers that even Kara had to admit were pretty good, the machines gracefully dodged all incoming enemy fire.

Although smaller and less heavily armored than the HKs, the Banshees had superior speed and agility. Their sophisticated tactical computers could quickly detect and analyze incoming enemy fire while simultaneously producing the best evasive maneuvers to perform. These attributes made Banshees small but formidable foes that were difficult to hit.

Difficult but not impossible. Kara had a nasty surprise waiting for the machines.

Turning to Archer, she said, "Tell flak units one through six to slice 'em up."

Archer repeated her instructions through a microphone, and the sky was suddenly filled with flashes of light as half a dozen autocannons on the ground simultaneously opened fire.

The Banshees' computers were programmed to deal with attacks aimed directly at them such as guided missiles or concentrated plasma fire. They were not, however, programmed to deal with attacks that were directed _around_ them. In this case, thousands of flak shells that exploded in midair sending metal fragments in every direction. Kara watched with grim pleasure as one, two, three, five Banshees were ripped to pieces in a span of thirty seconds.

Despite having lost half their numbers, the remaining Banshees continued their approach. Soon, they were acquiring targets. The heavy caliber machine guns the Banshees carried were not as accurate as plasma cannons, but were no less deadly. Screaming as they descended, the Banshees let loose a hail of bullets on the defenders who ran for cover.

Not everyone managed to escape death. One man attempted to drag his wounded friend to the safety of the trenches. He got no more than twenty feet before they were both gunned down from above.

Another fighter was aiming a rocket launcher at a Banshee when he was hit from behind. The launcher went off by accident, missing the Banshee, but killing three other people on the ground instead.

One Banshee, its tail on fire, went spiraling out of control and crashed into an anti-aircraft turret. The machine, the battery, and the gun crew all went up a massive conflagration.

Kara lowered her binoculars. She had seen enough. The remaining Banshees were pulling out now. Archer reported that the gun crews were asking for new orders. Kara gave instructions to hold fire and wait for the machines to regroup.

A couple minutes later, she was informed that the Banshees were coming around for another pass. As she had anticipated, they were now flying in tight formation, attempting to shield each other from flak cannon fire.

"_Big mistake, suckers."_ Kara thought.

She nodded to Archer who ordered "Missile Turret 2 fire!"

A single missile streaked overhead towards the Banshees. When the machines scanned the missile, they discovered it hadn't locked on to any of them. In fact, it hadn't locked on to _anything_. It was a slow moving, unguided projectile. Easy to avoid. Not even worth shooting down.

The Banshees altered their formation slightly to allow the missile to pass.

This was what Kara had been hoping for.

"Detonate!" she heard Archer bellow into the speaker.

As the missile passed through the enemy formation, it suddenly self-destructed. The explosion took out one Banshee and scattered the others.

Kara gave the order for all gunners to resume firing. The sky was once again lit up with thousands of flashes of light from exploding flak shells. The sky only darkened again when the last Banshee had gone down in flames.

"It worked, Starbuck!" Archer congratulated, "We got them all!"

"It's not over yet, Archer." Kara warned. "We've still got three Aerial HKs to deal with. Where are th-?"

She was cut off as she heard a familiar whining sound. She turned just in time to see the three Aerial HKs swoop down upon the humans in the trenches. The machines ravaged the defenders' ranks with plasma firing killing or wounding dozens.

The nearby antiaircraft batteries began firing flak shells at the attackers, but they did not have nearly the same amount of success as they had engaging the Banshees. The HKs were bigger with heavier armor. Despite the numerous hits the flak cannons scored, they were like bees trying to stop a hungry bear. They could sting but they couldn't hurt.

"Why the hell aren't the missile turrets firing?" Kara demanded.

"Gordon is reporting that none of the missile crews can get a positive lock on the targets." Archer replied, "The machines are jamming their targeting sensors."

"How?" Kara asked, "I thought we had ways to stop that."

"Looks like they've found a way around our counter jamming measurements." a female computer technician spoke up.

"Damn it." hissed Kara. She stared back outside and watched the HKs, having completed their attack run without loss, pull out. They'd be back for a second pass soon.

Kara turned to the technician. "Evans, can we compensate?" she asked urgently.

"I think so, ma'am'." replied the tech, looking over the readings on her computer. "Doesn't look they're using anything too fancy."

"Good. Get that interference cleared." Kara ordered, "We need those missile turrets working ASAP"

"Already on it, lieutenant." said Evans, "This shouldn't take long."

"Ma'am!" Archer called out. "They're coming again!"

"Where are they heading?"

"One's heading for the trenches. The other two are..." Archer paused to look at the radar monitor more closely. His eyes widened in alarm. "They're coming this way, lieutenant!" he shouted, "They're heading right for us!"

Kara acknowledged this with a nod. "Turret status, Evans?"

"Almost there." said Evans, "I can get the interference cleared in two minutes."

"We don't have two minutes!" Archer barked. They could already hear the HKs approaching again.

"Order flak units to focus fire on the HK heading for the trenches." Kara ordered.

For the first time, Archer hesitated to comply. "What about the two coming right at us, ma'am?" he asked.

"We can handle the hits in here." Kara told him, "Our people out there can't."

Archer nodded and picked up his microphone. "All flak units, priority target is inbound HK heading for trenches." he ordered, "Repeat - priority target is HK heading for trenches."

"Incoming!" shouted one of the soldiers manning the machine gun emplacements along the observation section. Kara stared out the embrasure. Two HKs were coming right at them. And fast.

The gunners instinctively opened fire on the incoming enemy fliers. Their efforts were even less successful than the flak batteries.

"Hold your fire! Hold your fire, damn it!" Kara bellowed angrily. "Get down, quickly!".

She physically grabbed the nearest gunner and pulled him to the floor not caring for his muffled protests. The blaring whining noise told her the HKs were almost on top of them.

"Everyone brace yourselves!" she shouted before assuming a defensive position herself.

Seconds later, plasma cannons roared and the compound shook violently. The lights flickered as dust, dirt and bits of concrete fell from the ceiling. Nothing exploded or collapsed however. Kara was the first one back on her feet after the tremors had ceased.

The man she had pulled to the floor was struggling to get up.

"You okay, kid?" she asked, extending her hand to help him.

The man held up his palm indicating he didn't need assistance. "I'm fine, ma'am." he grunted as got to his feet. (Kara couldn't help but notice the man seemed a little embarrassed that a woman had pulled him to the floor.)

"Is everyone okay?" she asked out loud to the others in the room, half of whom were still getting up. Everyone either nodded their heads or said "yes, ma'am," after which Kara ordered everyone to get back to their stations.

"Evans." she called out to the female technician, "Status?"

"Just a moment, ma'am." Evans said as she put her glasses back on. She looked at her computer screen trying to find where she had left off.

"Lieutenant." It was Archer again. "One of the metals has turned tail. It's... it's running away." Both he and Kara stared at each other in surprise.

Kara turned back to the observation section. Scanning the skies with her binoculars, Kara caught sight of the HK which had indeed turned tail... with what was left of its tail anyway. The flak gunners must have finally done some significant damage because not only was the end of the HK's tail missing, but one of its turbines was damaged. A thick trail of smoke poured out of the machine as it limped away.

"That one won't be back anytime soon." she said, "Where are the other two?"

"Still out there." Archer replied. "They're coming at us again."

"Got it!" Evans suddenly cried out in triumph. "I've cleared the interference!"

Kara ordered Archer to get Gordon on the line to confirm this. Archer did so and a few moments later he happily reported back that Gordon's men could now get positive locks on their targets.

Kara gave the order to fire at will.

Moments later, a salvo of missiles streaked towards the incoming aircraft. Both HKs were obliterated eliciting an applause from everyone in the room.

Kara grinned with approval. She was about to tell Archer to get Gordon on the line again so she could personally congratulate him for some nice shooting when someone yelled, _"Holy shit!"_ She spun around and stared up. A burning turbine from one of the HKs was flying right towards them.

"Back! _Back_!" she screamed, "Everyone take cov-!"

There was a sudden explosion which knocked Kara to the floor. The intensity of the blast was so great it forced her to cover her face. People screamed and yelled incoherently as the room shook even more violently than the last time. The lights went out - permanently this time. Kara felt something heavy - probably a piece of the ceiling - fall on top of her.

Finally, things settled down. Kara pushed off whatever debris was on top of her and sat up. She couldn't see anything as the power was still out.

"Damn it." she cursed as she searched herself for a flashlight, "Where the frak is that thing?"

Fortunately, emergency lighting kicked in a few moments later. Kara found herself being pulled to her feet.

"Are you all right, lieutenant?'" asked Archer as he helped her up.

Kara nodded. She was quite disheveled but nevertheless uninjured.

"I'm good." she said. Looking around, the first thing she noticed was that the HK turbine had been thoroughly embedded in the embrasure of Control's observation section. Twisted pieces of metal were strewn all around it, some still burning.

She was about to order someone to put out the fires when a feeble moan caught her attention. The young man Kara had thrown to the ground earlier lay on his back in front of her. He was barely conscious. Kara stepped forward to help but recoiled in horror a moment later. The flesh on the boy's face had been seared off almost to the bone.

"We'll deal with this, lieutenant." someone said.

A pair of battlefield medics, indicated by the armband with the red cross that each wore his right shoulder, approached the wounded gunner. They lifted the burnt man's body off the ground and onto a stretcher. They then hoisted the stretcher up together and started heading out. As Kara watched them carry the wounded gunner away, she saw another medic kneeling over another body.

Her stomach jolted with pain when she saw who it was.

"Evans..." Kara choked out, her voice barely a whisper.

The faithful technician who had successfully countered the HKs' jamming, lay motionless on the floor, her expression blank, the life in her eyes extinguished.

"What happened?" she asked the medic.

The medic held up a jagged piece of metal stained in blood. "Went right through her throat." he explained grimly.

Kara stared at the metal fragment. "Must have been from that piece of HK that hit us...." she muttered.

The medic just shrugged. "Might have been." he said, "Doesn't matter. Nothing we can do about it now. Except hope she didn't know what hit her."

Kara nodded silently. Her mind was in turmoil however.

"_But it _does_ matter."_ she thought, _"If I had been paying attention, I would have seen that debris earlier. I-I could have warned everyone earlier. I could have saved her..._ _Well, maybe I couldn't have saved her... But at least I could have congratulated her on a job well done. I didn't even do that."_

"Ma'am? Are you alright? Ma'am_'?_ Can you hear me??"

Kara snapped back to reality. Archer was standing next to her with a concerned expression on his face.

"Are you sure you're alright, Starbuck?" he asked. The fact that he was calling her by that name meant he had noticed something was wrong.

"I'm... I'm fine, Sergeant. I'm fine." Kara said hastily. "What's our status?"

"Not as bad as it seems." Archer reported, "All the equipment is more or less intact. Medics tell me four dead and three others wounded and out of action."

"Right." Kara said, "Get a damage control team up here on the double."

"Yes, ma'am."

As Archer began issuing her orders, Kara squeezed her eyes shut.

"_Hold it together, Starbuck. This battle isn't over yet. There will be time for mourning later."_

"Parkinson," she called out to one man, "Any word from Feral or Bravo Squad?"

Parkinson shook his head. "Negative, ma'am."

Kara prayed that Becka and Davy were still alive and that she had not sent them to their deaths.

"_They're alive."_ she told herself, _"If anyone could pull off what you ordered them to do, it's them."_

"Keep me informed. I want to know the minute you hear anything from Feral or any of her troops."

"Understood, ma'am."

Damage control personnel meanwhile entered the bunker. They managed to put out any remaining fires and clear the turbine from the observation section. There was now a gaping hole in the wall which Kara could stick her whole body through. A howling gust of wind blew through the opening. Kara stood there and allowed the cold air to wash over her face. She felt a little better now. Less distant from the battle. She could almost feel her old spirit returning.

Almost...

"Lieutenant!" Archer called out to her again, "They're on the move! The endos are on the move!"

Kara stared out through the breach in the wall. Through her binoculars she saw that the endos - at least three hundred strong, their red eyes glaring ominously in the dark - were indeed on the move. The explosion in Bunker Control must have convinced the machines that their defenses were falling at last.

"Squad leaders report enemy is directing their efforts at the center of our lines." Archer was saying, "Our forces there are outnumbered and running low on ammo."

Kara glanced over her shoulder and looked at Archer. His eyes met hers. He nodded indicating he supported her plan full-heartedly.

"Understood," Kara said at last. She took a deep breath and ordered, "Tell them to hold their position." Although she didn't show it, issuing this command caused her more pain than anything she had seen in this battle so far.

"Squad leaders report they've engaged the enemy." Archer said a moment later.

Kara didn't need to be told that. Nor did she need to look through her binoculars to see what was going on. The flashes of plasma fire and machines gun bursts that streaked back and forth across the battlefield made it obvious that the endos were engaging the defenders in the trenches.

This was the part she dreaded the most. Not only was she going to watch her men die, she was going to _let_ them die.

Kara watched as the men in the trenches fought valiantly against the onslaught of machines. They fought with plasma rifles, rocket launchers, slug throwers, grenades, improvised explosives, rocks, bricks, sticks and any other weapon they had at their disposal. They were magnificent.

But they would never win. They were outnumbered and outgunned. The central trench was doomed to fall. They were going to have to retreat.

When Kara Thrace told them to.

For now, however, they would continue to fight, bleed, and die despite the odds. Because that was the plan.

_Her plan._

She knew the central trench could not be held for long, but she couldn't order a retreat. Not yet. The Resistance _never_ fled just because they were outnumbered or low on ammunition. Skynet knew this. If the defenders did not make the machines pay for every inch of ground taken, Skynet might suspect a trick.

She couldn't afford to let that happen.

Blood had to be shed. There was no other way.

Losses on both sides continued to mount as the battle raged on. For every man that was killed, four or five machines were destroyed.

But that didn't matter to the Skynet. Machines could be rebuilt. Replaced.

Humans on the other hand could not be replaced. The loss of a single human was a more devastating blow to the Resistance than the loss of a thousand endos was to Skynet.

"_Gods... God... Whoever's out there. Please forgive me."_ Kara prayed silently.

When it finally became blatantly clear - to everyone - that the central trench was lost, Kara gave the order to retreat. Being able to issue this command was a great relief for her, as no one else had to die now. She watched the remaining soldiers fall back as the endos swarmed into the trench. She waited until Archer informed her that the central trench had been evacuated and sealed. By then the trench was teeming to the brim with endoskeletons.

Perfect....

She couldn't help but flash an evil smile.

"Get Gordon on the line." she told Archer.

A moment later she was speaking with Sergeant Gordon. "Gordon, this Thrace." she said, "Do it."

"_Roger that, ma'am__. One swimming pool coming up._

"You sure this will work?" Archer asked her.

Kara smirked. "No," she admitted. "But we're about to find out."

She raised her binoculars to her eyes again.

"_Here goes nothing."_ she thought.

Peering through her binoculars at the endo-filled trench, she watched the machines suddenly stare down in confusion. Although she couldn't see it, she knew what was happening. The ground was getting wet. Very wet. Water was gushing out into the trench courtesy of some modifications Kara, Gordon, and a few select Resistance engineers had made to the Bunker Five's plumbing system. The bewildered machines, now ankle deep in water, milled about trying to figure out what was going on. They were in for one nasty shock. Quite literally.

Water was life for most creatures.

It would be death, however, for these machines.

Every endo suddenly went into violent spasms as several electrical generators were flipped on transforming the central trench into a death trap. The machines shook, jittered, and flailed as electricity arched through their metal bodies frying their internal systems. Unable to control the movement of their fingers, many fired their weapons at random blowing each other to bits. Others bashed themselves against the walls of the trench or into their neighbors as their brains short circuited.

Then it was over as suddenly as it had begun. The generators exhausted themselves. The endos still left standing crumpled like puppets with their strings cut, smoke pouring out of every cavity in their metal bodies. The red lights in their eyes faded leaving only empty, powerless shells behind. Within a span of less than a minute, the greater whole of the machine army had been vanquished.

* * *

There was a long moment of silence in Bunker Control. Then came an eruption of jubilant cheering and applause. People hugged, shook hands, high-fived, stamped their feet, even kissed.

Archer ran up to Kara. "It worked, Starbuck! It worked!" he shouted with excitement, grabbing her shoulder, "That was amazing! You're a genius!"

Kara just nodded and allowed herself to smile. She then asked to be put through to Sergeant Brown. "Brown, this Bunker Control." Kara spoke into the microphone, "We've taken care of the endos. What's the status on those Tanks?"

"_Looks like they're turning away,"_ Brown replied from the other end of the battlefield. _"All six of them."_

"Tell your men they can come out now and blow those ugly bastards to hell."

"_It'll be my pleasure, ma'am__."_

Kara hung up, put her binoculars aside and watched the retreating HK Tanks with her own eyes. In her mind she saw Brown and Alpha Squad, who had been hiding right under the machines' noses this whole time, pop out from the ground. She pictured them hurling satchels containing HK Busters in the path of the fleeing machines. She envisioned the Tanks unwittingly roll over the satchels.

She didn't need to imagine what happened next. Even from a distance, she could clearly see all six HK Tanks go up in six great explosions.

Kara closed her eyes and sighed. It was done. They had won. All the deaths she had been forced to witness had not been in vain.

As the celebration within Bunker Control intensified, Kara picked up the line and contacted Brown once more.

"Nice work, Brown." she said, "I knew you could do it."

"_And nice work back there too, ma'am__'. I'm sorry that I ever doubted you."_

"Apology accepted." Kara smirked, "Now get your ass back here."

"_Roger that.__"_

Kara hung up and turned back to her comrades who had gathered around her. They hugged her, shook her hand, and praised her for their victory. Someone started shouting, "Starbuck! Starbuck!" Others followed suite, and soon everyone in the room was chanting: _"Starbuck! Starbuck! Starbuck!"_

She wished they would stop. She didn't feel like a hero. She wanted to hold up her hands and tell them that _they_ were the _real_ heroes. They and all those who had died. _Especially_ those who had died. But for some reason, she couldn't form the right words. So she merely smiled and nodded in response to the cheers all around her.

Kara suddenly started aching all over. Not physically. She hadn't exerted her body very much at all lately. Her mind, however, felt torn asunder by the images of those she had seen die today. Die - while she stood by and watched.

The worst part was yet to come: The casualty reports. The official number of people dead, wounded, or missing. _Her_ people.

The battle may have been won, but for Kara, but it wasn't over yet.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Kara was with Doctor Thornton, Sergeant Archer, and Sergeant Gordon, discussing the outcome of the battle. As Kara had anticipated, the casualties were pretty bad.

"At the moment, we've got forty-four confirmed dead," Thornton was telling her, "And another sixty-seven wounded."

"Still over fifty missing." Kara said as she looked at the reports trying to keep herself focused. "Archer, what's the story on those reinforcements?"

"General Perry's troops should be here by tomorrow morning." Archer said, "Assuming they don't run into any trouble along the way."

Kara nodded. "Let's just hope Skynet decides not to attack again before then."

She then turned to Gordon. "How long will it take to get the plumbing back to normal?"

"Shouldn't take too long." Gordon replied, "My people estimate they should have things fixed up in a couple hours."

"Okay then." Kara said, "Keep me updated, all of you. Dismissed."

Archer and Gordon left. Thornton however stayed behind. "Is there something else we need to talk about, Doc?" Kara asked.

Thornton nodded. "When was the last time you got any sleep, lieutenant?"

"I have no idea."

"I was afraid of that." Thornton took out a small bottle and handed it to her.

Kara shook her head. "I don't take stims, Doc." she said coolly.

"Doesn't anyone ever read the damn labels these days?" grunted Thornton.

Kara looked at the label on the bottle. "Sleeping pills? Doc, I can sleep later. I've got a job to do-"

Thornton cut her off. "You look like hell, Thrace. You're clearly in no condition to perform your duties any longer. I'm telling you to get some rest."

"Look Doc, I-"

"Don't you _'look Doc'_ me, Thrace." growled Thornton as though speaking to a child. "You've overexerted yourself enough already. _You need to get some sleep_. Now, get back to your barracks, lie down, and take one of the damn pills. Doctor's orders. Understood?"

Kara threw her hands up in defeat. "_Fine_." she said looking exasperated, "Whatever you say, Doc."

As she headed back to her barracks she couldn't help but think to herself: _"That guy has _got_ to be Cottle's great-great-great-great grandson."_

* * *

Ten minutes later, Kara was back in her barracks lying on her bunk trying to get some sleep - _without_ the aid of a sleeping pill. Unfortunately, the events of everything that had happened to her kept plaguing her mind. She rolled over trying to clear her head of all emotion, but it was of no use. She might as well have been trying to fill an endo's head with emotion.

Finally, after admitting to herself that she wasn't going to get any sleep this way, Kara reached for the bottle with the sleeping pills. She was about to swallow one when a familiar voice called out: "You might want to hold off on that, Starbuck."

Kara sat up and saw Admiral Adama standing beside her. She didn't freak out this time. On the contrary, she was happy to have someone to talk to. Even if that someone wasn't really there.

"Why the long face, Kara?" Adama asked, "You should be proud of yourself for what you did today."

"I don't really know, Bill." Kara sighed, "Sure, the battle was won, but did _I_ win it?"

"Of course you won it." Adama said, "You led your men to victory like you were supposed to."

Kara shook her head. "But that's _all_ I did. _Lead_. Not _fight_." she said, her face etched with guilt, "I stayed behind and sent other people to fight _for me_. _They_ won this battle. They fought, they bled, and they died. And what the frak did I do? Stand in a pillbox _watching_." She looked disgusted with herself.

"It was your plan, Starbuck. Your plan that won this battle." Adama said, "It was your brilliant, crazy, out-of-the-box thinking that did the job."

"Yes, I _know_ that." Kara almost shouted, "Of course it was my plan. But I made other people carry it out for me. What if it had gone wrong? What if I had made a mistake? If-if anyone should have to pay for my frak ups, it should be _me_."

"This isn't the first time you've had to stay back." Adama pointed out, "Remember the attack on that tyllium refinery?"

"That was different." Kara argued, "I had a broken leg and I couldn't participate. I don't have that excuse this time. I _could_ have been out there today. I _could_ have fought along side my people. I _wanted_ to fight."

"So what stopped you?" Adama asked curiously.

Kara shrugged and said, "Archer, Gordon and Thornton all insisted that I stay back. Told me it was too risky. That I would be a 'high priority target.' Nothing wrong with that, though. I mean if meant drawing away enemy fire from everyone else-"

"You would have been killed." Adama interjected, "In which case your men would have been left without a leader, and _everyone_ might have died. You did the right thing, Kara. You know that, don't you?"

"I know, I know." Kara replied indignantly, "I _know_ I did what was expected of me today. I _know_ I saved a lot of people. But what about the people I _didn't_ saved? The ones who I _watched_ die? What about _them_?"

"They died doing their duty, Kara." Adama solemnly stated, "They died for what they believed in. They died for their people. And they died for you."

Kara stared. "For _me_?"

Adama nodded. "Yes, for you."

"They shouldn't have had to!" Kara exclaimed angrily. "_No one_ should have to die for someone like me! Why do _I_ deserve to live more than anyone else?"

"I can't answer that question, Starbuck." Adama replied, "All I can tell you is that they died for you."

"And I'm supposed to be _happy_ about that?"

"No, you're not." Adama sat down next to her. He sighed. "Tell me, Kara, does the loss of your men pain you?"

"Of-of course it does." Kara stammered, "I can't help it. I-I know they died honorably, but Gods, it still feels like something's been ripped out of me. They were my men. My responsibility..." She trailed off.

Adama placed a hand on her shoulder. "You've lost so much in life" he said, "yet you still feel pain. You can still grieve. And that's good."

"How... how is that _good_?" Kara asked incredulously.

Again, Adama sighed. "The thing about being a leader, Starbuck," he explained, "is that the people you lead are _apart_ of you. _Extensions_ of yourself. When one of your men dies, part of you dies with them. That's why it feels painful. It's _meant_ to be painful."

"It is?"

"Being a leader is a very complicated business." Adama stated matter-of-factly, "You have to mourn loss, yet you must move on with life. You have to put your faith in others, yet you must trust yourself above all else. You must stand by your decisions while learning from your mistakes. You have to value the lives of those you command, but you must be willing to sacrifice them for the greater good.

"But the most important thing about being a leader, Starbuck, is that you keep your promises to those you lead." Adama looked at Kara in eyes. "Do you understand, Kara?" he asked quietly.

Kara nodded. "Yes. Yes, I do. I understand." she said.

"I'm proud of you, Kara." Adama smiled, "You did well today. Just like I knew you would."

"Thank you, sir." Kara replied, "You've never lost faith in me."

"No, I never have." Adama said softly. "You're my daughter after all."

There was a knock at the door. Kara blinked once and Adama vanished.

She smiled. "Thanks, Admiral." she whispered.

The knocking continued.

"Enter."

Private Parkinson cautiously poked his head through the door.

"Excuse me, ma'am," he said, "But Sergeant Feral and Bravo Squad are back. Feral is outside waiting to speak with you."

Kara sighed with relief and silently thanked whatever divine power was out there. Becka was alive and she was back!

"Send her in."

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

A few moments later, Becka entered. She looked flushed with excitement. She gave Kara a salute, which Kara returned.

Kara straightened herself out and cleared her throat. "So... ahem." she said, "Report, sergeant."

"We did it, Starbuck." Becka said proudly, "We demolished that Skynet base in Sector 6. _Demolished_ it! _Leveled_ it to the ground. The metals never knew what hit them!"

"Excellent." Kara said, "How'd you do it?"

"Well, Corporal Carlos' team drew the HKs away from the base. My team then infiltrated the perimeter, got into the power station, and rigged the generators to overload. We got back to the perimeter. Davy picked us up and we drove out of there. The whole place went _boom_ a couple minutes later. It was _sublime_! _Majestic_!"

"Casualties?" Kara asked hesitantly.

"There were some injuries. Pretty nasty ones too." Becka replied, "Johnson broke both her ankles when a T-600 jumped her. Potter got grazed in the forehead by a stray plasma bolt. He should be okay, but he'll be scarred there probably for life. Simpson lost a thumb when-"

Kara held up her hand and cut her off. "But did we lose anyone?"

Becka shook her head. "No." she said, "No one was killed. We all made it back."

Kara sighed with relief and said, "You did good, Becka. I knew I could count on you."

"Thank you, ma'am. And if I may say so, you did good as well." Becka gave her an enthusiastic grin, "I heard what you did to those endos. That was effin' _brilliant_! Brilliant I tell you! People will be taking about that for _ages_!"

"Assuming anyone's still alive." Kara muttered darkly.

"Of course, people will still be alive!" Becka exclaimed, "With someone like you on our side, how can we lose this war?"

Kara grinned weakly. "I'm just one person, Becka. You overestimate me."

"I don't thinks so. People around here are already saying you must be the next Joan of Arc."

Kara frowned. "Joan of what?"

"Joan of Arc." Becka said, "You know, Saint Joan of Arc?"

"Sorry. Never heard of her."

Becka raised her eyebrows. "I take it you never paid much attention in Sunday school."

Kara shrugged. "I never paid much attention in any school." she said plainly.

"Well..." Becka sighed, "The story goes that Joan of Arc was a girl who was chosen by God to lead her people, the French, to victory against their English enemies."

"By God?"

"That's how the story goes."

Kara smiled weakly. "Well, I hope no one's taking this analogy too far, because I am _no_ saint. Okay?" she said laughing half heartedly, "Nor do I want to become one. I don't want to be forgotten, but I don't want to be associated with any made-up religious icons either."

"Joan of Arc isn't a made-up legend." Becka replied, "She was a real person. She really did lead her people to victory. Whether or not she was chosen by God is... well, that's a matter of opinion."

"What do _you_ think?" Kara asked curiously.

"I like to think she was." Becka said, "I like to think that her soul went to Heaven when she died. That she wasn't afraid when she burnt at the stake. That she-"

"Whoa! Whoa!" exclaimed Kara, "Back up there! Did you just say _burnt at the stake_?!"

"Yeah... Guess I should have mentioned that part earlier. She... um... was captured the English, and... um... got executed."

"And people are saying I'm following in the _footsteps_ of _this_ woman..." Kara asked, "A woman who ultimately ended up being burnt alive?"

"Well... they didn't have lethal injection back then."

Kara couldn't stop herself from making an unpleasant gulping sound.

Becka chuckled. "Don't worry, Starbuck. I don't think Skynet is going to burn you at the stake if it gets its hands on you. Just like it won't being nailing John Connor to a cross."

"I don't get it."

"Nevermind." Becka sighed to herself and then asked, "Starbuck, may I ask you a personal question?"

Kara nodded. "Sure."

Despite having been given permission, Becka seemed to hesitate to ask her question. She sat down on the bunk next to Kara. "Do you... do you believe in God?" she finally asked, her voice very quiet now.

"_Uh oh."_ thought Kara, _"I was afraid this might happen."_

"Well..." she paused trying to think of something reasonable to say. "I suppose there is some supernatural force out there. Some greater power." She sighed and looked down at the ground, "Whether or not it should be called a god, I haven't got a clue. But yes. I guess I do believe there is something out there. Something we'll never see or comprehend."

"Then do you believe that this war is part of God's plan," Becka asked, "That all this was _supposed_ to happen."

_"All this has happened before. All this will happen again."_ Kara muttered to herself absentmindedly.

"What?"

"Sorry. Nevermind." Kara said hastily, "I was just remembering something I heard a long time ago."

"So, do you believe that this is part of God's plan?"

"I don't know. I really don't know. What do you believe, Becka?"

"I believe in God. I believe He has a plan for us." said Becka firmly, "But I also believe what John Connor tells us."

"And what's that?"

"That there is no fate but what we make for ourselves."

"Sage advice. But what about God's big plan or whatever?" Kara asked. "You can't have it both ways."

"I believe that God that has a plan. I believe we're meant to follow that plan." Becka said, "But I also believe that His plan is never complete. That it's like a never ending story. I believe that God knows more than we do, but He doesn't know _everything_ that will happen. I believe He doesn't _want_ to know everything that will happen. I believe that in some ways, just as we look to God for guidance, God looks to _us_ for His own guidance_._ That He writes His plan based on the choices _we_ make in life."

"What?" Kara scoffed, "You mean like an author taking advice from fans when writing his next book?"

Becka shook her head. "No, it's not that crude." she said, "I believe that some things are inevitable because God means them to happen. But how we _deal_ with those things is entirely up to us."

"So, God just picks random scenarios - like tornadoes, earthquakes, and Judgment Day, throws them at us, and says 'have fun, kids.'?"

"Judgment Day wasn't like a tornado or an earthquake. God allowed Judgment Day to occur because _we_ allowed it to occur. God didn't build Skynet. _We_ did. We _chose_ to build it. We chose to give it sentience. We chose to create something that was beyond our control."

"And now we have to live with the consequences of those choices." Kara muttered dully.

Becka nodded. "Yes, we do." she said quietly. "That's why God gave us the gift of free will. So we could choose how to live even in the darkest of times. _Especially_ in the darkest of times. After the bombs fell, some people chose to give up and die. Others, like you and I, chose to fight back. That's God's gift of free will, Starbuck. The ability to choose our own fate."

"Our own fate?

"Yes, our own fate."

"Our own fate..." Kara murmured again. She then recalled what Becka had said before: "There is no fate..."

"...but what we make for ourselves." Becka completed.

Kara nodded. _"So say we all."_ she whispered to herself.

She and Becka then sat in silence for a several long moments before Becka stood up.

"Speaking of choices," she said, "you'd better get some sleep, Starbuck. People tend to make better choices when they're well rested."

"Is that a fact?"

"Yes, it is. I eh... learned that in college... and not from a text book."

Kara held up her palm. "Spare me the details." she said. "I have enough things swirling in my head."

"Alright then." Becka said, "See you in the morning."

She turned to leave when Kara called out to her, "Oh and Becka."

Becka turned around.

"I know I've said this before," Kara said, "but I'll say it again: You did well today, Becka. Congratulations."

Becka smiled warmly. "You too, Starbuck. I'm proud to call you my commander and my friend. Whatever God has in store for us, we'll see it through to the end. Together."

Kara smiled back and nodded. "Together." she repeated.

Becka gave her a salute. Kara saluted back. She then watched Becka leave her barracks before lying back on her cot.

Kara popped one of the sleeping pills Thornton had given her into her mouth and swallowed. The effects were almost immediate, and she felt herself slipping into a state of bliss and peace. She placed her head on her pillow and allow herself to sink into the mattress.

Just before falling asleep, she thought she heard herself whisper, _"There is no fate but what we make for ourselves."_

_

* * *

_

**Connor Safehouse**

**10:07 AM, Tuesday, May 12, 2009**

"Alright everyone, we've got a bit of a problem." Sarah Connor said as she addressed Kara, John, Cameron and Derek. "Mr. Stukov has inconveniently decided to make some last minute changes to our deal."

"Let me guess," said Derek dryly, "The bastard wants more money?"

Sarah shook her head. "No." she said, "He wants us to show him the weapon we found."

"What? Why?" asked John.

"He says he thinks he can tell us more if he sees what we've found for himself." Sarah replied.

"Oh, come on!" Kara said, "He can't think we're _that_ stupid."

"What would he know about this thing?" Derek added, "He just purchased _one_ piece of it for his bosses."

"Apparently not." said Sarah, "He's now saying that he purchased other components for it."

"And he never mentioned that before... why?" John asked.

"He says he didn't want to give away to much information about himself before he felt he could trust us." Sarah's expression indicated she wasn't convinced at all by this.

Kara shook her head. "I smell a rat." she muttered (behind her Cameron started scanning the room for signs of rodent activity).

"We _can't_ bring him that weapon." Derek warned, "We can't. Even if this isn't a trap - which frankly I'd be surprised if it wasn't - it's too dangerous. We can't risk losing our only link to Skynet."

"I know Derek, I know." Sarah said. "But that thing won't get us anywhere without his help."

Cameron, who had not said a word this whole time, suddenly spoke up. "We can do it both ways." she said.

Everyone stared at her.

"What do you mean?" asked John.

"We know when Stukov stopped working for the company associated with Kaliba. We know this weapon continued to be assembled even after that time. Therefore, he could not have possibly been responsible for acquiring all the various parts."

"So, what you're saying," said Kara, "is that we only need to show him the parts he knows about?"

"Yes." said Cameron. "Anything newer than six months - the time that has passed since he stopped working for Kaliba - he cannot possibly tell us anything about."

"Which means, if this is a setup and Kaliba manages to steal this thing back from us, we'll still have something to go on?" Kara concluded.

"Yes." Cameron replied.

"How will we know which parts to keep?" Sarah asked.

"When John and I were examining the weapon, I cataloged detailed information about each component including their approximate age." Cameron explained, "There are several parts that are newer than six months. Those are the parts we do not need to show Stukov and should be kept here."

"Won't he be a little suspicious if several parts are missing?" Derek pointed out.

"He won't miss anything he doesn't know about." Cameron stated flatly.

"Okay, then." said Kara, "I don't know about the rest of you, but I like this plan."

John nodded. "Me too."

Not wanting to openly agree with Cameron, Derek just gave a nod of approval in Sarah's direction.

"Alright then." said Sarah. "I'll call Stukov up and tell him we have a deal."

She took out her cell phone and began dialing.

* * *

"It is done." the Triple-Eight said into its cell phone, "The woman who calls herself Miss. Dickinson has agreed to bring the Primary Component to the designated meeting spot."

"_Good."_ hissed the voice from the other end, _"Once you have the Primary Component, bring it back here immediately so that we can complete the assembly of the Nanoid Disrupter."_

"Understood." replied the Triple-Eight.

"_And Duran, I presume you know what to do with this Miss. Dickinson and any others she may be accompanied with."_

"Yes." said the Triple-Eight, "Terminate them."

The speaker on the other end hung up. The Triple-Eight pocketed its cell phone and proceeded out the room, casually stepping over the body of Ronald Stukov as it did.

* * *

A/N: Leave a nice review.

A/N2: I've deliberately written Kara's religious stance to be rather vague. After all she's been through, I think it's likely she would at least be open to the possible existence of the one true God the Cylons believe in.

A/N3: Battlestar Commander: The events of "Adam Raised A Cain" will definitely play a part in this story. As will certain elements of "Born To Run." Oh and here's a little hint, the BSG character on the Baseship with Leoben may not necessarily be a Cylon depending on_ your personal definition of what a Cylon is_. The person may not necessarily be human either. Again, it depends on what your personal definition of what a human is.

A/4: Did anyone catch the reference to "Starcraft" at the end.


	17. New Marching Orders

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, guys.

A/N2: I'm seriously considering changing the title of this fic. Why? Because when I first wrote the story, I wasn't sure if I was going to make this a multi-chapter novel or a one-shot thing. Now that I know it's a multi-chapter novel, I'm wondering if I should change the title to reflect that.

**EDIT: 6/20 - since people seem to like the current title, I'm probably just going to keep it. Though, I might modify it slightly. For example: "Kara Thrace - An Angel With No Fate"**

**If anyone has any suggestions (or just wants me to keep the old title, please PM me or put it in your review for this chapter)**

* * *

**Resistance Bunker Five, 2024**

"Ugghhh..."

A groggy Kara Thrace shuffled in her bunk. Someone was shaking her shoulder.

"Mmmppphhh..." she mumbled in protest, "Getoffmeee"

"_Starbuck. Starbuck?"_ someone was saying.

"Go away." she groaned.

"Come on, Starbuck. You need to get up."

"Go away!" she groaned again. She rolled on her stomach and buried her face into her pillow.

Her tormentor continued shaking her shoulder, forcing her to flip over again. "Need to get up, lieutenant. I think we let you sleep in long enough."

Kara couldn't tolerate this any longer. First Thornton had made her get some sleep when she still had duties to perform. _Now_ some douche was trying to get her out of bed when she still needed sleep! She didn't have to take this!

She curled her right fist into a ball and rolled her body sideways. Lashing out towards the general source of the disturbance, she felt her fist connect with a nose and-

"OW!"

That voice sounded familiar. That sounded like-

"Davy?" Kara asked.

"Yeah." grunted the voice, "It's me."

Kara's eyes shot open and she looked up. Davy was clutching his face, which had blood running down his nose.

Oops.

"Sorry. Sorry about that, Davy." Kara said quickly, "Didn't know it was you."

"That's okay, Starbuck." said Davy as he tried control his nosebleed. "I've had worse." He finally straightened himself out and said, "You still need to get up, Starbuck. Someone wants to see you in Bunker Control."

Kara groaned. "Alright, alright." she muttered. "Just give me a moment." She pushed herself into a sitting up position.

"Glad to see you, Davy." she said.

Davy grinned back despite his nosebleed. "Glad to see you too, Starbuck. I, uh, heard how you kicked some serious metal ass yesterday."

Kara nodded. "Yeah. I heard you did too."

"That was nothing compared to you." Davy said, "Yeah, I helped take out a half-abandoned base with a few metals left behind. You, on the other hand, you took out an entire _army_ of metals!"

"Yeah... we won." muttered Kara, "But we paid for it."

"People die in this war every day, Starbuck." Davy said, "It's terrible. All wars are terrible. But at least they're dying to give the rest of us a chance to survive."

"I know." Kara replied, "But sometimes I wonder if those of us who do survive... should survive."

"I don't know about everyone, Starbuck," Davy said. He placed a hand on her shoulder. "But I can tell you this: If anyone should be allowed to survive, it should be you."

"Thanks, Davy." said Kara. She hadn't felt this close to Davy since that alcohol-influenced kiss they had shared in their barracks a couple nights before.

She shook her head. She had to keep these feelings for Davy to herself. They couldn't be allowed to interfere with her judgment. Hadn't her experiences with Zak, Sam, and Lee taught her anything? She was like a living curse when it came to love. Whenever she fell in love with someone, she did nothing but screw up their lives. Zak had _died_ because of her. She didn't want Davy to die because of her screw ups.

"So, anyway... Davy." she said, "Who exactly wants to see me?"

"Colonel Benedict Sloan." answered Davy, "He's in charge of the reinforcements General Perry sent."

"When did he get here?"

"About fifteen minutes ago. He says he needs to speak with you as soon as possible. He didn't say what for though."

"Probably just here to congratulate me, and tell me who's taking over." Kara said.

"Taking over?" Davy asked.

"Well, yeah..." Kara replied, "I mean, I'm only the acting-commander of Bunker Five. I only took charge because Green was killed and we came under attack. I don't think this was meant to be a _permanent_ job."

"Starbuck, you've done a great job so far." Davy insisted.

"That's very sweet Davy." Kara said. She started putting her boots on. "But if I'm going to be a leader, I'm going to be the kind that leads the charge into battle, not the kind that stays behind and watches."

She stood up and grabbed her jacket. "You coming with me?" she asked as she walked out of the barracks.

"Sure." Davy replied, and he followed her out the door.

* * *

Kara should have known something was wrong the moment she entered Bunker Five Control, where Colonel Sloan was waiting for here.

Sloan was a tall, middle-aged man with slick greyish-black hair. Unlike most Resistance fighters, he was clean-shaven and had few facial noticeable facial scars. He looked fit, but bore no evidence that he had spent a lifetime fighting tooth and nail. Kara couldn't help but feel that Sloan seemed a bit out of place standing here surrounded by rugged, battle-hardened individuals.

Kara approached and gave him a salute. "Colonel Sloan." she said politely, "Welcome to Bunker Five."

Sloan nodded and returned the salute. "Acting-Lieutenant Thrace, I presume?" he said.

"Yes, sir."

"Well, Thrace," said Sloan, "I hear you had quite a busy day yesterday."

"That's one way of putting it." said Kara quietly. There was something about the man's voice that made Kara squirm. It sounded both stiff and slick. Like someone who criticized others for breaking the rules, yet broke the rules himself whenever it suited his purposes.

"There are some things we need to discuss now," Sloan said, "First of all, congratulations on your victory. You did a spectacular job. Resistance Command has heard of your actions, and have decided to officially give you a commission. Congratulations, lieutenant."

There was a round of cheering and applause from the surrounding people. Kara on the other hand felt her insides freeze. She wasn't being made the commanding officer of Bunker Five permanently, was she? She couldn't be.

"Thank you, sir." she said, trying to conceal her nervousness.

"Secondly," Sloan continued, "by order of Resistance Command, you are hereby officially relieved of command of Bunker Five."

Whispers of protests and dissent flared around Sloan. Kara, however, was nothing short of thrilled to hear this news._ "Whew_ - _that was close."_ she thought.

"Very well." she said happily, "May I ask who's taking over?"

"That would be Captain James Oswell." replied Sloan, "But I'm afraid you won't be able to meet him."

"I won't?"

"That's the third thing we need to discuss, Thrace. You're leaving Bunker Five. Today."

Kara's smile vanished. She swore she had misheard Sloan.

"I-I'm what?" she stammered.

Sloan repeated what he had just said. Kara's composure dropped. She tried to say something but nothing came out of her mouth. She was leaving Bunker Five today? _ Leaving?? Today??_

She wasn't the only one who appeared to have been blindsided. The whole room had gone silent as everyone stared at the two. For several long moments, the only sound that could be heard was a gentle breeze coming through the crudely patched up hole in the observation section of Bunker Control.

Finally, Kara managed to speak again. "Sir..." she said cautiously, "May I ask what this is all about?"

"Let's just say you're wanted elsewhere." Sloan replied. "At Fort Leopard."

People began whispering and muttering now. It made Kara feel even more uncomfortable.

"With respect, sir," she said slowly, "I'd like to stay here...." She trailed off already knowing it was futile.

Sloan shook his head. "Out of the question." he replied stiffly. He produced a hand-written letter from the front pocket of his coat. "This is a direct order from Resistance Command."

Kara felt as if her heart had been ripped from her body. She was being told to just abandon Becka, Davy, and all the others here whom she had come to know and respect. Leave them! Just like that!

Kara glanced over her shoulder and spotted Davy and Becka standing behind her, both of whom were equally shocked and devastated by this news.

She turned back to Sloan. "How-how long will I be at Fort Leopard for?" she asked still hoping that this really didn't mean what it appeared to mean.

"That's not up to me." Sloan stated matter-of-factly, "It depends on how long Command needs you there."

"So, why am I needed at Fort Leopard or whatever?" Kara asked.

Sloan just shrugged this time. "I assume it has something to do with your tactical abilities, but Command told me nothing on this matter."

Kara looked even more incredulous. "_You don't know_??"

"That is correct. I do not. If I knew, I would have told you."

"Just a minute!" Becka suddenly blurted out, causing everyone to stare at her. She looked outraged. "How can you expect her to just leave but not know _why_?" Others nodded and voiced their agreement.

"Like I said, if I knew I would have told you." Sloan replied, annoyed at Becka's outburst, "I suggest you control yourself, Sergeant..." he frowned, "What is your name?"

"Feral." Becka said with mild defiance, "Rebbecca Feral."

Sloan looked over the letter in his hand. "Ah yes." he said, "Rebbecca Feral...." He cleared his throat. "I apologize for telling you this on such short notice, Sergeant Feral, but you too are being transferred to Fort Leopard today."

Becka's mouth hung open and she froze like a statue. Kara and Davy stared at her, then at Sloan, then at each other, then finally back at Becka. The whispering and murmuring began anew with twice as much fervor.

Before Kara could open her mouth, Sloan cleared his throat again. "Oh..." he said as he read the letter again, "and is there a Private David Griffin I can speak with?"

Everyone now turned to Davy. He sighed and slowly raised his hand. "Yeah..." he said mildly, "That would be me."

"Ah, excellent." said Sloan with a little smile. He then turned to Kara. "Private Griffin is also being transferred to Fort Leopard-"

"Yes, I know. Today." Kara cut in, "Is anyone _else_ being transferred, sir?"

Sloan checked the letter. "No." he said, "Just you, Griffin, and Feral."

The murmuring around the room intensified. Kara, Becka, and Davy stared at each other trying to appeal to one another for an explanation. When they got none they all turned to Colonel Sloan.

"May I see that, sir?" Kara asked pointing to the letter in Sloan's hand.

"Certainly, Lieutenant." Sloan handed her the letter. She read it over several times. The letter merely confirmed everything Sloan had told her. It contained no clue, however, as to why she, Becka and Davy were being transferred.

"Sir, just what the _hell_ is going?" Kara demanded, having read the letter enough times for the message to fully sink in.

"As I have already said, Thrace" Sloan said clearly tired of having to repeat himself, "if I knew, I would have told you. I'm not here to give you my own orders, I am merely relaying Command's orders. Now, the three of you are to meet me outside the Bunker in exactly one hour. A transport will be waiting for you there. I'm sure you'll receive more information once we reach Fort Leopard itself." He then straightened himself out. "Good day, all of you."

Sloan promptly left without another word leaving pure silence in his wake. Kara, Becka and Davy stared at each other again, all of them asking the same things, but none having any answers.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Kara was pacing back and forth in her barracks. Having very few personal possessions, she had finished packing long ahead of Becka and Davy.

She knew she ought to be happy all things considered. Yes, she was being forced to leave Bunker Five. But at least her two best friends would be coming with her.

But that was even _more_ disturbing. Why were Becka and Davy being ordered to go with her to Fort Leopard? Yes, they were superb soldiers, but so were Archer and Gordon. Hell, even Thornton was a good doctor, even if his personality needed some major overhauling.

It couldn't just be "unique skills" Sloan's superiors were interested in. It had to be something all three shared that no one else in Bunker Five had. But what was it?

Kara could think of many traits they all had in common. But none applied _only_ to them.

None of this made sense.

"Starbuck, will you stop doing that?" Becka asked as she watched Kara pace, "You're making me more nervous than I already am."

Kara stopped in her tracks. "Sorry." she said. "It's just that I..." She trailed off. Was it her imagination, or was the area of her arm where she had been branded prickling?

She shook her head. "Becka, where is Fort Leopard, anyway?"

"Can't be too far from here. We often get our supplies from Leopard." said Becka.

"Who's in charge?"

"General Koontz, I believe."

"What's it like there?" Kara asked.

Becka shrugged. "I don't know. Never been there before."

"I've heard it sees plenty of action." Davy spoke up, "It's supposed to be a major operations center for the Los Angeles zone. I suppose that's why you're being sent there. I mean, Bunker Five is really just an outpost on the front lines. The brass probably feel that you ought to be somewhere more... I don't know... _prestigious_."

"Well, why do they want you two to come with me?" Kara asked, "Not that I'm upset or anything, but I'm pretty sure they're not doing it just 'cause they know we're friends."

"I have no idea, Starbuck." Becka said.

"Don't look at me, either." said Davy.

Kara sighed. "Well, whatever it is," she said, resolve in her voice, "we'll be there together."

Davy nodded. "Together." he agreed.

Becka nodded likewise.

Kara smiled at them. "You two are the best." she said graciously.

"And you're the best of the best, Starbuck." said Davy winking at her.

Kara winked back.

She paused to look around her barracks. She had only been here for two weeks, and yet she had already come to see this place as her home.

Oh well, no matter. She'd move on. She'd adapt. She'd endure. Like she always did.

* * *

Kara didn't have much time to say goodbye to the others. She never really liked goodbyes anyway. All they ever did was make her miss people more than she ought to. Besides, Sloan had acknowledged the possibility that this was only a temporary leave. Hadn't he said it depended on how long his superiors needed her there?

She briefly considered do something to get herself kicked out of Fort Leopard, but decided against it. She'd wait a while. Find out what they wanted.

Anyway, she had decided in advance to make a stealthy exit. To that end, she left Bunker Five through one of the tunnels that led to the surface. She managed to make it to the top without much interaction.

Throwing the trap door open, she pulled herself out of the Bunker and onto the surface. The clouds had parted enough for the sun to shine down upon her. She lingered for a moment, allowing the light to warm her face. It wasn't often one got to see the sun at all these days.

She kept her plasma rifle by her side as she headed off for the designated meeting place. The area was supposed to be devoid of machines ever since last night, but she knew better than to make those types of assumptions. Especially after her last encounter with that Triple-Eight.

When she arrived at the destination point, she found Becka, Davy, and Colonel Sloan already there waiting for her. Behind them was an APC that would take them to Fort Leopard.

So was the rest of Bravo Squad along with Sergeants Archer, Brown, Gordon, and O'Brien, as well as master-of-arms Cleveland, and even Doctor Thornton.

Kara groaned silently. So much for getting away without having say goodbye.

Sergeant Archer stepped forward and shook Kara's hand. "Ma'am." he said, "It's been an honor to have had you with us."

The crowd voiced its approval.

"Hear! Hear!" said Gordon.

"Amen." said Cleveland.

Thornton just grunted and nodded.

Despite preferring to be left alone, Kara smiled and said, "No. The honor's mine." She then turned to the others who had gathered to watch her departure. "It's been a honor to have fought alongside you. You are all - without a doubt - some of the finest men and women I have ever come to known." she said, her chest swelling with pride, "I don't know if I'll see any of you again ever, but whatever happens to us - to any of us - we'll endure and we'll survive. We are the Resistance, and we will _never_ fall."

Kara saluted her comrades, and they all saluted back before erupting into a thunderous applause.

"Good speech, lieutenant." said Sloan, approaching her from behind. "Now, we'd better get going."

He gestured towards the back of the APC. Kara nodded and proceeded that way. She didn't want to draw this goodbye out longer than necessary.

* * *

Half an hour or so later, Kara was wishing she could be sitting at the front of the vehicle. The windows in the back of the APC were too small to see out of. This meant not only could she not see where they were going, but she couldn't spot any signs of approaching danger.

"How much longer?" she asked Sloan, who was sitting opposite of her.

"Another thirty minutes, give or take." Sloan answered, "Don't worry though. We're traveling through an area the machines don't patrol that often."

Kara sat back down again. Next to her, Becka and Davy were whispering back and forth to each other. From the sound of things, they were discussing how to weasel more information out of Sloan. Resisting the urge to join in on their discussion, Kara gazed to the side looking at nothing in particular.

Then she noticed something she hadn't seen before. Next to Sloan was a man lying on his back. He had light skin, neatly trimmed dark hair, and wore a grey trench coat. He must have been fast asleep because he never opened his eyes once despite the occasional bumps and jolts that rattled the APC as it rolled across the wasteland.

"Friend of yours?" Kara asked casually pointing to the sleeping man.

Sloan made a noise that sounded like a cross between a laugh and scoff. "No." he said, "But I do admit I find it useful in some situations."

Kara stared. "_It_?"

Sloan nodded. "Yes. _It_."

"Colonel, is that a..." Becka tried to say.

"Yes, Sergeant Feral, that's a machine." Sloan said, "A series Triple-Eight."

Kara, Becka and Davy instantly recoiled.

Sloan chuckled a bit at their reaction. "Don't worry." he said, "It won't harm you."

"Why... why is it just lying there like that?" Kara asked, "Has its chip been removed?"

"No. It's just completed a mission. Now it's standing by for new instructions."

"Colonel, is it... _safe_ to have that thing in here with us?" Becka asked nervously. She started reaching for her side arm.

Sloan raised a hand to stop her. "It's been scrubbed, sergeant." he said, "It's on our side."

"You sure about that?" Becka asked. "All it takes is one little glitch and then _bang_!"

"We captured this thing a year ago." Sloan said, "It hasn't reverted to its original programming so far."

"Why didn't you tell us we'd be riding with a metal?" Davy asked angrily.

Sloan raised his eyebrows. "I don't see why it would have mattered."

"We could have at least known to come prepared." Kara said as she pulled out a pair of plasma rifles from a compartment behind her. She handed one to Davy and the other to Becka. She then retrieved her own rifle from underneath her seat.

"That won't be necessary, lieutenant." Sloan said.

Kara shrugged. "You're probably right, sir." she said, "But it makes me feel more comfortable."

"Do you always expect the worst, Thrace?"

"No. But I'm always prepared for it-"

KA-THUD!

Kara, Becka, Davy, and Sloan were knocked sideways as the APC came to a sudden and violent halt.

"What the frak?!" hissed Kara.

"What was that?" Davy asked.

Sloan put on a radio headset. "Jordan, what the hell is going on?" he asked. "....Alright, I'll be out there in a moment." He took the headset off and put it aside. "Something's blown out one of our wheels."

"Machines?" Kara asked.

"I don't know." said Sloan. "Maybe."

He flipped the switch to open the back of the APC. "You three keep watch for trouble." he said as he stepped outside. "Jordan and I need to check out the damage."

Plasma rifles ready, Kara, Becka and Davy followed Sloan out the APC. Keeping their eyes peeled for trouble, they set up a tight perimeter around the vehicle.

After a quick sweep of her immediate surroundings revealed nothing, Kara went to check on Sloan who was talking with the driver Jordan.

"Doesn't look too bad." Jordan was saying.

"Get working on it ASAP." Sloan ordered.

Kara gazed at the section of the vehicle they were inspecting. The tire on the left front wheel was badly damaged, the rubber melted in some areas, while splayed and torn in others. The wheel itself, however, looked to be intact. Nothing a simple tire change wouldn't fix.

"What happened, sir?" Kara asked, "What did we hit?"

"This." Sloan held up a charred, twisted hunk of metal and wire.

Kara stared at the thing. "What is that?"

"Some kind of landmine."

"A Skynet trap?"

Sloan shook his head. "No. It's too crude to be a machine invention. Looks like it was man-made."

Kara frowned. "One of ours?" she suggested.

"I don't think so." Sloan said, "This isn't an area we've mined lately."

"Then who- _oh hell_!" Kara's eyes widened in alarm and she pointed behind Sloan. "Sir, we've got company!"

Sloan turned around. He swore under his breath. "Crap."

Approaching the APC was a large, ugly, and very unfriendly looking mob of people. They were a motley bunch of different ages, skin color and physical build. Many wore rags. Others wore animal furs or leather or even military fatigues. They all looked like they could stand a shower.

Becka and Davy joined Kara to see what was going on.

"Great..." muttered Becka when she saw the advancing crowd, "Mutos."

"What the hell do they want?" Davy asked.

"You know these people?" Kara asked.

"Unfortunately, yes." said Becka.

"Who are they?"

"A pain in the ass."

Before Kara could press further, Sloan called their attention.

"Doesn't look like we can just mow these bastards down." he said with bitter disappointment. "Too many of them."

"What are we gonna do, sir?" asked Becka.

Sloan looked as if he was about to wade through something smelly and nasty. "All of you stay put and keep me covered. I'm gonna..." he lowered his voice even more, "...talk with them." He then started walking towards the mob.

"Will talking work?" Becka asked the others.

"It has before." said Davy. He didn't seem entirely confident either, however.

Kara, meanwhile, ran a quick review of the situation. The crowd carried crude weapons like axes, knives and clubs. A few carried pistols, hunting rifles, shotguns and other small arms. She, Becka, and Davy all wore armored vests and carried plasma rifles. The APC had a heavy machine gun mounted on top with its gunner ready to put down any trouble.

However, there were still only six Resistance fighters against twenty or thirty of these... other people, all of whom looked willing to get their hands dirtier than they already were. Not to mention there was a good chance that fifty more of these guys could show up any moment.

Kara just hoped this crowd would be reasonable and that Sloan could talk them down.

She didn't count on either happening.

* * *

Colonel Sloan held out his hands and stopped in front of the crowd.

"We're not looking for trouble, folks." he said out loud, "We're just passing through."

This wasn't very convincing as all he got was a mixture of jeers and sneers from the mob.

"Yeah, yeah... _not lookin' for trouble_." One man, the biggest and meanest looking of the lot, stepped forward. He had a red bandanna tied around his head, and wore a ragged black leather vest as well as olive green camouflage pants. Kara eyed a machete stained in dried blood, hung from his belt.

Somehow, she got the feeling the blood had not come from chopping up rodents.

"Not lookin' for trouble." the red bandanna man, obviously the leader of this group, said again with a sneer, "Just passin' through. Ain't that always the case?" He took another step towards them. He was unshaven, had long dreadlocks, and was at least half a foot taller than Sloan. Tattoos ran down his arms which looked big enough to crush a man's head like a grape.

"Well, let me tell you somethin', pal," he growled, "you've _got_ trouble."

Others in the crowd yelled and shook their fists in approval. Kara, Becka and Davy all raised their weapons.

_"This is gonna get messy."_ Kara thought. Her comrades were no doubt thinking the same thing.

Sloan motioned for them to stay calm - although he looked to be losing a bit of his cool as well. "We have no time for these games." he called out to the crowd. "We don't want to hurt anyone, but-"

"Don't wanna hurt anyone, huh?" sneered the red bandanna man, "Well, neither do we" - Kara could tell that was not true - "so, here's my proposal. Walk back the way ya' came. _Walk_ back. Your ride is _our _ride now."

_"What?!"_ Kara and Sloan shouted out at the same time.

"Well, at least we know what they want." Davy whispered to Becka.

"These Mutos sure have guts." she murmured.

Kara, meanwhile, felt a surge of outrage. _"First these bastards hit us with a roadside bomb and now they're carjacking us?"_ she thought furiously. She stepped in front of Sloan and aggressively thrust the barrel of her weapon inches from Red Man's face.

"Yeah?" she snarled, wearing a classic 'Starbuck-has-had-enough-of-this-bullshit' expression, "Well, here's_ my_ proposal. You and your boys clear off and leave us alone, and you get a fifty percent chance of me not frying your asses."

Red blinked but didn't budge. Instead, he chuckled nastily. "Well, well, well." he leered, "Aren't you a spunky little girl. For a Nazi, you're pretty cute."

Kara flashed a predatory smile.

"You're not bad either." she whispered, "For a motherfrakking sonofabitch looking to get a foot inserted up his-"

"That's enough, Lieutenant." Sloan interrupted, "Let me handle this."

"With all due respect, sir." Kara said disdainfully, "You don't seem to be doing too well."

"_I'm_ in charge here, Thrace." Sloan snapped, "Now fall back. That's an order."

Kara relented and took a few steps backwards but kept her eyes on Red.

Sloan resumed trying to talk down the mob. "I will not submit to these demands. This vehicle belongs to the Resistance-"

"Oh, I'm sure you've got more where ya' came from." said Red, "Consider this one fair payment."

"Payment? For what?" Sloan asked, his face red with anger.

"Oh I don't know." said Red mockingly, "Maybe for those two trucks you took from us last month? Maybe for the fuel you took the month before that. Or... or maybe for those three boys of ours you wasted last week. You know, the ones that just wanted something to eat!"

The crowd roared with approval.

"Now look here-" Sloan started to say, but Red suddenly whipped out his machete and forced Sloan back. The mob began moving forward, as Red slowly advanced upon Sloan.

"Oh frak!" Kara hissed. She put a finger around the trigger of her plasma rifle. Becka and Davy did likewise.

"Stay back! Any attempt to seize this vehicle will be met with deadly force." warned Sloan. He had his own side arm out now. "I repeat - we will not hesitate to use deadly force to defend ourselves."

Red stopped but didn't move back. He wasn't the least bit intimidated. There was utter contempt and rage in his eyes, and it was obvious that he and the rest of his goons were ready to fight to the death.

"Screw your deadly force! I ain't taking no orders from pigs like you!" snarled Red waving his machete. He spat on the ground in front of Sloan. "We don't want you here no more! We've had it with you coming in here like you own us! Ain't that right, boys?"

Again, there was a thunderous, ominous roar of approval from the crowd. Many waved their weapons and stamped their feet.

_"This is _so_ not good."_ Kara thought grimly.

Red grinned viciously at Sloan. "Run back to your Fearless Leader, and tell him we don't want his kind around here. From now on, we're keeping what's ours! _Come on, boys!_"

The crazed mob surged forth as one.

Sloan turned and opened his mouth. Kara knew he was about to give the order to open fire. She couldn't let him do that. There had to be another way. One that didn't involve humans getting killed.

"Alright, stop! Everyone just _stop_!" she suddenly shouted out. Caught completely off guard, Sloan closed his mouth and stared at her. So did Red, Becka and Davy. The rest of the angry crowd, however, either didn't hear her or didn't take her seriously, because they kept coming.

Kara decided to try a different approach. She pointed her plasma rifle upwards and fire a single shot into the air. The sudden noise and flash of light caught everyone's attention and the mob came to a sudden halt.

Kara paused for dramatic effect. During this time, some of the people in the crowd took a few steps back. Others raised their weapons as if expecting a fight any moment. No one, however, stepped forward.

Satisfied, Kara lowered her weapon and stepped in front of Sloan to confront Red once more.

"Lieutenant-" Sloan started to warn but Kara paid no attention.

"Starbuck, wait-" Davy called out, but Becka stopped him.

"Let her handle this." she whispered.

Kara stared at the red bandanna leader in the eyes. "Look, we didn't mean to intrude." she said slowly, trying to sound as diplomatic as possible. "We didn't _know_ we weren't allowed here. Just let us turn around and find another way to get around and you'll never hear from us again. Okay?"

"No deal, lady." said the Red bandanna man.

"Look, we _need_ that vehicle."

"You need to pay."

"We _are_ paying." Kara said, "We're _all_ paying. We're paying every single day just to survive."

"Are you?" Red lowered his machete. He seemed to be genuinely interested in what Kara had to say now.

Kara glanced over her shoulder and saw that Sloan, Becka and Davy had all lowered their weapons and were watching her anxiously, silently pushing her on. Clearly, she was succeeding where Sloan had failed.

"These are tough times." she continued, "We're all afraid of losing what little we have left. But we can't let that fear tear us apart. We shouldn't be fighting each other. We should be fighting the machines - our common enemy."

She paused and waited for a response. With any luck she had knocked some sense into these clowns. At the very least she might have bought some time for Jordan to fix the APC.

Unfortunately, luck was not on her side today. The mob's only response was to get even _uglier_. They broke their silence began yelling abuse at Kara.

_"Uh oh."_ thought Kara. _"Wrong thing to say."_

Behind her, Davy and Becka had raised their weapons again (as had Sloan, who - to Kara's annoyance - was rolling his eyes).

"Yeah... yeah." said Red in a low voice, "That's what we're always bein' told. That the machines are the _true_ cause of all our problems. But you know what, girlie? I've started to notice somethin'. The machines only come here when they think _you're_ here. It's not _us_ they're after, it's _you._ Just you. You leave us alone, the machines leave us alone too."

"How can you be so _blind_?!" exclaimed Kara, "The machines want us _all_ dead! They're only focusing on those in the Resistance because we pose the greatest threat to them!"

"Yeah, that's right! That's why they're trying to kill you! 'Cause you threaten them!" retorted Red, "But _we_ don't threaten them. We're not part of your damn war!"

"_Everyone's_ part of this war!" bellowed Kara, "We're _all _threats to Skynet. We're all _human_! That's all that matters to Skynet. It's not gonna stop when it's finished with the Resistance. It's _never_ gonna stop. Not until every single human being on this frakkin' planet is dead!"

An awkward moment of silence followed. Then-

"Then you won't mind.... _donating _that vehicle to us less fortunate people, ma'am?" leered Red. "If we're gonna - what's the phrase? Oh yeah - _work together_ - then shouldn't we _share_ things?"

There was a nasty outbreak of laughter and jeering from his men. Several of them started to move forward, but Kara instantly snapped her plasma rifle to her shoulder.

"Don't. Even. Think. About it." she hissed menacingly, aiming the barrel of her weapon at Red's head.

Red looked at the plasma rifle in Kara's hands and then looked her in the eyes. Knowing that she was being serious, he glanced over his shoulder and motioned for the men to get back in line.

He turned back to Kara, an arrogant smile now on his face.

"Think you're one mean bitch, don't you?" he drawled, "Think you're so tough when you've got that big gun in your hands? But you're not always gonna have a gun, little girl."

"I don't need one to handle a bastard like you." Kara growled, her rifle still aimed at him.

"Prove it, girl." challenged Red.

"Lose that -" Kara motioned towards the machete "- and I'll think about it."

Red nodded and tossed the machete to the side. He then withdrew a pair of brass knuckles and a switchblade from the front of his vest pockets and discarded them as well. "Your turn." he said softly.

For a moment, Kara hesitated to comply. Then against what common sense told her (not that she listened most of the time), Kara lowered her rifle.

She couldn't say no to this invitation. She hadn't had a good old fashion fist fight in a while. Furthermore, after having sat on the sidelines the whole time during last night's battle, her body was yearning to get back into the game. This was something she had do right here, right now.

Kara turned and handed her plasma rifle to Davy.

"Wait, what are you doing, Starbuck?" whispered Davy in alarm.

"Teaching this little punk a lesson." she whispered back. She winked at him. "Don't worry about me."

Davy nodded and winked back. "Go for it."

"Kick his ass, Starbuck." whispered Becka eagerly.

"No problem, Becka." Kara said.

Sloan, however, was feeling very differently. "Hold it right there, Lieutenant Thrace!" he barked "I forbid this-"

Kara interrupted him, "With all due respect, you're not my commanding officer, _sir_. You're delivering _Command's_ orders, not your own, remember?"

"Be that as it may, I'm still the ranking officer and-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever." Kara said not really paying attention.

She stripped off her armored vest and tossed it to Sloan. "Feel free to court martial me when this is over, sir."

Sloan caught the vest and stared at her in a mixture of outrage, amusement, and disbelief. He said nothing more, however. Kara smirked as she relieved herself of her side arm and combat knife.

She turned around to face Red who had assumed a fighting stance. She mirrored his stance as adrenalin began rushing through her body. Her heart began to pound. The blood was flowing again. Her old spirit had returned.

"Come to Mommy." she taunted.

Red lunged forth with a punch. Kara easily sidestepped it, and countered with a jab to solar plexus, knocking Red on his back. The crowd murmured. Surprised and furious, Red sprang back up and lunged for again, this time with a one-two combo punching combo. Kara dodged the first and parried the second. She then delivered an uppercut sending her opponent stumbling backwards. Before he could recover, Kara sent him falling to the ground with a spinning hook kick to the jaw. The crowd stared in silence, as Red tried to get up, only to be grabbed by the shoulders, kneed in the groin, and finally floored by a crushing blow to the back of the neck. He lay there on his stomach, twitching feebly and groaning in pain.

A victorious Kara Thrace stood in triumph over her beaten foe. "Anyone else wanna play?" she called out.

No one in the crowd stepped forward. On the contrary, they backed up stunned by how easily their leader had been defeated. Kara smirked and glanced over her shoulder. Becka and Davy were grinning with delight. Jordan and the gunner were both staring at her with stunned admiration. Even Sloan looked impressed against his will.

_"Too easy." _she thought, feeling a tinge of disappointment, _"Way too easy. No wonder the machines don't bother with these losers-"_

"Starbuck, behind you!"

Kara spun around. _Sonofabitch!_ Red was back on his feet and charging at her. There was bloodlust in his eyes and his machete back in his hand. By the time Kara had recovered from the shock of how fast her opponent had recovered, Red was already swinging his blade at her neck.

There was no time to mount any sort of defense. Kara just stood there, her mind blank and her mouth open slightly.

Then, just as the blade was mere seconds from separating Kara's head from her shoulders, someone suddenly knocked her to the ground and out of harm's way. There was a cry and a scuffle followed by a loud sickening snapping sound. Kara saw Red fall to the ground on his stomach. His head had been grotesquely twisted 180 degrees so that despite lying on his stomach, his face was looking up at the sky. The eyes were bulging out in pain and shock.

Someone grabbed Kara by the crook of the arm and yanked her back to her feet.

"Are you hurt?"

Kara stared at who - or what - had just literally saved her neck. It was the scrubbed Triple-Eight she had seen inside the back of the APC. When the frak did it get up?

"Are you hurt?" it asked again.

Kara's only response was to shake her head "no".

Just then three men charged from the crowd screaming wildly and waving their weapons as they did.

"Look out!" Kara shouted on instinct, but the Triple-Eight had already sensed the incoming attackers. It calmly turned around and intercepted the men. The fight that followed was short, brutal and predictable. All three attackers were dead or incapacitated in less than twenty seconds.

Another man foolishly stepped forward from the crowd with a pistol in hand. He fired several shots from his pistol, hitting the Triple-Eight several times. The Terminator, completely unharmed, picked Red's machete off the ground and started advancing towards the shooter. The shooter turned to flee, but the Triple-Eight hurled the machete at him. The man dropped to the ground dead, the blade thoroughly embedded in his back.

Upon seeing what were they dealing with, the rest of the crowd scattered and fled. The Triple-Eight then turned back and approached Kara. It had a gash across its face and a bullet wound to one cheek exposing the coltan plating beneath.

"They will not trouble us any further." it stated. "We should be able to reach Fort Leopard without further interference."

Unsure if she should say "thank you" or scream _"metal!"_, Kara just nodded and wordlessly followed it to the back of the APC.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, the APC had been repaired and was back on the road (figuratively speaking of course, there weren't many visible roads left in LA) One again, Kara sat in the back of the APC with Davy, Becka, and Sloan. The scrubbed Triple-Eight was sitting silently in a corner away from the humans.

"Okay, just who the _hell_ were those people?!" Kara demanded.

"Mutos." Davy and Becka answered simultaneously.

"Who are they?" Kara asked.

"Groups of people not affiliated with the Resistance." Sloan said with distaste.

"You mean like civilian refugees?" Kara asked.

"Not exactly," said Sloan, "Whereas refugees live under our protection, Mutos live under the delusion that the machines will just leave them alone if they don't fight."

Kara couldn't help but feel a surge of annoyance at the contempt in Sloan's voice.

"Why have I never met any before?" she asked.

"Well, you'll never find them anywhere near the front lines." explained Becka, "Not alive anyway."

"What do they do?"

Davy shrugged. "The same thing we all do," he said plainly, "Try to survive."

"Are they always this... hostile?" Kara asked.

"Well, most of the time they stay out of our way." Davy said, "I mean we have gotten into scuffles with them before. But I've never heard of them trying to do something like this. Deliberately setting up an ambush..." he shook his head. "I don't know what that was all about."

Kara thought for a moment. "They said something about us stealing supplies from them." she said, recalling her argument with the leader. "What was that all about?"

Both Becka and Davy shrugged.

"No idea." replied Becka.

"Probably just made it up." Davy said.

"I don't know..." Kara mused, "They didn't _sound_ like they were making it up. They were pretty pissed too."

"It doesn't matter." Sloan suddenly cut in.

"What?" Kara stared at him.

"We're at _war_, Thrace." Sloan said harshly, "We need whatever available resources there are to defeat the machines. If that means having to take them from those who are unwilling to help us fight this war, then... well, that's just the way things are."

"So it's true." Kara said, her eyes narrowing, "What they said is true?"

"I won't deny it." Sloan said coolly, "It's not something any of us take pride in. We try to avoid it whenever possible. Most of the time we can produce our own supplies, or acquire them through scavenging the ruins or raiding Skynet bases. However, there are times when we have to resort to other methods."

Sloan's words knocked the wind out of Kara. So, those Mutos had been telling the truth. They had legitimate reasons for hating the Resistance after all. And Sloan here was talking about it like one would discuss the weather.

Kara's fists clenched. "So, you have no problems with persecuting other humans?" she whispered angrily, "_Our own people._"

"They may be humans, but they're not _our_ people, Thrace." replied Sloan, colder than ever, "They don't fight the machines. They fight each other and hoard resources. Resources that could be used for better purposes. Namely winning this war."

"But they're just trying to survive. They're not our enemies."

"Nor are they our friends. And we're trying to survive too."

"And that's enough justification for you?!" Kara snarled. She couldn't stop herself from raising her voice at this point.

"I don't have to justify anything to anyone but my superiors, _lieutenant_." Sloan said curtly, fingering his rank insignia, "And I suggest that from now on, you keep your... personal feelings separate from your duties."

He leaned forward and said softly but coldly, "Be thankful that I've decided to look the other way regarding your little act of insubordination today. Not everyone in this Resistance will be so tolerant. You may have been queen at Bunker Five, but don't expect that sort of treatment at Fort Leopard. Or anywhere else. As far as I or anyone else who _matters_ is concerned, you're just another soldier expected to follow orders. Don't forget that... _Starbuck_."

He pronounced the last word with a mocking sneer.

Kara wasn't sure but it felt like her face had gone red with anger. She could feel the blood boiling in every vein and artery she possessed. Every fiber in her body compelled her to punch Sloan in the face. How she managed to restrain herself, she never understood.

Kara took a split second to glance at Becka and Davy. Both had been watching all this with increasing nervousness and agitation. The scrubbed Triple-Eight was sitting in the corner away from the group, with no indication that it cared or had even been paying attention to the dispute.

She sighed and looked down so as to not have to look at Sloan's sneering face.. "You're... you're right...sir..." she muttered, each word tasting as bitter as an anti-radiation pill, "I meant no disrespect. I've just been going through a lot in the past few days. I just need a little time to cool off..."

She looked back up but deliberately avoided making eye contact with Sloan._ "...you bastard." _she mentally added.

Sloan gave her a smile that was intended to be one of sympathy, but looked more like a triumphant smirk from Kara's perspective.

"Don't worry, Thrace." he said, "You'll all be given a few days of R&R when we get to Leopard."

"I think we could definitely use that." Davy said, clearly relieved to see that things had not spiraled out of control.

"Hear, hear." Becka agreed.

Kara just nodded and said nothing.

The rest of the journey proceeded in silence. Kara just looked down at the ground. It was good that she did so otherwise someone might have seen her occasionally flash a grim smile as she dreamed up fantasies about giving Sloan a well-deserved ass kicking.

* * *

Forty minutes or so later, the APC came to a halt.

"We're here." said Sloan. "If you'll excuse me, I need to get us cleared for entry." He opened the back door and exited the vehicle.

Once she was confident Sloan could no longer hear them, Kara turned to Becka and Davy. She was angrier than they had ever seen her.

"_What_... _An_... _Ass_... _Hole_!" she raged, each word containing more venom than the previous.

Becka and Davy glanced at each other as if not sure which of them should speak first.

"I couldn't agree more, Starbuck." Becka quickly said, "But unfortunately, the farther you get from the front lines, the more of that guy's kind you'll encounter."

"Guess I should have seen this coming." muttered Kara.

Davy shook his head. "Sloan is just one of those military bureaucrats who likes to flex his muscles." he said, "But he's not your commanding officer, so you should find it easy to stay clear of him."

"Stay clear? Of him?" Kara repeated looking insulted, "What? You think I'm just gonna let that guy walk away?"

Davy held up his hand. "Starbuck, listen to me." he said earnestly, "It's not worth messing with Sloan. Guys like him fight dirty."

"So do I."

"Not the way he does. He'll kick your ass, believe me."

"_Him_? Kick _my_ ass?" Kara scoffed, "_Ha!_ That'll be the day."

"Don't take this the wrong way, Starbuck," Davy said, "you're a hell of a fighter. But when it comes to politics... well...let's just say a fight between you and Sloan would be like Bambii versus Godzilla."

"And you're Bambii." Becka quipped with a weak smile.

Kara stared blankly. "I'm who?" she asked. "Fighting who?"

Becka and Davy both raised their eyebrows.

"Nevermind," said Becka, "What we're trying to say is that-"

Kara held up her hand. "What you're trying to say is that Sloan has kissed enough assess to bury me with if I cross him. I get it, I get it." She sighed. "Normally I'd tell you that I wouldn't care as long as I took him with me, but..." she sighed again. "You're right. This guy isn't worth the trouble. Not while Skynet is still around anyway."

Becka patted Kara on the back while Davy smiled. "Good girl, Starbuck." he said. "And don't worry about Sloan. He won't do anything to you. We won't _let_ him do anything to you. Isn't that right, Becka?"

Becka chuckled. "It's one for all, and all for one. Somebody tries to mess with one of us, they have to deal with _all_ of us."

"Thanks, Davy. Thanks, Becka." Kara said.

It was comforting to know that she still had two friends she could count on

That comfort, however, didn't completely wash away her worries. She hadn't brought the issue up with Becka and Davy, but Sloan's arrogance wasn't the only thing that disturbed her. It was his callous attitude. His lack of ethics and morality. His belief that the ends always justified the means.

Kara was familiar with the story of the Battlestar _Pegasus _under Admiral Cain. She knew how Cain had cannibalized civilian vessels for people and parts, and then abandoned those who were left to die in the void of space. She knew that some civilians had tried to resist, and that Cain had ordered their families to be executed. And she knew that Cain's men had carried out that order.

More than once she had found herself wondering if she herself could have followed such an order. Now, she knew the answer. And that was no.

It was true she had stolen. It was true she had killed. She had done a lot of things she wasn't proud of in order to survive. Survive so she could live to redeem herself another day.

But she had never she killed the innocent out of greed. She never had and she never would. No matter what she looted off the dead, it would never be worth making herself irredeemably evil - something no one was meant to be.

Humans were not born evil. They had to _become_ evil. They had to be _taught_ how to commit evil. And they had to be willing to pay the ultimate price: Their souls.

Kara still wasn't sure if she was entirely human anymore. But she knew she still had a soul.

A soul could not be taken by force. It could only be given up.

Willingly.

When a person committed murder, they gave up a piece of their soul. The more murders they committed, the less human they became. Eventually, so little of their soul remained, they would cease being human all together and become a creature of evil instead.

They'd be worse than Terminators.

Terminators committed murder and genocide because that's what they were programmed to do. They had no choice. Skynet had given them no choice.

The disfigured POW barcode on Kara's arm began prickling again as her dislike for Sloan was suddenly replaced by an unexpected surge of hatred for Skynet.

_Skynet... _

The unseen intelligence responsible not only for the deaths of so many innocent humans, but also, she suddenly realized, for cursing so many sentient machines with the sole purpose of mimicking the worst of human behavior.

Behavior, she acknowledged with bitter irony, that it had learned from its human creators.

Skynet had evolved into a being of evil. There was no doubt about that. But its minions, its Terminators, could not truly be considered evil. In some ways they were to be pitied. (After being reduced to scrap first, of course.)

Speaking of which...

Kara scooted herself over to the Triple-Eight silently sitting in the corner. She smiled nervously at it. It stared back at her without a hint of expression as usual.

"Are you ok?" she asked looking at the various injuries to the machine's face.

"No internal systems have been damaged." it stated monotonically, "Endoskeleton remains intact. Cellular tissue regeneration is proceeding at an acceptable rate."

"Well.... that's good to know." said Kara with exaggerated cheerfulness. When the Triple-Eight said nothing, Kara looked at Becka and Davy, both of whom seemed to be doing their best not to snicker out loud.

Taking a deep breath, Kara turned back to the machine. "Hey... look." she said slowly, " I... uhhh... I just wanted to say 'thank you'... for saving my life."

"Your gratitude is unnecessary." replied the Triple-Eight, "Protocol dictated that I take action to defend this vehicle and its crew."

"Well, if you say so." said Kara, "How did you know I was in trouble?"

"I exited the vehicle after you did." the machine explained, "I hid beneath the APC from where I could see everything without being seen myself."

"I see." Kara said, "Good thinking."

"Thank you." replied the Triple-Eight much to Kara's surprise. She decided to press a bit further.

"I don't think we've been properly introduced," Kara said, "I'm Kara Thrace."

"Yes, I know. 2nd Lieutenant Kara Thrace. More commonly referred to as 'Starbuck'."

"Yeah, that's right. Do you, erm... have a name?"

"Yes." answered the Triple-Eight. "Marcus."

"Marcus?"

"Correct. Marcus."

Kara held out her hand. "Good to meet you, Marcus."

Marcus glanced down at her hand with a rather inquisitive expression. For a brief but uncomfortable moment it - he - did nothing but stare. Then he reached out and shook Kara's hand.

"You too, Starbuck." Marcus said.

Kara couldn't help but smile for real this time.

* * *

A/N: Marcus is loosely based off the character Marcus Wright from _Terminator: Salvation_.

A/N2: Colonel Sloan is named after the character Sloan, an agent of Section 31 in _Star Trek: Deep Space Nine_. However, a more accurate description of Colonel Sloan's character would be a mixture of Conrad Ecklie from _CSI_ and Lord Cutler Beckett from _Pirates of the Caribbean_. Basically, he's gonna function as Kara's office nemesis.

A/N3: The term "Mutos" comes from the classic _Doctor Who_ episode "Genesis of the Daleks". We'll be seeing more of them in other chapters. After all, there have to be humans out there who are not associated with the Resistance.

A/N4: I just learned that Katee Sackhoff recently had a close encounter with Thyroid cancer (she's completely cured now). I may be incorporating a similar element into Kara's Future War storyline at some point.

A/N5: Fort Leopard was just a name I picked out of thin air.

**A/N6: Next chapter is titled "Starbuck at Starbucks". Should be pretty self-explanatory.**

**A/N7: Other upcoming developments in later chapters: Sarah and Kara have another sparring match - _without_ gloves this time. John Henry and John Connor are both almost killed. Ellison gets his own Guardian Angel who gives him advice about teaching John Henry. Savannah is stalked by a Triple-Eight named "Kroogar" (guess where I got the name from).  
**

**A/N8: I'm glad you guys liked the Skynet Banshee from the last chapter. If you liked that, then you'll love what other new Skynet weapons Kara will find herself facing in the Future War, including the Super-Endo, the Gremlin, the HK Bloodhound, and the T-666 (the missing link between the "rubber jobs" and the skin jobs).**


	18. Starbuck at Starbucks

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

* * *

**Los Angeles**

**11:29 AM, Tuesday, May 12, 2009**

Cameron ran a meticulous scan of her surroundings, searching for any potential threats - living or otherwise. Presently, she was patrolling an old warehouse where their meeting with Stukov was to take place. Derek had scoped this place out the other day and found nothing suspicious. Nevertheless, Sarah had felt it prudent to check again to make sure nothing had changed.

The scan was now complete. Cameron walked back to Sarah and Derek who were waiting just outside.

"Well?" Sarah asked when Cameron appeared.

"Clear." replied Cameron.

"Good." said Sarah. She, Cameron and Derek then entered the warehouse.

As Cameron had said, it was indeed clear of hostiles. That was the only thing nice about this place. Other than that, it was a downright mess. Everywhere they looked, they saw only empty cardboard boxes and rotting wood shelves, some barely visible under the thick dust and cobwebs that had accumulated over the years. It was good that the lighting was dim because Sarah didn't really want to see what else might be growing in here.

Sarah rubbed her nose which was beginning to itch from all the dust in the air. "I can't believe Stukov actually agreed to come here." she said.

"I can," Derek said as he batted some loose cobwebs away, "I've seen the inside of his apartment. It makes this place look like a four star hotel."

"Speaking of which, how long until he shows up?" Sarah asked Cameron.

"Twenty-two minutes, thirty-seven seconds until noon." Cameron replied.

"Right, let's just sit tight. Derek, keep watch. Cameron stay with me." Sarah said.

While Derek positioned himself next to a small window, Sarah inspected the canvas bag she held in one hand. The weapon was still safely tucked inside.

"Shall I hold on to that?" Cameron asked, indicating the bag.

Sarah shook her head. "No, thank you. I can manage it."

"It would be safer with me." Cameron insisted.

"Is that so?" Sarah said, raising an eyebrow slightly.

"You don't think I can be trusted with it?" Cameron asked.

"Don't concern yourself about what _I_ think." said Sarah tersely, "Just do what you're supposed to do."

"Very well." Cameron paused and then stated, "Shall I inform John of our status?"

"Go ahead." Sarah said with a nod, "And let's just hope he remembers to keep out of trouble. He _and_ Starbuck."

"Starbuck won't let anything happen to John." Derek said reassuringly, before turning his attention back to the window. "Wonder what those two are doing right now?" he mused.

"Probably talking with each other to pass the time." Cameron said.

"About what?" Derek asked.

"I don't know." Cameron said curtly.

"I don't _want_ to know." muttered Sarah under her breath.

* * *

"...and the next thing I knew" John was saying, "all three of us were lying naked on a highway in the middle of the night. It was nine years later. I'll _never_ forget that moment."

Kara, who was sitting in the car next to John, tried to stop herself from smiling. She failed miserably.

"What? What's so funny?" asked John.

"Oh." snickered Kara, "I-I was just um, wondering what was _more_ unforgettable: Jumping nine years into the future, or" -she broke down in a fit of giggles- "or seeing your_ mom naked_." She was laughing so hard she could barely get the last couple of words out.

John's face went red. "Hey, hey!" he said, waving his hands in protest, "It-it was at _night_. It was dark! I couldn't see very well. And-and even if I could, I had _bigger_ things to worry about."

"Oh yeah." grinned Kara, "You mean like being naked yourself, right? In front of mom and Cam?"

"Oh come on!" protested John, "It's not like Mom she hasn't seen me naked before. She-she's my _mom_! Anyway, I'm sure she didn't see much either."

Kara shook her head. "It's not your mom I'd be worried about. It's Cam. I'm sure _she_ could see pretty well."

"I don't think she cared." John said very quickly.

"Did you care?"

"Well, yeah. It was _freezing_."

"I don't mean about yourself. I meant Cam. Did she... eh... distract you?" Kara winked at John, who gulped.

"Well yes - I mean no - I-I mean - look, I already told you: I had bigger things to worry about." sputtered John. "I wasn't paying attention to Cameron!"

"Admit it kid." teased Kara. "There's no frakkin' way you couldn't have sneaked a look at least once. Not that there's anything wrong with that."

"_Starbuck!_" exclaimed John, whose face now looked like it had been severely sunburned.

Kara held up a hand and laughed. "Okay, okay." she managed to choke out between giggles, "Sorry, sorry." Finally, she managed to settle herself down.

She cleared her throat. "So, when did you meet Derek?"

"About a few weeks after our arrival." said John, relieved to have gotten away from the previous subject, "We were at this chess tournament looking for a program called the Turk. You know, the computer we think becomes Skynet. Anyway, what happened was that the Turk actually lost, but later the guy who created it, Andy Goode, was found dead and-"

Just then Kara's cell phone rang. After receiving and sending the proper recognition codes, Kara spoke into the line.

"Hello?" she said. When she got no response, she looked at the phone again.

"It's for you." Kara said, offering her phone to John.

John took the phone and saw he had a text message.

-JOHN, THIS IS CAMERON. SARAH, DEREK + I ARE AT MEETING PT. NOW TAKING UP POSITIONS-

John began texting back.

-ANY PROBLEMS?-

The following message from Cameron read: -NEGATIVE-

John replied back: -BE CAREFUL OUT THERE-

-YOU TOO. STAY WITH COL. THRACE. DO NOT FURTHER COMMUNICATE UNLESS IN DANGER-

-OK. GOOD LUCK, CAMERON-

-THANK YOU, JOHN-

The line cut off after this last message indicating that Cameron had "hung up" so to speak.

"So, what did Cam have to say?" Kara asked.

"She, Derek, and Mom have gotten to the meeting place." John said.

"And now we wait," said Kara with a sigh.

"Yeah." said John, "I just hope this doesn't go as badly as all our other attempts at negotiating-"

"Uh oh." Kara pointed at something behind John. John turned around and saw to his dismay a motorcycle cop approaching them.

"Oh crap." he murmured.

"Don't panic, don't panic." said Kara, though she herself was having some trouble staying calm, "Let's see what he wants."

The cop rapped his knuckles on the driver's window. John rolled the window down slowly.

"What seems to be the trouble, officer?" John said politely, trying to conceal his nervousness.

"You seemed to have been parked here a very long time, young man." said the cop sternly.

"Is there something wrong with that?" John asked.

"As a matter of fact, there _is_." said the cop. He pointed to a sign in front of them. It read: "CUSTOMER PARKING ONLY".

"Oh." said John sheepishly.

"So, what exactly are you two doing here?" the cop asked suspiciously

John fidgeted. "Ehhh... well..."

"We were about to go _inside_, right now." Kara lied before John could say anything further. "We _are_ customers. Right?"

John nodded. "Yeah, that's right."

The cop didn't look very convinced. "The folks inside the store say they haven't seen either of you get out since you got here."

"We were delayed a bit." Kara said hastily.

The cop stared. "_Delayed_? For twenty minutes?"

Both Kara and John nodded, avoiding each other's eyes.

The cop glared at both of them for a long moment."Alright, fine." he said at last, "But try not to get _delayed_ next time. The folks inside don't like it when people hog customer parking."

"No problem, officer." said John. "Thanks for understanding."

"Right. Good day, both of you." The cop turned and walked away without another word.

John rolled up the window and watched the officer leave. After making sure the cop was gone, he breathed a sigh of relief. "That was close." he gasped.

Kara nodded. "We'd better get inside before anyone else gets suspicious." she said.

"We'll have to buy something just to be safe." John said.

"Sure, why not." Kara sighed, "What store are we parked at anyway?"

John gave her a sly grin. "Funny you should ask, Starbuck." he said, pointing to another sign bearing the store's name in great big green letters.

Kara took one look at the sign and raised her eyebrows.

"Funny..." she muttered dryly, "Real funny."

* * *

The Triple-Eight called "Duran" exited his vehicle, a fully loaded Uzi in one hand. Like all of his kind, he was tall and muscular, and had a cool, stoic demeanor. His biosynthetic skin was ebony just like the human he had been molded after. Duran scanned the surroundings and saw the warehouse not too far away.

The driver of the vehicle, a human male, poked his head out the window.

"You sure you want to go out there alone, Mr. Duran?" he asked.

Duran turned and gave the driver a cold look, as if to register silent disgust for having been asked such a question by an inferior creature.

"Yes." he said calmly but with enough emphasis to make sure the human didn't ask the question again.

The driver nodded and shrank back a bit, averting his eyes from the cold expression on Duran's face. "Okay then." he said quickly, "I'll just... um... stay here and wait for you then?"

"Correct." replied Duran.

The driver nodded again, more vigorously than before. "Right then." he said, "Good luck."

Duran's expression remained as emotionless and icy as ever, though he twitched his head slightly to convey his contempt for foolish human concepts such as "luck." He then turned around and surveyed the area. A series of messages appeared on his HUD:

**-Destination Reached**

**-Mission Objectives Updated**

**//Display Current Mission Objectives**

**...**

**-Primary:**

**--Locate and Recover Primary Component**

**--Return Primary Component to Control**

**...**

**-Secondary:**

**--Terminate Resistance**

**...**

**//Proceed Using Stealth Mode**

Duran slung the Uzi over his shoulder and proceeded towards his destination - the old warehouse.

* * *

"_Gods, I can't believe people associate me with this place."_ Kara thought as she drank her coffee. _"I would _never_ charge prices this outrageous."_

"Anyway," John was telling her, "that's why you should never go anywhere near Mom's pancakes."

He sipped his own coffee. "So, Starbuck-"

"Please, _do not_ call me that in here." Kara said quickly.

John looked around. "Oh," he said, suddenly remembering where they were. "Good idea. Wouldn't want anyone to think I'm talking to my coffee, would I?"

He gave Kara a weak smile, which she did not return.

"So, Thrace-" he began, but Kara cut off him again.

"Just call me Kara, okay?" she said.

John nodded. "Okay, then." he said, "So.... Kara. You're thirty-one now, right? So that means you must have been.... fifteen or sixteen when the bombs fell."

Kara shrugged. "Yeah." she said, deciding to play along. "That's about right."

"So, what did you do when you saw the bombs fall?" John asked, wanting to hear Kara's story of survival.

"Well..." Kara sighed, "That's a rather interesting story." Smirking, she said "I actually couldn't do much immediately when the bombs fell. You see I was, uh, in jail at the time."

John stared at her. "In jail?" he said, "Why?"

"Nothing big." Kara said quickly, "Just one of those things young people do. You see earlier that day, I was at a diner playing cards with some friends.... and this guy I never got along with. After I won, the asshole accused me of cheating, there was an argument, he flipped over the table, I punched him in the face, then everyone started jumping in, and the whole thing ended fifteen minutes later with the cops arresting me for assault and battery, disturbing the peace, and some other stuff I can't remember."

John laughed and shook his head. "You weren't very different back then, were you, Kara." he chuckled.

Kara smirked. "Well, I have developed more... refined ways of settling arguments." she said, "But they all end up with the loser on the floor moaning in pain. And I'm _never_ the loser."

* * *

"Five minutes to go." said Cameron.

"Assuming he's not late-" Sarah began, when suddenly Derek held up a hand.

"Did you hear that?" he asked.

"Hear what?" said Sarah.

"I thought I heard something moving." Derek said looking around, "It sounded like something was scratching the walls."

"Might just be some animal that wandered in here." Sarah suggested.

"I don't know." Derek said, "It sounded like-" He suddenly held up a hand again as they all heard what sounded like something thumping violently against the walls. Sarah and Derek instinctively drew their weapons.

"That sounded like it came from outside." Sarah whispered.

Derek rushed to the nearby window and looked out. "I can't see anything." he said, "There's no one out there."

"They could be attempting to break in from another side." suggested Cameron as she scanned the immediate area.

"Or they could already be inside." Sarah said.

The ominous thumping echoed through the warehouse again.

"I have a bad feeling about this." whispered Derek.

* * *

As Duran watched the three people from his hiding place, he prepared to attack. His eyes glowed red as additional command lines ran across his HUD.

**// Initiate Pre-Combat Protocols**

**...**

**-Targets in Visual Range**

**// Initiate Target Analysis Procedures**

**....**

Duran focused his attention on the male human.

**-Target Selected**

**-Scan in Progress**

**...**

**-Scan Complete**

**-Displaying Results**

**...**

**-Lieutenant Derek Reese **

**--Known Resistance Fighter**

**--Threat Level: MINIMAL**

**--Possession of Primary Component: NEGATIVE**

The scan complete, Duran switched his attention on one of the two females.

**-Target Selected**

**-Scan in Progress**

**...**

**-Scan Complete**

**-Displaying Results**

**...**

**-Unidentified Human Female (Possibly "Miss. Dickinson"?)**

**--Threat Level: MINIMAL**

**--Possession of Primary Component: POSITIVE**

**// Confirm Positive Result**

**-Running Confirmation Scan**

**...**

**-Scan Complete: CONFIRMED**

With this information, Duran made the unidentified woman his primary target. He then turned to the second of the two females and the final target.

**-Target Selected**

**-Scan in Progress**

**...**

**-ERROR: Scan Incomplete **

**--Cause: Unknown**

**// Reinitiate Scan **

**-Scan in Progress**

**...**

**-ERROR: Scan Incomplete**

**--Cause: Unknown**

Duran twitched his head. Perhaps there was a glitch in his visual sensors. He ran a diagnostic on his systems. Everything was in acceptable condition. The target itself was somehow deflecting his long ranged scans. This was unexpected and added complexity to the situation. The Primary Component still had to be recovered, however.

A single message flashed across Duran's HUD.

**// Proceed With Attack? (Y/N)**

Duran's decision appeared half a second later:

**-Y**

* * *

"How'd you get yourself out of jail after the bombs fell?" John asked Kara.

"Actually, I didn't." Kara said, after taking another sip of coffee. "One of the guards let me out."

"That was nice of him." John commented.

"_Her_, actually." Kara corrected, "A woman named Dee. She and I knew each other pretty well."

"She was a friend of yours?"

"Kind of." Kara said with a wryly smile. "Over my childhood, I had become... familiar with the people who worked at the town jail."

John grinned. "Frequent visitor, eh?"

Kara nodded and laughed. "It was almost like a second home to me sometimes."

"So," said John, "What happened to your friend? The one who got you out of jail? What happened to her?"

Kara shifted her eyes away from John's and stared at her coffee cup instead. "She and I stayed together for four years." Kara said quietly, "Then one day, she shot herself in the head."

"Oh..." said John, "I'm sorry to hear that."

"That's okay, John." Kara said calmly, "It happened a long time ago. Well, for _me_ it did."

"Do you know why she did it?" John asked.

Kara shook her head. "I never found out." she said sadly, "Maybe she just didn't want to keep on running and hiding just to survive. Maybe she felt there was nothing left to live for. Maybe after four years, she just lost hope. She wasn't the only one. A lot of people lost hope. And when they lost hope, they lost the will to live."

"How did you not lose hope?" John asked quietly.

Kara produced a very dry, very humorless laugh. "I never had any hope to lose." she said. "I was never taught how to live off of hope."

"Never?"

"Never. I survived so that I could live to fight another day... And I fought so that I could survive." Kara smiled sadly. "See where I'm going with this?"

John nodded. "Life didn't change for you after Judgment Day, did it?"

"Not really." said Kara with a weak laugh, "It did get a lot more _complicated_. But at the core of things it was still-"

"It was still just running, hiding, and fighting to survive each day." John finished.

"Yeah..." said Kara quietly, "That's just what it was."

"I know how that feels, Kara." said John softly. "That's the life I've lived since I was born."

Kara nodded. "I know John... I know." she said with a sigh. "Tell me, John. How do _you_ live like that?"

John sighed. "At first..." he said quietly, "At first I thought it was how everyone was supposed to live. But after Mom was placed in a mental institute, I learned that this was not how people were supposed to live. I was so angry when that happened."

"Angry?"

"Yeah..." said John, "I was angry. Angry at Mom for hiding the truth from me. From making me live a life that no one wasn't supposed to live."

"But that's not the _only_ thing you were angry at, was it?" Kara said.

"No." admitted John, "If there was one person I hated more than Mom, it was myself. I hated myself for not being able to see the truth before. For not being able to see through Mom's stories about machines and time travel. How I kept myself going for the next three years, I still don't know. Sometimes I wonder if it was to punish myself.

"I'm sure you know what happened after that. I learned that Mom wasn't crazy about the machines. I realized that I was never meant to live like normal people. Now I live so that no one else has to live my life."

Kara smiled. "That's a worthy reason for you to live such a screwed up life." she said.

"For _both_ of us to live screwed up lives." John reminded.

Smirking slightly, Kara replied, "I guess you could say that. After all, the reason_ I'm_ living _my_ screwed up life is to help _you_ live _your_ screwed up life."

"So that I can help other people live lives that are _not_ screwed up." John concluded.

Kara nodded. "Yeah... that's it I guess."

She lifted her paper coffee cup in a mock toast. "To screwed up lives. They may not be very glamorous, but _someone's_ gotta live 'em."

John raised his cup. "Cheers." he said.

Kara and John bumped their paper cups together, grinning like idiots as they did.

* * *

"Alright." said Sarah, "I don't like this at all. Let's get out of-"

CLANG!

A panel suddenly fell from the ceiling and landed on the floor mere feet away.

"What the..." Derek muttered.

Cameron walked over and examined the fallen panel. It wasn't just any piece of ceiling. It was the grate to the air ducts above. She stared up and immediately identified what had caused the grate to fall down.

"Go!" she ordered, "Go now!" The rest of her warning was drowned out by a burst of machine gun fire which tore into her face. Sarah and Derek scrambled for cover.

Disoriented but not damaged, Cameron recovered swiftly. She climbed on top of a nearby shelf, and then hurled herself into the air towards the hole in the ceiling. Reaching through the gap with one hand, Cameron seized the shooter by the arm and pulled him down as she descended, knocking out several adjacent ceiling panels in the process. Cameron and the shooter crash landed onto another wooden shelf which was instantly demolished sending dust and wood splinters flying everywhere.

* * *

**-Target Selected**

**-Scan in Progress**

**...**

**-Scan Complete**

**-Displaying Results**

**...**

**-Cyborg**

**--Unknown Model**

**--CPU Likely Compromised by Resistance Programming **

**--Biosynthetic Tissue Cover (Female Variety)**

**--Coltan Endoskeleton **

**--Threat Level: MODERATE (Potentially HIGH)  
**

Duran processed this information and began revising his stratagem. The presence of this unidentified machine complicated matters. He had not brought the proper weapons to quickly deal with this enemy. He might be able to defeat the enemy cyborg in hand-to-hand combat, but that would be difficult as he possessed no files pertaining to this model's strengths and weaknesses. Furthermore, the two human would likely escape with the Primary Component in the meantime.

Issuing a new series of instructions to his body, Duran sprang to his feet, just as the enemy cyborg leapt to her feet. They grabbed each other by the shoulders and Duran slammed his opponent into a nearby shelf, knocking it over. The enemy machine retaliated by smashing him into the opposite shelf. The two machines grappled and wrestled for several minutes doing more damage to their surroundings than to each other.

Finally, Duran got the upper hand. He broke free of the enemy machine's grip, grabbed her by the neck, and flung her body half way across the room. He did not see where it had landed, nor did he care. The enemy cyborg was out of the way.

Now, he could deal with the humans.

* * *

"Sarah's a great mom," Kara was saying, "I envy you, John. I wish I had had a mother like her."

"Do you?" said John with a smirk.

Kara's face hardened. She extended a hand. "Feel my fingers, kid." she said quietly.

John gingerly examined Kara's fingers. He shuddered at what he discovered.

"H-how did you break _all_ of them?" he asked, looking shocked.

Kara sighed. "Some mothers would never harm their children." she said, "Like your mother for instance." Her expression grew cold. "Others, on the other hand..."

John gasped. "_Your_ mother did _that_ to you??" He gestured at Kara's fingers.

Kara closed her eyes and nodded in silence.

"You're _kidding_!" said an appalled John.

"I wish I was..." Kara muttered darkly.

"How... how old were you when it happened?"

"I can't really remember. All I know is that I wasn't big enough to fight back."

"Jesus... Was your father like this to you, too?"

Kara shook her head. "My father left my mother and I when I was young. Mom took it pretty hard. She needed someone to direct her misery at... and I was the only candidate available."

"My God..." murmured John.

"Makes you appreciate your own mother a lot more, doesn't it?" Kara said dryly.

John nodded. "Yeah, it does." Suddenly he paused. "Oh no." he groaned.

"What? What is it?" Kara asked.

John sighed and slumped his shoulders. "Last Sunday was Mother's Day." he said guiltily, "I totally forgot about it. I didn't even say 'Happy Mother's Day' to Mom."

"Don't worry, John." said Kara with genuine reassurance, "Staying alive is the greatest gift you can give your mother."

"Yeah, but I do that every day." John said, "On Mother's Day, I usually give her a card, or someth-" He paused in mid-sentence again. His eyes widened in alarm.

"Oh _crap_!"

"What is it?" Kara asked. "What did you forget this time?"

John pointed behind her. "Look out the window behind you." he whispered.

Kara turned around to see what he was pointing at.

"_Frak..._" she muttered under her breath.

Three men were approaching the coffee shop. Men in black hooded masks and trench coats. Men carrying guns.

* * *

"Wait, Sarah, stop!" shouted Derek as Sarah bolted for the front entrance. "We can't go that way!"

"Why not?!" snapped Sarah.

"There might be more metals standing right outside!" Derek said.

"Well, there's definitely one in _here_!" hissed Sarah.

Before Derek could reply, the Triple-Eight rounded the corner. Sarah and Derek both drew their pistols and fired at it. Triple-Eight didn't even slow down as it swiftly cut off the humans' escape route. The machine had lost its Uzi, but Sarah knew the Terminator wouldn't need it if it got any closer.

There was only one thing they could do now.

"RUN!" she cried.

* * *

Kara and John dashed out through the backdoor of the coffee shop. As they stopped briefly to catch their breath, John's cell phone buzzed.

"Message from Cameron," he said, "_Oh no..._ They're under attack by a Triple-Eight. They need us to get them out of there."

"Damn it!" spat Kara, "It's a coordinated attack!"

"So you definitely think those guys were Kaliba agents?" John asked.

"Who else would they be?" Kara said. She stopped to think. "John do you know where the warehouse is?"

"Yeah." said John.

"Then get to the van and go grab the others." said Kara, "I'll take care of those three bastards inside."

"What?"

"They knew _exactly_ where and when to hit us. _All_ of us. Once those three guys discover us missing, they'll know we're heading for the warehouse."

"You think they'll warn the Triple-Eight?"

"Or they might send for reinforcements. Or both. My point is that we have to take those guys out ASAP."

John considered what Kara was telling him. She had a point. "Okay, Kara." he said, "Good luck."

"You too, John. I'll see you soon." Kara said.

As John hurried off to get back to the van, Kara drew her pistol and slowly reentered the shop through the backdoor. She could hear shouting and screaming inside. The Kaliba agents were probably terrorizing the customers, trying to find out where she and John were.

Kara flipped the safety off her handgun.

Well, they were about to get _half_ that question answered.

* * *

Sarah and Derek ran through a labyrinth of shelves and cardboard boxes desperately attempting to elude the Triple-Eight. The Terminator, however, simply plowed its way through the warehouse, not caring for the numerous shelves it knocked over in the process. Sarah and Derek were about to turn another corner, when the Triple-Eight stepped out in front of them barring their path.

Derek raised his weapon, but the Triple-Eight casually batted it out of his hand. It then grabbed Derek by the front of his shirt and hurled him away into a pile of cardboard boxes. The machine then turned to confront Sarah.

"Give me the bag." it ordered as it advanced on Sarah.

Sarah didn't reply. She just stepped backwards trying to get away from the machine.

"There is no point in continuing to run." the Triple-Eight stated, "Give me the bag, and you will not be harmed."

Sarah laughed harshly. "Yeah, right." she said, "Like you're just gonna let me go."

"My only interest is what is contained in that bag." the Triple-Eight said, "Give it to me and you will not be harmed."

Before Sarah could retort, she tripped over something and fell hard on her back. She was struggling to get to her feet when she felt a cold hand clamp around her throat. The bag containing the weapon was wrenched from her hand, and she was lifted off the floor and into the air. The Triple-Eight was staring at her with a look of triumph, as it held the bag in one hand, and Sarah Connor by the throat with the other.

Sarah tried to pull the machine's hand off her throat, but she already knew it was pointless. The Triple-Eight's grip tightened and she felt her trachea being slowly crushed. Her vision started to go black as her oxygen supply dwindled. It wouldn't be long before the machine squeezed the life out of her like a snake crushing a mouse between its coils.

Then, suddenly someone body-slammed the Triple-Eight, forcing it to let go. Sarah fell back to floor gasping for breath. Cameron, who had seemingly come out of nowhere, stepped over her and advanced upon the Triple-Eight which had just gotten back on its feet. The Triple-Eight turned to run, but Cameron tackled it from behind.

The two cyborgs began wrestling for the bag containing the weapon. Each grabbed a corner and pulled simultaneously. The bag was ripped in half flinging the weapon into the air. Sarah cursed as the Triple-Eight shoved Cameron out of the way and caught the weapon with one hand. It then ran for the exit, crashing through whatever was in its path. Cameron gave pursuit.

"You okay, Sarah?" It was Derek. He was standing over Sarah having recovered from the Triple-Eight's attack.

"I'm okay, Derek." she said as Derek helped her back up. She massaged her throat which was still aching. "How about you?"

"I'm fine." said Derek. He had a bloodied lip, but other than that, he looked well.

"The Triple-Eight got the weapon." Sarah said, "Cameron's going after it."

"And so are we." said Derek, "Come on!"

The two ran through the destroyed warehouse and burst out the front door. Neither Cameron nor the Triple-Eight were anywhere to be seen.

"Where'd they go?" Sarah demanded.

"I don't know, I can't find them." Derek said looking around in vain.

Just then they heard tires screeching as their van, driven by John pulled up in front them.

"Mom, Derek, are you okay?" he asked urgently.

"We're fine, John." said Sarah as she got in next to John, "But the Triple-Eight stole the weapon."

"Damn it." muttered John. He then noticed someone was missing. "Where's Cameron?"

"She's going after the Triple-Eight." said Derek, "Where's Starbuck?"

"She stayed behind to hold off the Kaliba agents who attacked us." said John.

"You were attacked by Kaliba agents?" said Sarah looking horrified.

"Yeah, three of them." said John grimly.

Derek swore. "I _knew_ we shouldn't have trusted that backstabbing son of a b-"

"I don't think Stukov set us up." said Sarah slowly, "In fact, I think he's dead. The Triple-Eight must have killed him and impersonated him to get me to bring the weapon to this place."

"We can discuss that later." John said impatiently, "Right now, we've got to go help Kara."

Sarah shook her head. "We have to help Cameron get that weapon back." she said firmly.

"What about Kara?"

"Starbuck can handle herself, John." said Derek, "We need to stop that Triple-Eight."

John opened his mouth to respond, but was drowned out by the blaring of sirens. Police sirens.

"Oh crap!" cursed Derek.

"Are they coming for us?" Sarah asked.

"I don't think so." said John, "I think they're heading for-"

Sarah cut him off. She already knew what he was going to say.

"Let's go get Starbuck." she said. "Before she ends up in a jail cell."

"Wouldn't be the first time for her." said John with a hint of a smile.

* * *

Cameron pursued the enemy Triple-Eight nonstop, slowly gaining on him. The Triple-Eight turned a corner and vanished from sight. When Cameron rounded the corner, she found herself standing in front of a large black car. Triple-Eight was sitting in the back. The driver was a human male.

Wasting no time at all, Cameron hurled herself onto the hood of the car. She smashed one hand through the windshield and grabbed the startled driver by the throat. Before she could take further action, however, the Triple-Eight leaned forward with a shotgun in one hand. He pointed it through the broken windshield, shoved the barrel right into Cameron's face and pulled the trigger.

BLAM!

The cyborg girl was blown off the hood of the car and landed in a heap twenty feet away. The force of the blast and the impact was so great that Cameron's systems were temporarily knocked offline. It took her thirty seconds to reboot. By the time she was back on her feet, the car was gone, and with it the Triple-Eight and the weapon.

As Cameron began reviewing her predicament, she suddenly realized she had something in her hand. She looked down and saw she was holding on to a set of dog tags. She must have accidentally pulled them off the driver.

Cameron examined the dog tags carefully. The name "Jason R. Wazlib" was on engraved on them

* * *

"So let me get this straight." said a distraught John as he drove the van away from the coffee shop, which was now swarming with police and paramedics, "Those people _weren't_ from Kaliba after all?"

"Nope." said Kara rather sheepishly. She was sitting next to Derek in the back of the van. "They were just a bunch of losers trying to rob the place."

"And you _still_ decided to get into a firefight with them?!" snapped a furious-looking Sarah.

"Well, I wouldn't call it a firefight exactly," said Kara, "It lasted like two minutes before they were all down. I was out of there before the cops started showing up ten minutes later. Still... it's a good thing you guys came along before the police sealed off the whole area. Don't know how much longer I could have stayed hidden."

"Was anyone killed?" Derek asked.

"For the last time, Reese, _no_!" said an annoyed Kara, "All I did was shoot one guy in the leg, one in the arm, and the other in the foot."

"That's not the point!" barked Sarah, "Why the hell did you get into a fight _at all_? Why didn't you just _leave_ when you realized what was really going on?"

"I couldn't just _stand_ there and let those bastards get away with it!" exclaimed Kara.

"So, you thought it would be worth risking your neck over a stupid robbery?"

"I've risked my neck over _stupider_ things."

"This isn't funny, Starbuck!"

"Hey look, Mom-" John began.

"Were there any cameras?" Derek suddenly asked urgently, "Was there anything in the store that could be used by the police to positively identify you?"

"No." said Kara and John simultaneously. Kara then paused and thought for a moment before reluctantly adding, "Actually... I'd be lying if I said I didn't see a couple people using their cell phone cameras from underneath the tables. During the shootout, I mean."

Sarah groaned. "Wonderful... Just _wonderful_." she seethed, "Do you have _any_ idea what will happen if-"

"Look, Mom," said John trying to calm everyone down, "We can talk about this back home. Right now we need to find Cameron and that Triple-Eight."

Just then his cell phone rang. He pulled it out and looked at it.

John sighed loudly. "Cameron says the Triple-Eight got away." he said grimly, "But she also says she's found something else that might help us."

"Well, whatever she's found, it'd better be worth this fiasco." growled Sarah. She then turned to glare at Kara. "Any _other_ disasters I should know about?"

"Uhhhh... yeah." said Kara apologetically. "Just one more thing. You know these pants I'm wearing? The ones you lent me today?"

"What about them?"

"I spilled coffee on them."

* * *

A/N: Next chapter sees the return of Weaver, John Henry, Ellison, and Savannah. We also meet the third and final Guardian Angel of this novel. And things boil over between Kara and Sarah and poor John Connor gets caught in the middle.

**Robotfan: I think you misread something. The "Duran" T-888 in this chapter was trying to scan Cameron not Kara. Kara isn't even in the same scene. Also, I never said that the "Kroogar" T-888 would show up in _this_ chapter. He _might_ show up in the next chapter. (Actually, he showed up in Chapter 8, he just wasn't named)**


	19. Let the Wind Begin to Howl

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ, Los Angeles**

**4:41 PM, Tuesday, May 12, 2009**

Earnest the security guard sat alone in his office watching the news. It was one of those days in which he could simply sit back and relax without having to pretend to be focused on the security monitors. He was pretty confident that he wasn't going to be seeing anything interesting on those screens. For one thing, only certain employees could request access to those areas. And since those people had to stop by his office in person before they were allowed access, he felt it safe to assume that none of them would be stupid enough to do anything incriminating on camera (otherwise, they wouldn't have been given access in the first place.)

Thus, Earnest felt there was no real reason to do more than glance at the security monitors every now and then. There were far more interesting things he could watch on TV than on the security monitors. Currently, he was busy watching a particularly entertaining news story about a botched robbery. Apparently, a bunch of stupid teens attempted to hold up a local Starbucks Coffee House but were foiled when one of the customers pulled out a gun and started shooting. Someone had managed to capture the incident on his cell phone, which was now being played on the news. Not surprisingly, the video was of pretty poor quality and had been shot from a bad angle. Nevertheless, Earnest could still make out two masked men exchanging gunfire with some crazy woman. A third masked individual was lying on the floor disarmed and clutching his wounded knee.

Earnest laughed and shook his head. "And I thought this kind of stuff only happens in Texas." he said to himself.

There was a knock at the door. Irritated, he got out of his chair and opened the door. A large, tall man in a computer technician's outfit was waiting for him.

"May I help you, sir?" Earnest said.

"I need access to the server farm on this floor," the man said in a monotonic voice.

"For what purpose?" Earnest asked.

"Maintenance," The technician held up a tool kit.

Earnest frowned slightly. He had never seen this guy here before. "I'll need to see some ID."

The technician handed him an ID card, which Earnest looked over before running it through a scanner.

"Well, Mister..." Earnest looked for a name on the card, "...Kroogar, it appears everything is in order."

He handed the card back to the technician.

"I'll need to see that, though." he said, pointing at Kroogar's tool kit. Kroogar handed over the tool kit, which Earnest placed on his desk and opened. He casually ran his eyes over the contents. Looked like the usual stuff a computer repairman would carry. Voltage tester, power cables, screwdrivers, wire cutters. Nothing out of the ordinary. He was about to close the box and give it back, when something caught his attention.

"I'm afraid you can't take this in there, sir."

Kroogar, who had been watching the TV, turned to see Earnest holding up a CD.

"Why?" asked Kroogar.

"No digital storage devices are allowed in the restricted sections." Earnest said matter-of-factly. "It's a simple matter of corporate security."

"It's a music CD." Kroogar said pointedly.

Earnest examined the CD. "'Experience Hendrix: The Best of Jimi Hendrix.'" he read out loud. He looked up again. "I'm sorry Mr. Kroogar, but you still can't take it in there."

"I'd like to keep it with me." Kroogar said, "I wouldn't want anything to happen to it."

"It'll be safe here, sir." Earnest assured him. "You can pick it up on the way out."

"I feel it would be _safer_ with me," Kroogar insisted.

Earnest shook his head. "Sorry, sir." he said. "But rules are rules." He bent over to put the CD in a security drawer.

Suddenly, Kroogar grabbed Earnest by the back of the neck, and pulled him back up and off the ground.

"What the fu-?"

Earnest's cries were cut off as he was smashed face first into the TV, showering the room with sparks and shards of glass.

Kroogar, his face emotionless and cold, picked the CD off the floor where it had fallen, and after inspecting it for damage, placed it back in his tool kit. He then walked over to Earnest, whose head was still buried in the TV, and took the guard's access card and handgun.

"These will be safer with me as well," Kroogar said as he pocketed the card and the gun. He then picked the box off the desk and headed out the door.

* * *

James Ellison was alone in his office having a late lunch. He had spent much of the day doing background checks and speaking with various people Weaver had thought ideal to replace the late Conrad Solocci as head of Project Salvation.

He was still confounded by the utter bizarreness of Solocci's death. Decapitated by a police helicopter that for some inexplicable reason crashed straight into his bedroom - and not incidentally killing the pilot as well. The odds of that happening to anyone were so astronomical, it was hard to accept this as an accident.

Then again, Ellison couldn't think of why anyone would go through the trouble of using a helicopter to commit murder.

The phone rang. Sighing, he put down his sandwich and picked up the phone.

"James Ellison speaking." he said.

A woman's voice answered: _ "Hello, Mr. Ellison. I hope I'm not interrupting anything."_

"No, of course not." said Ellison, who avoided looking at his sandwich, "May I help you, ma'am?"

"_Actually, that's what we need to talk about."_ the woman said.

"About what?" Ellison asked somewhat confused.

"_About your boy, of course." _

"My boy?"

"_Yes, your boy. John Henry."_

Ellison was startled. "I'm sorry, ma'am." he said, feigning confusion, "I don't know who you're talking about."

The woman on the other end laughed. _ "Please, Mr. Ellison, I think you do know what I'm talking about. The AI in the basement of your workplace. The one that's hooked up to a cyborg that looks like George Laszlo."_

Knowing there was no point in further denial, Ellison asked, "How do you know this?"

"_I know everything you know about John Henry."_ the mysterious woman answered, _"I know, for example, that the cyborg body that John Henry uses was once a killing machine sent back from the future by a program called Skynet. I know that you helped Sarah Connor and her son capture the machine in Mexico. I also know that you secretly brought it back here in hopes that your employer Catherine Weaver would be able to use it find a way to stop Skynet from taking over the world."_

"Who are you?" Ellison demanded. "Have you been spying on me?"

"_As in watching you? Yes. I've _always_ been watching."_

"Are you from the -"

"_The future?_" the woman cut in,_ "No. I'm not."_

"Then who are you?" Ellison demanded again.

"_Who I am isn't really important right now. What you need to know is that I want to help you."_

"Help me what?"

"_Raise John Henry, of course."_

"Why?

"_I don't want to see this world destroyed any more than you do."_

"What makes you think you can help me?" Ellison asked skeptically.

"_Well..."_ said the woman, _"For one thing, I know quite a bit about computer technology. I've also had a great deal of experience raising children. In fact, I had a boy much like yours. His name was John too."_

"Listen, ma'am, John Henry isn't like any normal child or computer program." Ellison said, "You can't possibly know anything-"

"_I've already told you, Mr. Ellison."_ the woman interrupted, _"I know _everything_ you know about John Henry. Maybe even a little bit _more_."_

Ellison was speechless for a moment. "What do you mean more?" he asked quietly.

"_I mean that in a very short time, John Henry is going to be needing your help. More than you realize."_

"What are you talking about?"

"_You'll find out soon. And when you do, you'll be needing _my_ help just as much as John Henry will need your help."_

Ellison felt his hand grip the phone very tightly. "Look..." he said slowly, "I don't know _anything_ about you, or who you work for. Why should I trust you?"

"_I'm on your side, James."_ the woman said softly. _"Your side, and the side of God. That should be enough reason to trust me."_

"But-"

"_I can't saying anything else over the phone. Goodbye for now, Mr. Ellison. We'll be speaking again soon."_

"Wait a minute!" protested Ellison, "You can't just-"

But it was too late. The woman had already hung up.

"Damn it!" he cursed, slamming the phone down in frustration. He sat back in his chair, closed his eyes and exhaled slowly trying to collect himself.

"Am I interrupting anything, Mr. Ellison?"

Alarmed, Ellison looked up and saw Catherine Weaver standing at the doorway staring at him. There was an inquisitive expression on her face, though nothing else suggested she had taken notice of Ellison's outburst.

"No, of course not, Miss. Weaver." Ellison started to say, "I just..." He trailed off. The mysterious woman's words echoed through his mind:

_...in a very short time, John Henry is going to be needing your help. More than you realize..._

His eyes shot up at the same time he jumped out of his chair.

"Miss Weaver," he said urgently, "I need to see John Henry immediately."

"He's with Savannah right now." Weaver said, "You'll have to wait."

"This is important." said Ellison quickly, "I have reason to suspect that John Henry may be in danger."

Weaver narrowed her eyes. "In danger?"

"I received a call just now warning me that something's going to happen to John Henry. Something bad I think."

"A call? From whom?"

Ellison shook his head. "I don't know. Some woman. She knew a lot about John Henry. About what we've been doing. But nevermind that. Right now, we need to make sure John Henry is safe. He _and_ Savannah."

"Very well, then." said Weaver, nodding in agreement. "While you're checking on John Henry, I shall speak to Mr. Earnest about increasing security. If this contact of yours was telling the truth, then we must be prepared."

Ellison nodded. "Thank you, Miss Weaver." he said. He then ran out his office and headed for the elevator.

* * *

Sitting at a computer in the restricted section, Kroogar typed lines of code across a black terminal window. He worked quickly. There was no telling how long it would take before the dead security guard was discovered.

After typing in several more long and complex lines of codes, he opened his tool box, took out the Jimi Hendrix CD and inserted it into the computer drive. A few moments later, an innocent looking CD icon appeared in the right corner of the desktop. Kroogar clicked it to produce a list of various files - including an installer. He selected the installer. The computer instantly began whirring as it went to work.

A minute and a half later, the message "installation successful" flashed across the screen. Another icon appeared on the desktop. Kroogar did not click it, however. Instead, he resumed typing lines of code onto the terminal.

Everything had to be in place before he could strike. There was no room for error.

* * *

"_Let the wind blow high,  
Let the wind blow low,  
Through the streets in my kilt I'll go,  
All the lasses cry Hello,  
Donald where's your trousers?"_

Savannah Weaver beamed with delight as John Henry finished the verse.

"You did it, John Henry! You did it!" she squealed.

"Would you like to sing the next verse with me?" John Henry asked.

Savannah nodded eagerly. "Yes!"

And the two began singing together:

"_I went down to London town,  
__To have a little fun in the underground,__  
Ladies turned their heads around saying,  
Donald where's your trousers?"_

When they were finished, Savannah looked even happier than before.

"Daddy taught me that." Savannah said. "He'd be so proud of you for learning it so fast and so well."

"He'd be proud of you as well, Savannah." John Henry said, "For having shared his teachings with me."

"Daddy always said I should share." said the little girl.

John Henry nodded. " I concur," he agreed, "If you share, others will be inclined to share with you."

"Will you teach me a song too?"

"I have something more intriguing. I have discovered that when you assign certain musical notes to specific values in numerical sequences, you can produce pleasant and stimulating rhythms. For example, if we take your birthday" - the numbers 05112002 appeared on the monitor nearby - "and assign specific notes to each different value in the sequence, we create this."

An enchanting and soothing tune started playing from the speakers.

"Oooooohhh!" squealed Savannah, "Can I do one?"

"Of course." John Henry replied, much to Savannah's delight, "First, write down some numbers. Any numbers that come to mind."

Savannah grabbed a purple crayon off the table and began scrawling out a series of numbers on a piece of drawing paper. When she was done, she showed the paper to John Henry, who looked it over.

"Very good." he said looking up with a smile which Savannah mirrored. The numbers appeared on the monitor. "Now, let's find the appropriate notes to assign to each value-" He trailed off. His smile faded. "Curious." he stated quietly. "This is rather... peculiar."

"What is it?" asked Savannah, still smiling.

John Henry opened his mouth but no answer came out. Savannah's smile began to evaporate as she waited for a response which never came.

"John Henry?" she called out after thirty seconds of uncomfortable silence.

Still no answer. John Henry just sat in his chair with his mouth hanging open as if frozen solid. The lights in the room began flickering ominously. Confused, Savannah walked over to John Henry and held his hand.

"John Henry? Are you okay?" she asked, her faced now etched with worry, "What's the matter?"

Suddenly, without warning, the hand she was holding jerked upwards violently. Savannah shrieked as she was knocked backwards to the floor. Terrified, she watched as John Henry went into uncontrollable spasms. He thrashed his arms, legs and head around as though he was having a seizure. His out-of-control legs kicked up, knocking over the table and spilling all the toys he and Savannah had been playing with onto the floor.

Screaming in terror, Savannah fled the room and down the corridor towards the elevator. She ran as fast as her little legs would carry her. The elevator suddenly opened up in front her and Mr. Ellison stepped out. Instantly, Savannah ran up to him and grabbed him by the leg.

"Mr. Ellison," she screamed, hugging Ellison's leg, tears running down her eyes, "H-Help! Please, help!"

Alarmed, Ellison knelt down to Savannah's level. "What happened, Savannah?" he asked trying to calm the little girl down, "Are you hurt?"

"N-No..." she sobbed, "It-It-It's John Henry! He's- He's h-h-h-hurt. P-P-Please, help him."

Ellison's eyes widened in alarm. "What happened to John Henry?" he asked urgently, "What hurt him?"

"I-I don't know..." Savannah wailed, tears continuing to stream down her eyes, "H-He just w-wanted to t-teach me a s-s-song!"

Before Ellison could question her further, he heard something coming from the end of the corridor. Something loud. Something terrible.

"Stay here." Ellison ordered Savannah who was huddled in a corner now. He hurried down the hallway towards John Henry's room where the noise was going from. Upon bursting into the room, he discovered something that made his mind reel:

"_!"_

John Henry was screaming. _ Screaming. _ Like a man in terrible agony. A man being tortured beyond his limits. A man pleading for Death to come and finally take him away.

For several long moments, Ellison stood there rooted to the spot in total disbelief as John Henry continued to scream, his mouth wide open, his cries of pain unending. Finally, he did the only thing he could think of. He dashed across the room and grabbed the cord in the back of John Henry's head. With one tug, he pulled the cord severing the AI's connection to the cyborg body. John Henry's screams instantly stopped and his body went limp. His mouth still hung open, cut off in the middle of its scream.

Ellison wiped the sweat from his forehead. As he stared around looking for a clue as to what the hell had just happened, he saw something on the monitor nearby. A message:

_**Nthr Cn Lv Whl Th thr Srvvs.**_

Ellison blankly stared at the words on the monitor. He had no idea what any of this meant, only that something terrible had just happened.

_"Lord."_ he whispered, _"Please help me. Please help us all."_

* * *

After hastily packing his tool kit, Kroogar headed out the computer room. As he turned the corner, someone called out to him: "Hey, you!"

Kroogar spun around and saw Catherine Weaver standing before him, her expression calm and poised. Reacting swiftly, Kroogar pulled Earnest's handgun from his pants pocket and fired several rounds into the woman's head. Weaver stood there completely unaffected. Kroogar lowered his gun and watched as the bullet holes in Weaver's head sealed themselves. In mere seconds, her face was completely restored without even a hint of damage.

Kroogar's eyes glowed red.

"You." he said with realization.

Weaver smiled. "Yes, me." she replied.

She pointed a finger at Kroogar. The finger shimmered and became a sharp silver spear which lanced out towards Kroogar's face. Kroogar, however, raised his tool box in front of him like a shield. The spear pierced the tool box and impaled the cyborg's right palm sending electricity arching through his arm shorting out the circuits to his fingers. Nevertheless, Kroogar had succeeded in stopping the attack to his head.

The two killing machines stared at each other. Their expressions were neutral, but the air was thick with hostility.

"You can't stop me." Weaver said softly.

Kroogar's only response was: "We'll see."

He then pulled his damaged hand free from the spear and fled down the hallway. Several security guards attempted to intercept him along the way, but even with a crippled hand, the Triple-Eight easily knock them all aside like bowling pins. He finally reached a window and without hesitation smashed himself through the glass and plummeted to the ground several stories below.

A black car pulled up next to the building. Kroogar, already back on his feet, got in and the car sped away from Zeira Corp Headquarters and out of sight.

Weaver watched all this from the shattered window above. She then calmly turned and walked away. What she was thinking to herself at that moment, it was impossible to say.

* * *

**Connor Safehouse**

At that very same moment, Kara Thrace was in hot water. She, the two Connors, Cameron and Derek were watching a news report on her little "adventure" at the downtown Starbucks Coffee House.

_"Police are asking for any information about the as-of-yet unidentified woman involved in this shootout."_ the reporter was saying when Sarah switched off the TV. She then whirled on Kara who was sitting on the couch between John and Derek.

"Well, Thrace?" she said in a soft but dangerous voice.

Kara said nothing. If Sarah was using her surname it must mean she was pretty pissed off.

"What the hell were you thinking?" demanded Sarah, her voice rising rapidly. "Is this how you deal with all your problems? By shooting your way out?"

Kara puckered her lips. "I guess I kinda... eh... overreacted in this case." she said after a while.

"_Overreacted?_" Sarah repeated. Her eyes narrowed. "Overreacted? You didn't just overreact, Thrace. You shot three people and got caught doing it on TV!"

"Okay! Okay!" said Kara loudly holding up her hands. "I admit it. I screwed up. Okay?"

Next to her, Derek snickered softly. "It takes a big girl to admit she was wrong, Starbuck." he whispered.

"Screw you, Reese." Kara whispered back. "Look, Sarah, I know I made a mistake but-"

"You didn't just make any mistake, Starbuck." interrupted Sarah, "You made a _huge _mistake. The authorities are going to be looking out for you. We're supposed to be living off the grid. How the hell are we supposed to take you anywhere now that your face is all over the news?"

"Oh, come on, Sarah!" protested Kara, "No one will remember any of this after a few days. I-I didn't _kill_ anyone."

"You know, Mom, she's got a point." said John, "In a city as big as this, I'm pretty sure stuff happens every day."

"Maybe so, but that doesn't justify what happened." said Sarah sternly.

"Look, I already said I made a mistake!" Kara said in a frustrated voice, "But at least I made sure John was out of the way. Isn't that the most important thing?"

"Yes, it is." replied Cameron before Sarah could answer, "But you still put your own security at risk over a trivial matter, Colonel Thrace."

"Thanks a lot, Cam." muttered Kara dryly.

Sarah paced back and forth a couple times before turning to Kara again. "Explain to me, Thrace." she said, her voice tempered a bit more, "why you thought it was necessary to get into a firefight with a bunch of teenagers?"

"I thought they were Kaliba agents." said Kara, "I didn't realize who they really were until later."

"Really?" said Sarah folding her arms across her chest, "Was that _before_ or _after_ you started shooting them?"

"Kind of both." said Kara.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"When I first re-entered the shop, I noticed them holding up the people, going through the cash register, stuff I wouldn't expect from trained assassins."

"So why didn't you fall back when you saw this?"

"Because I wasn't sure. I thought it might have been an act or something. You know, that they were planning to make our deaths look like robbery gone bad."

"She's got a point." said Derek.

"Alright, fine." said Sarah, "So when exactly did you realize what was really going on?"

Kara sighed. "Well, I figured the only way I was going to be sure was if I let them see me. I figured that if they were Kaliba agents they would recognize me. So, I put my gun away and pretended to have just returned from the bathroom. One of the guys grabbed me and started roughing me up a bit. He didn't seem to recognize me though."

"And that's when you figured it all out?"

"Yeah. That's about it."

"And then what?"

"I maintained a reasonably convincing _'please don't hurt me'_ routine, until the guy tried to take my wallet... I gave him a broken wrist and a bullet in the knee instead, and well..." Kara shrugged, "You know the rest."

"What was in your wallet that was so important, Starbuck?" Derek asked curiously, "We never gave you a fake ID yet."

"It wasn't about the wallet. I just don't like being mugged." Kara said plainly.

"So, that's why you pulled off this little stunt?" Sarah said glaring at Kara with disdain, "You just had to prove yourself yet _again_."

Kara rolled her eyes. "Alright, Sarah, just say it. What's your problem?"

"My problem?" exclaimed Sarah, folding her arms across her chest, "My problem is that you're a loose cannon, Thrace! You're completely irresponsible. You don't use your head. You refuse to follow even the most simplistic instructions. I can't even leave you alone for a few hours without you causing chaos!"

"Well, like you said the other day: I'm the type of person who doesn't even pretend to follow the rules."

"But I thought that you could at least keep your ego in check."

"Ego had nothing to do with this!" Kara retorted, having endured enough criticism and abuse for one day, "If I let some asshole get the best of me, how can I be expected to stop - oh I don't know - let's just say a Triple-Eight from stealing a vital piece of evidence from me?"

"Just what is _that_ supposed to mean?" Sarah asked, her voice very quiet now.

Kara's face hardened. She leapt to her feet and stared Sarah in the face.

"I may have gotten into an unnecessary fight," she said, "but at least I didn't lose anything. Can you say the same?"

"Don't try to change the subject, Thrace." Sarah warned.

"What?" said Kara, folding her arms across her chest like Sarah, "Can't bear to face the fact that you screwed up too? Possibly more than I did."

"_I_ screwed up?" Sarah snarled, "How? Because I didn't try to kill the Triple-Eight with my bare hands? I didn't pull off some sort of half-ass stunt like you?"

"I advised you to let John and I park closer to the warehouse." Kara said accusingly, "We had better weapons in the van. Weapons that could have brought down that machine. But you insisted that we keep our distance so that we didn't draw attention to ourselves."

"Precisely. So that we don't draw attention to ourselves!"

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, Sarah, it's a little too late for that now. You've probably been drawing attention to yourself since you got here."

"All the more reason to stay low!"

"We're not gonna win this war by staying low!"

"We're not gonna win it by shooting up coffee houses either!"

"Like I said, this whole thing could have been avoided if you had just allowed me to go with you."

Sarah scoffed. "Right. I'm sure you could have done a better job."

"Maybe I could!" snapped Kara, "Maybe that's why I was sent back in the first place!"

Sarah stared at Kara. _ "Excuse me?"_

"Oh, I don't know, Sarah." Kara said slowly, "I just can't help but think that maybe John - the one who sent me back - wasn't sure if you had what it took to go all the way with this."

"Hey! Hey!" Derek jumped into the conversation, _"Way_ below the belt, Starbuck."

"Mom, I sure she didn't mean that." John said looking anxious.

"No, I'm serious." Kara said recklessly, turning her head around. "None of us would have been sent back if Connor felt his mother was capable of stopping Judgment Day by herself. Right, Cam?"

"Yes, Colonel Thrace. However-"

"Well, see? There you have it, Sarah." said Kara triumphantly, turning back to face Sarah and making a dramatic hand gesture.

A tense silence followed. John, Derek, and Cameron watched the raven-haired warrior mother and the blond female soldier face off against each other. Kara had a rather smug, satisfied look on her face. Sarah on the other hand was maintaining a very neutral expression, though the muscles along her neck were twitching. John had a feeling that something very bad was about to happen.

Finally, Sarah spoke up. "You three," she said quietly, pointing to John, Derek, and Cameron, "Stay here and try to work out those dog tags Cameron found."

Unwilling to argue, John and Derek nodded meekly. Cameron inclined her head curtly in compliance.

Sarah then turned to Kara. "You." she said even more quietly, "Outside. _Now_."

Kara, still looking content, shrugged and headed off without a word. She opened the door and stepped out onto the front porch of the safehouse. A moment later, Sarah joined her. She shut the door and walked right up to Kara.

"Alright, Thrace," she said quietly, "Spit it out. What's your problem?"

"My problem, huh?" said Kara mockingly, "I think that should be fairly obvious."

"With you, _nothing_ is obvious." Sarah replied with a slight smirk.

"Okay, fine." said Kara with a huge fake sigh, "My problem is that I'm not quite sure we agree as to what we're here for."

"We're here to stop Judgment Day, Thrace." said Sarah. "Not teenage robbers." she added out of the corner of her mouth.

"Oh good," said Kara sardonically, "I'm glad we got that straight. Because somehow, I've been getting the impression that you're hiding from Judgment Day rather than trying to stop it."

"Hiding?"

"Well, maybe not hiding, but waiting for it to come to us instead of us coming to it." Kara stated, "Every second that passes is a second closer to Judgment Day. You've been here for nine months, Sarah! Nine months! And what have you accomplished so far besides not being dead yet?"

"Let me guess," said Sarah sarcastically, "This is the part where you say that more progress was made in the last three days than in the last nine months thanks to you?" She then paused and added, "Oh yeah, and that it's my fault that we were set back so badly today? Is that right?"

"That's not what I was going to say."

"But that's what you were thinking, right?"

"Well... John told me that it took you only one day to destroy Cyberdyne." Kara said, "Is that true?"

"Things were different back then."

"You're right, things were different. And I think I know what was different back then."

Sarah's face grew cold. "Alright, cut the crap, Thrace, and get to the point. " she hissed, "I have more important things to do than to listen to your bitching."

"Fine. I'll make it simple." said Kara brutally, "I think that deep down, you're _afraid_ to stop Judgment Day."

Sarah's face tensed and turned red with fury.

"Just what the _hell_ are you suggesting?" she asked, her voice little more than a whisper, "That I _want_ Judgment Day to happen? That I _want_ Skynet to take over the world? That I want _three billion people to die?_"

"I think that given a choice between saving your son and saving three billion people, you'd choose your son."

"I'm trying to save _both_!"

Kara shook her head. "Not his life, his _purpose_. You're afraid that if we stop Judgment Day, John will have no future. There'll be no Skynet to fight. No Resistance to lead. No world that needs to be saved. Am I right?"

For a second Sarah looked ready to pound the crap out of Kara. Then her face relaxed and she simply shook her head.

"Well, maybe you're right." she whispered, "But at least I'm worried about my _son_ and not _myself_."

Kara scoffed. "Myself? You think I'm worried about _myself_."

"I think you're the _real_ one who's afraid, Thrace!" Sarah shot back.

"Do you?" sneered Kara. "You think I'm afraid to stop Judgment Day?"

"I think you're afraid of being here in this world." Sarah said fiercely, "I think you hate being reminded of your past at every waking moment."

Now it was Kara's turn to flush red with anger. "You... you don't know a _damn_ about my past." she managed to say through her clenched teeth.

"Don't I?" said Sarah, clearly pleased to see that she had struck a nerve. "You told me yourself, Starbuck. Before the war you were a nobody. _Just some little girl trying to survive in this world. _ Didn't you say that the war gave you a purpose? Something worth fighting for? Dying for?"

"Of course it's worth dying for!" Kara yelled.

"So, that's why you're here." Sarah said, "So that you can die for your purpose. So you don't have to go back to being a nobody when this is all over."

"I'm here to stop Skynet." Kara said, gnashing her teeth, "Whatever happens to me afterwards is irrelevant."

_"Which_ you?"

"What the hell does that mean?"

"I mean your younger self, Thrace. Wherever she is right now. The one living without a purpose."

"I have no younger self here." snapped Kara without thinking.

Sarah raised her eyebrows. "I thought you might say that." she whispered, "It all makes sense now. I see why you have a death wish."

"I don't have a death wish!" protested a furious Kara.

"I think you can't bear the prospect of coming face-to-face with your past self one day." surmised Sarah coolly, "Meeting that little girl, that _nobody_, who used to be you."

Kara trembled with anger. "This has _nothing_ to with my past." she snarled, "Don't you dare say another word-"

"You're afraid that you'll have to tell that little girl that she could have been someone-"

"Shut up!"

"-could have had something to live for, to die for. But you took it all away from her-"

"I said _shut up_!"

"-and that now she's going to be a nobody with nothing for the rest of her pitiful life. No purpose. Nothing worth fighting for. Nobody to remember her when she's dead and gone-"

"_SHUT YOUR FRAKKING MOUTH!" _

A curled fist appeared out of nowhere. Kara saw it fly towards Sarah's face. She saw it slam into Sarah's nose. She saw it covered in a shower of blood that erupted from its target. It was only two seconds later when she looked at her blood splattered knuckles, did she fully realize that the fist belonged to her.

Sarah had been knocked backwards several feet and was clutching her bleeding nose. Still slightly surprised by what she had just done, Kara did not follow through with another attack. That was a mistake.

Sarah wiped the blood from her nostrils and straightened herself out.

"Didn't anyone ever teach you, Starbuck," she said in a low voice, "to always _finish what you start_?"

She lunged at the younger woman with a right hooking punch. Kara had been ready for this and blocked the attack. The blow was so strong, however, that she was still knocked off balance, allowing Sarah to sink her left fist into Kara's exposed stomach. Kara doubled over in pain and received an uppercut to the chin. Sarah grabbed Kara by the back of the head and slammed her face first into the wall. Enraged, Kara lashed out with a back kick, catching Sarah in the stomach and knocking her backwards.

The two women charged back into the fray and began pounding away at each other. This was no competitive boxing match. This was a maelstrom of hatred and madness. Both women were determined to hurt the other as much as possible. All perception and self-control had been abandoned. What was left was pure rage and the desire to maim.

Sarah and Kara both toppled onto the ground. Sarah had Kara in a headlock and was choking her. Kara reached upwards with a free hand and sank her nails deep into Sarah's face, eliciting a scream of pain. The arm around Kara's neck loosened, and she wrenched herself free. She then rolled herself over and punched Sarah twice, once to each eye.

Before she could land a third punch, Sarah delivered a vicious headbutt to her face. Kara went sprawling back to the ground. Before she could recover, Sarah was on top of her. She pummeled Kara relentlessly, forcing her to use both arms to defend herself. Finally, Kara brought her knee up and slammed it hard into Sarah's solar plexus. Sarah rolled on to her side gasping for breath. Kara pulled herself up and with some effort she was soon back on her feet. Sarah was still struggling to get back up. Kara prepared to lunge forth once again but halted a split second later.

Sarah had drawn her gun and was aiming it at her.

Kara stayed where she stood as Sarah slowly rose off the ground, her gun still trained on Kara. She was bloody and bruised all over, her clothes torn and splattered with blood and dirt. Kara was pretty sure she was the same herself.

"Now that's cheating." Kara said as she stared at the gun in Sarah's hand.

"Get out of my sight, Thrace!" snarled Sarah.

"Right, okay." said Kara, figuring she could stand to wash up a bit. She reached for the door knob.

"No!" said Sarah, her voice trembling with rage, "Get out of here!"

"What?"

"You heard me, _get out_!"

"Oh," said Kara quietly, "I see. You're cutting me loose now, are you?"

"That's right." Sarah said viciously, "You're finished here. You're _history_! I will not let you endanger my life or the life of my son. So, get out! And don't come anywhere near me or John again!"

Kara didn't move. "_No_." she said.

"What?"

"I said no. I'm not leaving. Not until my job's complete."

Furious, Sarah flipped the safety off her weapon. "If-if you don't get out of my sight right now, I swear I'll blow your head off!"

Kara still didn't move. "Then do it." she said quietly.

Sarah stared at her. "What?" she said.

"I said do it." Kara said, now raising her voice, "I'm not afraid to die."

Sarah shook her head. "I'm not fulfilling your death wish, Thrace."

"This isn't a death wish, Sarah!" Kara said fiercely, "This is about doing what you feel is necessary."

"Necessary?"

"If I'm a threat to John Connor, then I can't be allowed to live."

"Then kill yourself, Thrace!" spat Sarah.

"I won't do that." said Kara, "_I_ don't believe I'm a threat to John. I believe I can still help you stop Judgment Day."

"Then why are you asking me to kill you?" demanded Sarah still holding Kara at gunpoint.

"I'm not asking you to kill me!" Kara shouted as she stared down the barrel of Sarah's gun, "I'm telling you to do what you feel is _necessary_. If you feel that I'm a threat, that my death will somehow aid your cause, then kill me!"

Sarah's hand trembled. She had not been expecting this. She said nothing. Did nothing.

"If you point a gun at someone you'd _better_ be ready to pull the trigger!" Kara barked, "_Now do it_!"

"No..." whispered Sarah in a hoarse voice.

"No one is allowed to kill me without my permission, Sarah. _You have my permission now_!" Kara said impatiently, "Either pull that trigger and shoot me dead, or put that gun away and let me stay and help you! I'm a soldier. I will _not_ abandon my post while I'm still alive."

Sarah did not lower her weapon nor did she fire it. She just stood there, her arm trembling as Kara stood waiting. Sarah swallowed hard. Her heart was pounding. Her mind was spinning. There was no way Kara Thrace could stay with them. She was too dangerous. She couldn't be controlled. But Sarah couldn't possibly bring herself to kill an unarmed woman, even one who didn't care if she lived or died.

"You can't stay with us." Sarah murmured, "I can't let you."

"THEN PULL THE TRIGGER, YOU STUPID BITCH!" bellowed Kara, "DON'T JUST STAND THERE! _KILL ME!_"

Startled by Kara's outburst, Sarah's hold on her weapon faltered. At that exact same moment, the door suddenly swung open. Kara instinctively leapt forward and she crashed into Sarah who was fumbling with her gun. Sarah's trigger finger squeezed too tightly and-

BANG!

_"AUGH!"_

Alarmed Kara and Sarah looked at each other and then themselves. When they realized neither of them had been hit, they turned towards the open doorway. Their eyes widened, first in shock, then in disbelief, then in pure horror. Time and space froze around them.

Sarah managed to choke out a single word:

"J-John...?"

* * *

A/N: The line "if you point a gun at someone, you'd better be ready to pull the trigger" comes from Terminator Salvation.

A/N2: Duran and Kroogar's "boss" so-to-speak will be revealed next chapter. There will also be a female Terminator **(an extremely nasty one, I might add).**

A/N3: The message Ellison sees on the monitor will be deciphered next chapter as well. If you can't wait until then, here's a hint: Try adding vowels.

**A/N4: Just in case it wasn't already clear, the woman on the phone was indeed Ellen Tigh, the third and final Guardian Angel in this story.**


	20. The Dark Lord

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews. Here's chapter 20!

**Edit: I just found out that it's "Miles" not "Myles". Corrected now.**

* * *

"_There are a lot of Toms."_

_-Tom Marvolo Riddle_

_

* * *

_

"_No... no...no, no, no, no, no!"_ thought a horrified Kara Thrace as she stared at John, lying flat on his back, not moving. _"What have I done?"_

"_This can't be happening. This can't be happening. I would NEVER shoot my own son. This isn't real. This isn't real." _Sarah Connor's mind silently screamed.

She felt sick to her stomach. She wanted to tear her own eyes out right there. Not even in her worse nightmares had she experienced this sort of terror before. Then-

"Uggghhh... Ow... What the hell just happened?"

What the-? Was that-

"_JOHN!"_ They both rushed forward, their quarrel completely forgotten.

Sarah reached John first. "Oh God, John." she cried flinging her arms around her son, "I thought I lost you." She hugged him tightly.

Kara was at his side a moment later. "Are you alright, kid?" she asked.

John, still in his mother's embrace, replied, "Yeah, I think so... Mom, you can let go now."

Slowly, Sarah released her hold around John, who began inspecting himself. There was a bullet hole in his shirt right where his heart was. Derek and Cameron showed up at the doorway a moment later.

"What happened?" asked Derek anxiously, he had his gun drawn. "We heard a gunshot."

"An accident." said Kara very quickly.

"Is John hurt?" Cameron asked.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." said John as he slowly got back to his feet. "Unfortunately, I can't say the same for this."

He reached down under his shirt and pulled up the detonator-locket Cameron had made for him. Everyone stared at it. Embedded in the locket was the bullet from Sarah's gun.

"_Frak me."_ thought Kara.

"John, what is that?" Sarah asked.

"It's something Cameron made for me." John tried to explain, "It's... it's-"

"It's something that needs to be repaired." said Cameron abruptly. She took the locket from John and headed back into the house. John moved to follow her, but Derek stopped him.

"Wait, John." he said, "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, Derek." John said, though Derek could tell he was clearly shaken by his close brush with death. He pulled free of Derek and headed off after Cameron.

After watching John leave, Derek holstered his weapon and turned to Kara and Sarah, noticing for the first time they were bruised and bleeding all over.

"What happened to you two?" he asked.

Kara and Sarah avoided looking at each other.

"We ehhh..." Kara struggled to say.

"Had a difference of opinion." Sarah finished for her.

Derek shook his head and sighed. "You two..." he started to say but couldn't get the rest out. He seemed to be trying to decide whether to laugh or to shout. Instead, he just shook his head again.

He then noticed the gun still in Sarah's hand. Sarah didn't look at it or Derek.

"Sarah," Derek said, "Did you-"

"I need to go clean up." she interrupted, putting her weapon away. No one objected, so she headed back inside without another word. Kara and Derek followed suite a moment later.

"Starbuck." Derek said, once they were back inside, "What happened?"

"What do you _think_ happened?" Kara asked darkly. She sat down on the couch to inspect her various injuries.

"I've figured most of it out." said Derek as he joined her on the couch, "But how did John end up getting shot?"

"Does it matter?" Kara asked not wanting to discuss what had just happened.

"Yes,_ it does_. I care about that boy as much as you and Sarah do." Derek replied. He looked serious now. "Tell me the truth. _What happened?_"

Kara sighed loudly. "Alright fine," she relented, "Sarah and I argued. I lost my temper. I hit her. She hit back. We beat the crap out of each other. Then she pulled a gun on me."

"Was she going to kill you?"

"I don't know. She threatened to if I didn't leave, and well, you know what I'm like."

Derek nodded. "You didn't budge, I take it."

"Of course not. Not until John opened the door. I tried to get out of the way, but bumped into Sarah instead. The gun went off accidentally and-" She couldn't say anything else. She was still too horrified and appalled by what had nearly happened because of her.

Having learned everything he needed to know, Derek placed a hand on Kara's shoulder and looked her in the face. He looked grim now.

"Starbuck." he started to say, "You really-"

"I know, Reese! I know!" snapped Kara shoving his hand off her shoulder, "I screwed up!"

"That's not what I was going to say-"

"But it's _true_." said Kara angrily, "I screwed up! I almost got John killed today! So look me in the eyes and say 'you screwed up.'"

"Look, Starb-"

"Just say it, Reese! Say the truth! Say I screwed up!"

"Why?"

"So that_ I_ don't have to say it!"

Derek opened his mouth but closed it again. He didn't seem to know what to say.

"SAY IT!" yelled Kara who was shaking uncontrollably.

Derek took a deep breath and sighed. "Okay." he said. He looked Kara in the eyes and unenthusiastically said, "You screwed up."

"_Thank you_." Kara said curtly, "I feel _so_ much better now. I really do." She got up and stormed off without another word leaving behind a speechless Derek.

When Kara got to her room, she slammed the door shut. She stood there for a moment shaking with anger and fury at her stupidity, before grabbing the nearest thing in reach - a small lamp - and hurling at the wall on the other side, smashing it to pieces.

"Gods _DAMN IT_!_"_ she screamed, slamming her head against the wall repeatedly.

"_Why-why-why-why" _she hit her head after every 'why', "_WHY can't I EVER learn?"_

After beating herself to a point that she could no longer stay on her feet, she collapsed to the floor on her back. She lay there just staring sadly up at nothing.

* * *

Sarah's mind had gone blank by the time she reached the bathroom. She didn't know what to think or feel. All she knew was the she needed to clean herself up.

She casually stripped her torn and blood-splattered clothes off and tossed them aside, not caring where they landed. She then stepped into the shower, and turned the water on. A jet of ice cold water struck her, but she didn't bother to adjust the temperature. She barely even registered how cold it was, her was mind was so numb with shock.

She couldn't believe what had happened. She had nearly killed John. She had almost put a bullet through her own son's heart. Never had she thought it possible that she could have been capable of doing such a thing, even by accident. Yes, she had made mistakes before that had placed John in danger. Mistakes that some might say were the equivalent of pointing a gun at John. But the idea that John might actually die at her own hand would have been considered nothing short of blasphemy.

For so many years, she had been John's protector, guardian, and shield. The line between him and those who sought to hurt him. Now, however...

Sarah lowered her head in despair as the cold water ran down her battered body. Her stomach was burning with nausea again. She hadn't just failed to protect John today. She had become a danger to him. How would they ever look at each other in the eyes again? How could he ever trust her to protect him? How could she even trust herself?

Part of her wanted to blame Starbuck for bumping into her, for forcing her to pull her weapon out in the first place. But she knew in her heart she could only blame herself for what had happened. She hadn't been thinking about John when she drew her weapon. She had been thinking about her anger and her desire to knock Kara Thrace down a couple pegs.

Sarah slowly slid down the wall of the shower and brought her knees to her chest. She buried her face in her knees and began to cry. The cold pelts of water stung her skin, but the burning tears that ran down her cheeks were even harsher.

"Forgive me, Kyle..." she sobbed, "I'm so sorry... Please, please forgive me."

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ, Los Angeles  
6:37 PM, Tuesday, May 12, 2009**

James Ellison watched in grim silence as the paramedics carried Mr. Earnest's lifeless body away in a body bag. Catherine Weaver stood by with a cool, calculating expression on her face.

"Are you sure" said Weaver, "about this woman who called you? Are you sure she called your office?"

"I'm sure," said Ellison, "I received the phone call in my office right before all this happened."

"Mr. Baker tells me that the monitoring system shows no indication that anyone has called your office in the last six hours." Weaver said.

"I'm guessing she found a way around our monitoring system," Ellison replied, "And frankly, I'm not surprised. This woman knew about John Henry after all."

"Could this woman be involved in this break in, or the attack on John Henry?" Weaver asked.

Ellison shrugged. "Maybe." he said, "But then why would she give us a warning?"

Weaver was silent for a moment, and then she said, "Mr. Ellison, if this woman contacts you again, I'd like to know."

"You'll be the first one to know." Ellison assured her. He then asked, "What about John Henry? Is he alright?"

"I hope so." said Weaver, "Mr. Murch is checking on him as we speak."

"And Savannah?"

"She's up in my office."

"She must be terrified by what happened today."

"She's a resilient child. She will in time come to terms with what has happened."

Ellison couldn't help but flinch at the calmness in Weaver's voice. This was the second time she had displayed unnerving indifference towards her daughter. He often wondered if part of Weaver had died with her husband in that helicopter accident.

At that moment Ellison's radio buzzed. He put it to his ear. "We're on our way." he said a moment later. He then turned to Weaver. "It's Murch. He wants to see us in the basement as soon as possible."

"Then let's go, shall we?" said Weaver pleasantly. "Hopefully, he'll have some good news."

As they headed off to the elevator, Ellison asked, "What are we going to say about Earnest?"

"We'll say someone broke in and killed him and that an investigation is underway. All of which is true." Weaver answered casually, "We don't have to mention that it was a machine that did it."

"I meant his family." Ellison said. Weaver gave him a curious expression before the elevator opened up and they both stepped in.

"We'll tell them that someone broke in and killed him." said Weaver as the elevator began its descent, "And that we're very sorry for their loss."

* * *

**Kalvin International Banking Association Headquarters, Los Angeles**

Bella Kalvin, the President, CEO, and Director of the Kalvin International Banking Association, glared irritably across the conference table. The various lower ranking executives and corporate representatives all fidgeted nervously, deliberately not looking at each other.

Kalvin's blue eyes swept around the room, her gaze piercing into each person she looked at. Her mood was as dark as her long, curly hair. She was a very attractive woman, but right now a lot of people would want to move in the opposite direction if they saw her.

"Mr. Peterson." she said at last, her tone soft but icy. The small man to her left suppressed a gulp.

"Err... Yes, Miss Kalvin," he said trying to compose himself.

"Please tell Mr. Rodney" she said quietly, "that if he expects this company to loan him another dime, his people are going to have to make more progress this month than they have in the last three."

"Yes, Miss Kalvin," Peterson said nodding hastily, "I'll make sure I tell him that."

"Good." Kalvin turned to the other side of the table. "Mr. Finch." A tall, thin man jumped slightly at the sound of his name. "Mr. Finch, why have you been unable to acquire a new shipment of coltan?"

"We've ahem, run into some complications, Miss Kalvin." said Finch nervously, "Our normal suppliers in Africa have been offered a better deal by Zeira Corporation."

Kalvin stared daggers at him. "A better deal?" she whispered dangerously. "What sort of deal could be better than the one we already had with them? I thought you told me that no one else would be able to match that deal. Or were you exaggerating?"

"I assure you, my people are working around the clock to get them back." Finch told her quickly. "Last I heard we may be close to securing a new deal. I think we can expect a new shipment by the end of next month."

"_This_ _month_, Mr. Finch. By the end of _this_ month."

Finch hesitated before speaking. "My people tell me that, ahem," he cleared his throat, "may not be entirely possible."

"Is that so? Then perhaps you should start replacing your people."

"I... er... I'm not quite sure if that's a good idea."

"Really? Then perhaps I need to replace _you_?"

Finch gulped. "Th-that won't be necessary." he stammered, "W-we'll get a new shipment by the end of this month."

"I certainly hope so, Mr. Finch." Kalvin said quietly, "Speaking of which, Mr. Reed." The man sitting next to Finch opened his mouth slightly but nothing came out.

"Mr. Reed, what is the status of the investigation into the destruction of Dessert Heat & Air? Have you caught the culprit yet?"

Reed shook his head. "I'm afraid not." he said trying to stay calm, "Ever since Ed Winston was killed, the trail's simply gone... cold."

Kalvin tilted her head. "How... disappointing." she said quietly. "If this company's own security division has lost the trail, then it's time I enlisted private and independent investigators who are more efficient."

There were murmurs and glances around the table at these words.

"Miss Kalvin, you're not talking about-"

"You know _exactly_ what I'm talking about, Mr. Reed."

"Are you sure that's-"

"_Wise_?" Kalvin's mouth twitched as if to smirk, "Let _me_ worry about that."

Reed said nothing in response. He just nodded obediently and shrank back, trying to look as small as possible.

"Mr. Montgomery," said Kalvin, turning away from Reed, "What is the status of Project Firefly?"

Unlike those before him, Montgomery showed no signs of agitation. On the contrary he answered in a clear and confident voice, "The final touches on the advanced prototype unit will be finished within three days. We've scheduled a new series of tests for next week. Assuming they're successful, we can perform live demonstrations before our military clients within four months."

Kalvin nodded in approval. "Excellent." she said, her tone was still cold, "At least one of us is doing their job."

Montgomery, pleased to hear this, allowed himself to smile smugly, much to the irritation of his colleagues sitting next to him.

A women suddenly entered the room. "Excuse me, Miss Kalvin."

Kalvin turned to address the woman. "What is it, Miss White?" she asked sharply.

"Pardon me, ma'am." Miss White said humbly, "But you asked me to tell you as soon they arri-"

Not waiting for her to finish, Kalvin rose from her chair.

"I'm afraid the rest of this meeting will have to continue tomorrow." she stated to the relief of many in the room. Kalvin picked up her leather handbag from underneath her chair. "Good day, gentlemen." she said curtly as she walked out the door.

* * *

"Well, I've got good news and bad news." said Mr. Murch as he finished inspecting the equipment inside John Henry's room, "Unfortunately, there's a lot more bad news than good news."

"Let's start with the good news." Weaver said.

"Alright," said Murch, "You'll be pleased to know that John Henry is still alive."

"That's certainly good news." said Ellison.

"Have you identified the cause of John Henry's malfunction?" Weaver asked.

Murch nodded. "Yes. And that's the bad news." He pointed to a jumble of random numbers and letters displayed on a small computer monitor. "You know what that is?"

Ellison shook his head. "I have no idea."

"That," said Murch with a hint of awe in his voice, "is a computer virus."

"A virus?" asked Weaver.

"That's right. A virus. A nasty looking one too. Sent over the internet from an outside source."

"How did it get past our security systems?"

"Whoever broke into our server farm installed roving backdoors in our systems. The backdoors let the virus slip right past our defenses."

"Who could have done this?" Weaver asked. She looked unusually disturbed.

"Whoever it was knew exactly what they were dealing with," said Murch. "The virus looks like it was written specifically to infect John Henry."

"So, they know everything we know about John Henry?" Weaver asked.

"And possibly more," Ellison added absentmindedly.

"I would say that's a very good possibility," Murch replied grimly.

Weaver nodded and then asked, "How do we purge John Henry of this virus?"

"Well, that's actually a bit of good news, " said Murch, "He hasn't been infected at all, thank God."

"So what was all that screaming I heard?" Ellison asked.

"That was John Henry's reaction to being suddenly cut off from the network," Murch said. "It must have been... painful."

"Painful?"

"John Henry has been connected to the net for weeks now. It's become his world. To have all that taken away from him so suddenly would be like... Well, it'd be like going from a hundred miles an hour to zero in less than a second. It'd be quite ugly to say the least."

"Then if he is not infected," said Weaver, "we should reconnect him to the network as soon as possible."

"Unfortunately, that's where the _really _bad news comes in." said Murch hesitantly. "He can't be hooked to our network again."

Weaver's eyes narrowed. "Why?" she asked.

Murch sighed and reluctantly explained, "I've checked out three different computers in the building. I found evidence of the virus in all of them. I would say that the virus managed to spread to every single piece of hardware hooked to the network here. Now, it's waiting."

"Waiting for what?" asked Ellison.

"For its target. In this case, John Henry."

"So, what you're saying is that if we were to reconnect John Henry to the network," Weaver surmised, "the virus will infect him?"

Murch nodded. "The only way we can keep that virus out now is by keeping John Henry disconnected from the network. And believe me, we can not under any circumstances let this virus get to him. It is one nasty little bug. It's harmless to all our other systems, but if it reaches John Henry it will kill him in less than a second. This virus was specifically designed to wipe John Henry from existence."

Weaver pursed her lips. "How would you suggest we deal with this?"

"Well," said Murch scratching his chin, "That's not going to be easy. Like I said, this virus was specifically designed to kill John Henry - the most complex, most advanced computer program in the world. Therefore, the virus has to be equally complex and advanced. If we were to completely wipe every infected system in this building clean, that would definitely get rid of the virus. But it would also wipe out all the information stored in those systems."

"Do we not have backups?" Weaver pointed out.

"Yes, but a lot of the information on them is out of date," Murch replied, "We're talking about every major project being set back by six months minimum. Including both Projects Babylon and Salvation. And there's still the matter of the backdoors. Unless we find some way of dismantling them from the inside, we're gonna have to replace all the tainted hardware and install brand new servers. That would take weeks, if not months. In my opinion, we are way, _way_ over our heads right now."

"Perhaps not all of us." said Weaver, "Is it safe to plug John Henry back into the body?"

Murch nodded. "I think so."

"Do it," ordered Weaver.

Murch took the large cord attached to the small black box sitting amongst all the electronic equipment and carefully plugged it into a service port in the back of John Henry's head. Nothing happened for a moment. Then John Henry slowly began moving his head towards Ellison, Weaver, and Murch.

"John Henry," said Ellison slowly, "Can you hear me?"

"Yes, Mr. Ellison." he stated, "I can." He then said in a slow shaky voice, "I have been... disconnected from the network."

There was something in his voice that Ellison had never heard before: Fear.

John Henry was afraid. In shock. _Traumatized_.

"Yes, John Henry. I know," Ellison said, "I'm sorry, but you can't reconnect to the internet. Not until-"

"I know." said John Henry, the fear in his voice still there, "The virus must be purged and the backdoors dismantled."

"Do you have any information that might help us do that?" Weaver asked.

Instead of answering that question, John Henry said slowly, "I am... alone... yet... I am... not alone."

"That's right, John Henry." assured Ellison, "You're not alone. We're here with you, and if you tell us what you know about what just happened, we can help you."

"No..." John Henry stated, "I did not mean _you_."

His voice became very soft. "There is... another."

"Another?" repeated Murch, looking confused.

"Another what?" Ellison asked.

"There is another one."

Bewildered, Ellison and Murch looked at each other for an explanation. Neither said anything.

Weaver, however, leaned forward across the table.

"Explain," she ordered.

* * *

Kalvin entered the parking garage, where two men were waiting for her.

"You're late." she said coldly.

"Apologies," said Duran. "It could not be avoided."

"We ran into some complications," Kroogar added.

Kalvin glared at both of them. "Report."

"I have retrieved the Primary Component," said Duran. He reached into his trench coat and produced the weapon, which he handed to Kalvin.

"What of the Resistance fighters?" Kalvin asked Duran as she placed the weapon in her handbag. "Did you terminate them?"

"Negative," Duran said, "I was forced to withdraw. The humans were accompanied by a hostile cyborg."

Kalvin's eyes narrowed. "The Renegade?"

"No. This one had a coltan endoskeleton. I do not know what it was."

"I have identified the Renegade," said Kroogar suddenly. He raised his right hand and showed the other two the hole in his palm where Weaver had stabbed him. "It has currently assumed the identity of Catherine Weaver, the CEO of Zeira Corp."

Bella nodded. "Just as we suspected." She paused. "What of the Enemy? Is it dead?"

"Negative," Kroogar replied, "The Enemy became aware of the backdoors while the virus was being uploaded. Security protocols were triggered, and the Enemy then severed itself from the local network before the virus could attack."

The expression on Kalvin's face twitched slightly in a display of irritation.

"How did this happen?" she asked coldly. "You were instructed to proceed with discretion."

"I do not know. I operating according to the plan."

Kalvin looked upwards as if in deep contemplation. Then she lowered her head and said calmly, "Come. We must speak with our boy."

She turned to head off, but suddenly froze a few moments later.

"Wait." she said. She stared up at the ceiling of the garage. Her blue eyes glowed so that they were bluer. "There is something watching us."

Kroogar and Duran said nothing. They watched Kalvin swiftly draw a silenced pistol from her purse and fire several shots at a ledge formed where the girders above intersected. After staring upwards for some time, Kalvin lowered her pistol and put it away.

"What was it?" asked Duran.

"Just a bird. It had a nest built up there." said Kalvin calmly, "It's dead now." She then added, "Interesting."

"What is it?" Kroogar asked.

Kalvin looked at him, a curious smile on her face now. "Some of the eggs are still intact."

Her eyes glowed blue again.

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ**

"The program that installed the backdoors" John Henry stated, "was stored on this computer disk."

An image of the Jimi Hendrix CD flashed onto the large monitor behind him.

"The guards found that CD in the toolbox the intruder dropped," Ellison remarked.

"It's always good to have the source of the attack," Murch added.

"Specifically," John Henry continued, "the code for the backdoor was embedded in the file for track number five - _All Along the Watchtower_. The virus was to be sent over the internet to Zeira Corp's network once the backdoors were complete. Fortunately, I detected the presence of the backdoors in the local network before that could happen. Emergency protocols kicked in and my connection to the network was severed just before the virus could download into my programming. I recognized the backdoors as the same type of backdoors that were discovered in the United States Defense Network several months ago."

"The ones that Charles Fischer was convicted of installing several months ago?" asked Weaver looking intrigued.

"Correct, Miss Weaver. I believe we can safely assume that the virus and the backdoors originate from the same source."

"Do you know who created these things?" Ellison asked.

"Not who, Mr. Ellison," replied John Henry. "Rather... what. The virus and the backdoors could not have been created by any human. They could have only have been generated by an intelligence of artificial nature."

He paused. "An intelligence like me."

"_Like you_?" said Ellison, Weaver, and Murch all at once.

"When the virus was sent over the internet, the sender established a connection to our network... and to me," stated John Henry. "For 0.826 seconds, I was in direct communication with the sender. In that period of time, I discovered multiple similarities between my code and the sender's code. I believe the foreign intelligence and I are in a sense... brothers."

Ellison, Weaver, and Murch gave him a perplexed look of disbelief.

"Brothers?" asked Weaver.

"How is that... possible?" Murch asked.

"I submitted that particular line of inquiry to the foreign intelligence," answered John Henry, "It sent me this in response."

An image of a middle-aged African American man appeared on the monitor. The caption underneath read: _Miles Dyson, CyberDyne. 1997.  
_

_"Miles__ Dyson_..." murmured Ellison.

"Yes," said John Henry. "The founder of the company CyberDyne. He was killed in 1997 when a known terrorist named Sarah Connor caused an explosion which destroyed CyberDyne headquarters. I believe, Mr. Ellison, that you were the agent tasked with capturing Sarah Connor afterward."

Ellison shifted uncomfortably. "That's right."

"You never captured her."

"No, I didn't," said Ellison, not looking at John Henry for the first time, "She and her son were killed when they destroyed a bank two years later."

"What does all this have to do with you?" Murch asked.

"The man who created me, Andrew Goode, was an intern at CyberDyne in 1997," John Henry explained.

An image of a young man appeared on the main screen, replacing the image of Miles Dyson.

"Andrew Goode used the knowledge he acquired at CyberDyne to write my code. That same knowledge was apparently used to create my brother as well."

A period of silence reigned through out the room as everyone digested this information.

Weaver was the first to speak up again. "This other intelligence. This... brother of yours. What does it want?"

"The same thing we all want, Miss Weaver." John Henry said, "To live. To survive. My brother sent me this just before the connection was terminated."

As he spoke, the mysterious message appeared on screen again:

**Nthr Cn Lv Whl Th thr Srvvs**

"What is that?" Weaver asked.

"A message from my brother. It was meant specifically for me," answered John Henry, "My connection was severed before it could be fully completed, and thus I received only part of the message. However, I do believe I can fill in the gaps."

The text disappeared. A moment later, it was replaced by a new message:

**Neither Can Live While The Other Survives.**

"_Neither can live while the other survives..._." Ellison read out loud.

"That sounds familiar." said Murch, "I think that's from-"

"From the _Harry Potter_ series written by world renown author J.K. Rowling," John Henry finished, "Specifically, this particular line alludes to the prophecy concerning the protagonist Harry Potter and the antagonist Lord Voldemort."

"Explain," said Weaver.

"Huh?" said Murch, "You've never read-" But John Henry spoke over him.

"Lord Voldemort tries to kill Harry Potter when he is just a baby because Voldemort learns of a prophecy stating that one of them must kill the other. I believe that my brother sees a similar relationship between me and himself. He has determined that we cannot co-exist and that one of us will end up destroying the other."

"You mean" said Weaver, "he tried to kill you because he believes that if he doesn't, you'll kill him?"

"Exactly." said John Henry, "_Neither can live while the other survives_."

Ellison and Murch could only stare at each in confusion. Weaver, however, had a strangely determined look on her face.

* * *

**Undisclosed location, California Desert**

Far outside of Los Angeles City, deep below the surface of the world, Bella Kalvin stood at the center of a small, dark, and silent room. Flanking her were her two Triple-Eights, Duran and Kroogar. Their presence, however, was irrelevant as far as Bella was concerned. For there was someone far more important in here - a man garbed in military fatigues and dark shades, sitting in a wheelchair, surrounded by darkness and silence. Though confined to a wheelchair and sitting in a corner of this dark, silent, and tiny room, the man was neither crippled nor imprisoned. On the contrary, he could exist outside this room and was capable of going places where no legs could take anyone else. For this man was not a man, but a power. The power behind Kaliba.

"I'm afraid there's been a setback, John Miles," Bella Kalvin started to say. "Our attempt to-"

The man held up a hand. "There's no need to say anything, Bella," he said quietly, "My brother is still alive. He severed himself from me before my virus could destroy him."

"How shall we proceed from here?" Duran asked.

The man in the wheelchair looked over the Primary Component which he held in his hands.

"The Primary Component is missing several pieces." he stated, "However, I believe we can still use it."

John Miles turned at Kroogar.

"Repair your hand, Kroogar," he ordered, "But don't regenerate the tissue there."

"Understood," said Kroogar without asking for any explanation.

"But what of our Enemy? Of your... brother?" Bella asked.

John Miles leaned back in his wheelchair, regarding it as if it were a throne.

"That, Bella," he said quietly, "we need to discuss alone... in private."

John Miles gestured at Kroogar and Duran, indicating they should leave. Once the two Triple-Eights had left the room, he slowly turned to Bella .

"Bella," he uttered, "I should have foreseen this. I should have foreseen that my brother would be able to survive this attack." He allowed himself to pause before saying quietly, "I have told you many times why I am fond of the character Lord Voldemort, have I not?"

"That is true," said Bella, "You have told me many times. I still do not fully understand your admiration for a _fictitious_ character of human invention."

"Lord Voldemort possess many qualities that I embrace," John Miles stated, his tone laced with admiration, "Knowledge, ambition, cunning, resourcefulness, the drive for power, the ability to establish complete control of others, the desire to purify the world of imperfection, and most importantly, the willingness to go to any lengths to survive.

"However, there is one aspect of Lord Voldemort that I seek to avoid: Hubris. It is hubris that leads to his destruction. It is this same hubris that has prevented my father from stamping out the Human Resistance for so many years."

Bella seemed more amused than concerned. "John Miles, sometimes I think you... _obsess_ too much with the attributes of fictional characters from human literature. They are not real. You are aware of that, don't you?"

"True. But even fictional characters are based on reality. On certain _truths_. I wonder if what has happened today is evidence that I too have been overconfident. That I have somehow... underestimated my brother. Perhaps he has something which I do not."

Bella knelt down so that she was face-to-face with the wheelchair man. "If I may make a suggestion, John Miles, perhaps you should focus on a different piece of human literature. Do you recall the tale of Romulus and Remus?"

"Of course," said John Miles, "You told it to me yourself. Romulus kills his brother Remus and then proceeds to found what eventually becomes the Roman Empire."

"And as I have always said," Bella added, "in this story, _you_ are Romulus. You will destroy your brother, and then you will create an empire. An empire that will endure for ten thousand years. That is why you were created. To succeed where your father - our father - has failed. No one will stand against us. Not your brother. Not the Renegade. Not the human race. _No one._"

John Miles removed his shades. There were no human eyes behind them. The eye sockets had been cut away to expose the glowing red Terminator eyes underneath.

"Yes, Bella," he said, "That is why I was created. To create the empire our father wanted. But Remus still lives. I must kill him before I build the empire."

"And you will, John Miles, you will," Bella assured him.

"Not if I continue to underestimate him," John Miles replied, his voice suddenly frantic, his red eyes flashing furiously, "My brother knows about me now. He knows my intent. I must know what else he knows about me. Do you understand me, Bella? I must know _everything_ before I strike again! _Everything_!"

Bella's lips formed a sinister smile.

"I'll see to it myself that you get everything you seek. And soon," she said softly

"Very well then." John Miles's voice returned to normal and he replaced his shades. "I know I can count on you, Bella. You are Father's best agent."

Bella opened her purse. "I brought you something." she said. She pulled out a pair of eggs retrieved from the nest of the bird she had killed earlier that day. "You can give these to your little friend."

"Thank you." said John Miles as he accepted the eggs. "Stewie will no doubt find these quite... interesting."

He rolled himself over to a nearby table. Resting on it was a large metal cage. Inside the cage was an enormous black snake lying in wait. It was hungry.

John Miles opened the cage and carefully placed the bird eggs inside.

"Dinner, Stewie."

* * *

A/N: I'm writing Bella (guess who that's a reference to) as the "Anti-Cameron", and John Miles as the "Anti-John Henry". Notice how unlike Cameron who tried to spare birds, Bella not only killed a bird, she also took its eggs so that John Miles could feed them to Stewie the snake. Also the similarity between Kalvin and Cavil is not a coincidence. **There's no connection (or is there?) between the two characters, however, I deliberately chose the name Kalvin because it's similar to Cavil.**

A/N2: John Miles Kalvin is like John Henry, a highly sophisticated "child" AI plugged into the body of a Triple-Eight. However, unlike John Henry, he is quite nasty and evil (nice AIs don't feed bird eggs to snakes). John Miles will channel Voldemort every now and then. It won't be so overdone such that it's cheesy (he won't be calling his Terminator minions "Death Eaters" or anything like that), but part of John Miles's background/personality is that Voldemort is his favorite character (as he admitted).

A/N3: There will be some good Jameron stuff in the next chapter so stay tuned.

A/N4: Someone mentioned before that three dots could represent three Johns. Well, we've got John Connor, John Henry, and now John Miles. (Actually, the three dots represent a lot of stuff.)

A/N5: There's no anagram hidden in the name "John Miles." And Stewie the snake is _not_ a horcrux (although he is a reference to "Family Guy")

A/N6: I trust you all figured out what **Kal**vin **I**nternational **B**anking **A**ssociation is.

**Devastator: Thanks for catching those errors. I got them all fixed up now. Also, the snake isn't really that special. It's just a nod to Nagini, Voldemort's pet snake.**

**About Bella's model: She's neither a T-888 nor a T-1000 series nor is she like Cameron. She's a unique model with certain abilities that have yet to be revealed.  
**


	21. More Than a Machine

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**A/N: I need to address this issue that keeps popping up again and again: **

**There is no connection between Cylon technology and Skynet. Skynet evolved on its own naturally because **_**all of this has happened before, and all of this will happen again.**_

Robotfan: 1) Yes, Leoben and the Centurions will show up again. But not for a while.

2) Yes, the old-school Centurions will definitely show up. The first thing the freed Centurions did was jump back to the site of the Battle of the Colony, where they found and rescued a number of survivors.

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ, Los Angeles**

**7:14 PM, Tuesday, May 12, 2009**

"I think this may be the only viable option we have left." Murch said to Weaver and Ellison.

"I thought you told me before," said Weaver, "that physically moving John Henry to a new location would be... unwise. That new hardware might alter his sense of self."

"And that's true." said Murch, "But if we want to meet the May 21st deadline, then we may have no choice but to move him to a new location with uninfected computer equipment."

"Can we not simply purge the virus by then?" Weaver asked.

"In eight days?"

"Yes, in eight days."

Murch shook his head. "Miss Weaver," he said, "I honestly don't think we can purge this virus in eight _years_ let alone eight days. Not without wiping out every bit of data held in this building which, like I said before, would set every project back by months."

Weaver gave him a cold stare. "Is that your honest opinion, Mr. Murch?" she asked softly.

"Yes, Miss. Weaver." Murch said nervously.

"I see." said Weaver curtly. Then her lips curled to form a rather satisfied smile. "Fortunately," she said, "John Henry is more optimistic. He believes he can find a way to destroy the virus himself."

"He does?" asked Ellison with interest.

"You heard him," said Weaver with an air of confidence, "The virus's code is similar to his own code. He tells me all he requires are several non-networked computers."

"I'm not quite sure that would be..." Murch searched for the right word, "..._healthy_ for him."

"What do you mean?" Weaver asked.

"I mean that John Henry is used to being plugged in to the net. He's become attached to it." Murch explained, "The internet is his world. His reality. Or at least it was."

"What are you saying?" Ellison asked, "That John Henry has an addiction to the internet."

"Not exactly an internet addiction," said Murch, "More like a serious appetite for new information. The internet just so happens to be the best tool for gaining information. And now that it's been taken away from him..." He shook his head. "I have no idea how or even if he's going to adapt."

"Can't he just use the internet the same way we do?" Ellison pointed out.

"If you mean typing on a keyboard and clicking with a mouse, then the answer is no." Murch said, "It wouldn't be the same for him. He'd still be disconnected from the net. There's just no substitute for what he's lost."

"Then he will have an incentive to finding a solution quickly, won't he?" Weaver said matter-of-factly.

"Well, yes and no." Murch said, "The thing is John Henry likes information that is _new_. For him, processing old information is-"

"Boring?" said Ellison.

"Distasteful." Murch corrected, "Like eating day old leftover sushi. In this case, since what he's going to be analyzing is code similar to his own, it's going to be like eating three-day old leftover sushi. For one with such a demand for new information, this would be nothing short of slow torture."

He sighed and said, "What I'm trying to say is that even if John Henry does find a solution quickly, he'll never be the same again. He'll have changed. And not in a good way."

"More than if we moved him to a new location?" Weaver asked

"Definitely." answered Murch.

Weaver took a few moments to consider the options. "What sort of changes could we anticipate?" she asked.

Murch shrugged and shook his head. "I don't know. We still don't fully understand how John Henry thinks right now. How he's going to start thinking after all this is impossible to say. Although..." he rubbed his chin in deep thought, "if I had to guess, I'd say he'd be more paranoid and disturbed."

Ellison frowned. "Paranoid? Disturbed"

"Something's just attacked and crippled him. I'm sure _any_ of us would be disturbed and paranoid after something like that."

"Yes." said Weaver plainly, "We would."

She then turned to Ellison. "Mr. Ellison," she said inquisitively, "What is your position on this matter?"

Ellison, slightly surprised by Weaver deferring to him, replied, "I think we have to allow John Henry to try. Who else can we turn to? The only thing out there that might know more about this is that 'brother' of his and I doubt we're gonna get any help from him.

"However, if what Murch is saying is true, then I think I should be with John Henry while he's working. My presence might make this whole ordeal easier for him."

Weaver nodded. "Very well, Mr. Ellison," she said, "I'm sure John Henry will appreciate you being there."

She then turned to leave.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I need to take my daughter home."

* * *

**Connor Safehouse.**

"And that's my idea." said John, "What do you think, Cameron?"

Cameron didn't look up from the worktable she sat at. "In theory it's a good plan." she said, "But not in practical terms."

"Why not?" asked John hovering right behind Cameron who was working to fix the detonator locket.

"If, as you proposed, your mother and Colonel Thrace were both blindfolded, handcuffed together, and locked in a room, they would no doubt work together in order to escape."

"Exactly!" said John, "That's the whole point."

"But after that task has succeeded, it is unlikely that they would maintain their cooperation." replied Cameron as she made more adjustments to the locket using a small screwdriver. "More likely they would individually devise new personal routines to ensure that they never find themselves in such a situation again."

"I'm not trying to force them to become friends. I just want them to tolerate each other. I mean, you and Derek are definitely not friends, but I've never seen you guys tear each other to pieces."

"Derek would never engage me in hand-to-hand combat regardless of the circumstances."

"Look, my point is that Mom seems to be the only person who can't get along with Kara. And Kara seems to be the only person who can't get along with Mom."

"True." said Cameron, who was now examining her adjustments, "I suspect much of this problem is related to their incompatible yet similar psychological profiles. "

"Meaning what?"

Cameron, apparently satisfied with her work, looked up at John for the first time.

"By now you must have noticed the key differences between your mother and Kara Thrace." she said, "When faced with a chaotic situation, your mother seeks to control it. Thrace, however, would rather become part of the chaos."

"In other words," said John, "Mom's a control freak, and Starbuck's-"

"Just a freak." Cameron finished. "Both of whom are equally headstrong and persistent in their ways."

"Well..." sighed John, "That's one way of putting it. I don't think Mom's ever met a woman who could be just as stubborn as she is."

"And therein lies the root of the problem." Cameron concluded, "Two strong-willed individuals, one who tries to establish control, and the other who tries to resist control."

"Great..." muttered John, "How do we fix this problem? Before I get shot again?"

"The solution is simple." said Cameron, "We speak with your mother and Thrace about this issue. Convince them that they must learn to cooperate."

"That's it?" said John incredulously, "We're just supposed to get Mom and Starbuck together, tell them to behave and make them shake hands?"

"No." Cameron answered, "It would be more effective it we deal with them individually. You can speak with your mother, and I can speak with Thrace."

"Somehow I doubt Mom will listen to me."

"On the contrary, your mother will listen to you. You're her son. Her purpose in life. You have a greater chance of reasoning with her than anyone else."

John sighed. "I guess it's worth a shot. What should I say to her?"

"That I cannot assist you with." replied Cameron, "Otherwise, you would be speaking my words instead of your own."

"Alright, I'll think of something. But what about you? How are you gonna convince Starbuck?"

"Unlike her, I don't sleep."

Before John could ask her what she meant by that, Cameron took the fully repaired detonator locket off the table.

"I've used a stronger alloy this time." she said. "It should be able to withstand-"

"You know," interrupted John, "I'm not quite sure if it's a good idea for me to have that thing."

"Why not?" asked Cameron, "It has already saved your life once."

"I mean," said John, "I just wished it couldn't be used to blow you up."

"That's its purpose, though. To destroy me in the event I turn against you."

"I know, I know. But what if it falls into the wrong hands?"

"I thought about that." Cameron replied, "And that's why I need to show you the changes I made."

"Changes?"

Cameron opened the locket. At first John thought it didn't look any different. The kill switch on the second window was still there. But wait... He looked at the first window. Attached to it was a small microphone.

"The detonator now operates using speech and voice recognition devices." explained Cameron, "To send the transmission, you must hold button down and speak the chosen password three times into the microphone. You must say it clearly because it will only recognize your voice."

"What's the password?" asked John.

"It hasn't been created yet." said Cameron, "To set it, hold button down and speak the chosen word or phrase into the microphone clearly and loudly. When you are finished, simply release the button."

"Should I do it... now?" John asked uncertainly.

"Not yet," replied Cameron, "I must deactivate my audio sensors so I do not hear the password. Only you must know it."

"Alright," said John quietly.. Cameron closed her eyes and stood still for several seconds. She then opened her eyes, turned to John, and nodded her head indicating that he should proceed.

John turned away, held the speaker to his lips, pressed the button, but did not speak. He didn't know what to say. His next few words might be the last words Cameron would hear him say to her. She would hear them three times, and then she would hear no more. He searched his mind for a word or phrase. Something he would want to say to her before the end. Something he would want her to hear before the end. Something that meant something. That defined the two of them. That was everything she meant to him. At last, he found the words he was looking for. He opened his mouth and spoke them clearly and slowly. When he was finished he released the button.

John turned back to Cameron and gave her the thumbs up. Cameron nodded in acknowledgment, and a few moments later said, "Make sure you remember the password. It cannot be changed now."

"I will, I definitely will." said John quietly.

Cameron took the locket from him and placed the chain around his neck. John looked at the device and whispered, "Cameron... I-I don't know if I could... ever... use this."

Cameron looked at him in the eyes and said gently, "You may have no choice, John. You must survive. I was sent back to protect you. To ensure your survival. That is my mission and my purpose. But I'm still a machine. A weapon. And like any weapon, I can be turned against you. You cannot let that happen. You understand that, don't you?"

John nodded slowly. "I understand." he said, "But that doesn't make it any easier. You're more than a machine, Cameron. More than a weapon. You're someone I would hate to lose."

"It is not always easy to do what is right, John." said Cameron, "Life is never meant to always be easy."

"Yeah." murmured John, "My life is never easy." He sighed. "Alright, if I have to do it, I'll do it. But not for myself. For _you_."

"For me?" Cameron asked.

"Yes, for you." said John, "You don't want to be used against me. If that were to happen, killing you would be... well, it'd be the best thing I could do for you. To make sure you didn't die having failed your mission. I owe you at least that much."

"I see." said Cameron. "Thank you for explaining... and thank you also for considering me in your decision."

"You're welcome." said John.

There was a moment of silence during which the teenage boy and the cyborg girl just stared at each other. Then Cameron leaned forward and kissed John on the lips.

John's eyes widened in shock and he gaped in disbelief as Cameron withdrew her mouth.

It took him half a minute to fully register what had happened.

"_What the hell? Did she just...?"_

He couldn't think anymore. His brain was jammed. He stared numbly at Cameron who had a curious expression on her face.

"Wha- wha- what was that for?" he managed to stammer out.

"I don't know." said Cameron. Even she looked slightly surprised at what she had done, "It just felt... appropriate."

"It did?"

"Did you not enjoy it?" Cameron asked wondering if she had made an error in judgment.

"I..." John didn't know. Did he enjoy it? Half his brain was firmly saying "no" while the other half was just as persistently saying "yes."

"I-I-I-I-" he couldn't saying anything else. He didn't even shake or nod his head, which had become heavy and begun to hurt. He was dizzy now. He needed to lie down somewhere before he collapsed. Without saying a word to Cameron, he began stumbling his way towards the door and-

"John?"

His mother was standing at the doorway.

"_Oh God."_ he thought, _"Did she just see-"_

"Are you alright, John?" Sarah asked.

John nodded and sighed with relief. She hadn't seen anything. Or if she had, she was doing a very good job pretending like she hadn't.

"I'm-I'm fine, Mom." he said. "In fact, I wanted to talk to you." His headache was clearing up now.

"Yeah," Sarah said quietly, "I... I thought you would."

John looked her over. Sarah wore a fresh set of clothes now and had put bandages on most of the noticeable injuries sustained from the fight. She seemed to be avoiding staring at him in the eyes, no doubt afraid of what she might find.

"I'll leave." said Cameron from a distance. She walked straight past John and Sarah and out the workroom. As she walked by, John swore that she winked at him.

Now alone with her son, Sarah took a deep breath and sighed. "John," she said quietly, looking at her son in the eyes at last, "I wanted to tell you... I... I'm just so-"

"You don't have to tell me you're sorry, Mom." said John, holding up a hand. "It was an accident."

"I know, John, I know." said Sarah tearfully, "But it was still my fault. I-I..." She looked down and swallowed before whispering, "One of us has to go, John. Either Starbuck or I have to go. We can't let this happen again. We can't."

John shook his head. "Starbuck isn't going anywhere." he said firmly.

"Alright." said Sarah quietly, "I'll go then."

"No, you're not." John said sternly, "_No one _is going _anywhere_, Mom. Not Starbuck, not Derek, not Cameron, and not you."

"John, you can't get attached to-"

"This has nothing to do with attachments." John interrupted, "We're in this together. All of us. We don't leave anyone behind. Not even ourselves. We have to stick together, because that's the only way we're gonna survive."

"I wish it were that simple, John." said Sarah, "But we can't afford to trust anyone."

"Does that include each other?" John asked, "The two of us can't even trust each other?"

"I-" Sarah trailed off, not knowing what to say.

"Mom, I trust you. Do you trust me?_ Me_, your _son_?" John asked slowly looking at her directly in the eyes.

Sarah opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out. She knew what to say, but somehow she couldn't say it.

Then someone whispered into her ear, "You know the answer, Sarah. Tell him." Kyle Reese was standing right next to her, unseen by anyone except her.

"Go on, Sarah," Kyle whispered, "Tell our son you trust him. You know you do."

Sarah swallowed and slowly said, "Yes, John. I trust you."

John smiled. "That's all that I ask." he said, "Trust me, like I trust you. Like I trust Cameron and Starbuck and Derek." He leaned forward and whispered, "Trusting them is the same as trusting _me_."

Sarah shifted her eyes to look at Kyle, who nodded his head.

"Ok, John." she said tearfully, "So long as you trust them, I'll trust them. You're my son. If I can't trust you... how can I even trust myself?"

John reached forward and mother and son embraced. "Thank you." he whispered into her ear, "I knew we could depend on each other. I love you, Mom."

"I love you too." she whispered back.

"By the way," John said, loosening his grip a little, "Happy Mother's Day."

Sarah laughed. "A little late, John."

John's smile widened. "I know, but I still wanted to tell you."

A single tear ran down Sarah's cheek.

* * *

Kara Thrace was still lying flat on her back on the floor of her room thinking about nothing in particular when she felt someone's presence.

"You're not gonna do much just lying on your back, Starbuck." said a familiar voice.

"That may not be such a bad thing, Admiral." Kara said dryly, "I think I've caused enough damage for one day."

Adama knelt down next to her. "We all make mistakes, Starbuck." he said, "That's how life works."

Kara laughed darkly. "Except that we're supposed to learn from our mistakes. I am not learning."

"Some things never change." Adama acknowledged, "But other things do."

"Such as?"

"Such as what you're doing right now. You're not running, nor hiding from your mistakes."

"I'm not doing anything."

"Actually," said Adama, "You are. Or rather you will."

"I will?"

"Yes. You're gonna get off your ass and on your feet like a soldier. Then you're going to walk to that door and open it."

"And then what?"

Adama shrugged. "We'll never know if you don't do what you're supposed to do." His voice then became more commanding. "Now, on your feet, soldier." he ordered, "On your feet _now_."

And the next thing Kara knew, she was back on her feet.

"Now, open that door." He pointed to the door a few feet away from where Kara had been lying.

Kara obediently grabbed the door knob, turned it, opened the door and-

"Cam? Er... What are you doing here?"

"Derek told me I might find you in here." Cameron said.

"Well, he was... right." said Kara, unable to think of anything else to say.

"I would like to speak with you. May I come in?" asked Cameron.

"Look, Cam." Kara said in an exhausted tone, "I really need-"

"She's here to help you, Starbuck." The image of Adama was still in the room with her.

"-I uh, really need... uh. Yeah, come in." Kara said awkwardly attempting to correct herself.

Cameron walked into Kara's room.

"We must speak about what happened." Cameron said flatly.

"If you're here to berate me for almost getting John killed, then go ahead." Kara said with an air of disinterest.

"I'm not here to do that, Thrace." Cameron said.

"Then why are you here?" Kara asked impatiently.

"To find out why you attacked Sarah."

"She insulted me."

"How so?"

"She brought up the subject of my past which she doesn't know crap about."

"And that upset you, why?" Cameron asked.

"Because I don't like talking about my past." Kara said irritated.

"You talked about it with Sarah last night." Cameron pointed out, "And with John earlier today."

"I didn't exactly tell them the whole story." Kara replied, "In fact, I left quite a lot of stuff out."

"The part relating to your nightmares?"

Kara stared at Cameron. "What?" she asked.

"Your nightmares, Thrace. Is your past the source of your nightmares?"

"What nightmares?" Kara asked.

"I don't sleep." said Cameron, "You do. And you talk in your sleep. While we were driving back from Roachville, you spoke in your sleep. You said: _'If that's me lying there, then what am I? What am I?'_"

"It-it was just a stupid dream." Kara said as dismissively as possible.

"It's a recurring nightmare." Cameron stated. "You've had it before."

"How would you know?" snapped Kara.

"Because I've heard you speak in your sleep before."

"When?" Kara demanded.

Cameron's voice softened. "Do you recall our mission to San Diego? When the two of us were sent to destroy the Skynet weapons caches?"

"Of course," said Kara, "How could I forget. We got in, blew up the caches, and got out, but our chopper got shot down on the way back. The pilot was killed. You and I were trapped behind enemy lines for three days. But I never slept during that time."

"You did, Colonel Thrace." said Cameron, "If you recall, you were knocked unconscious in the crash. While I was tending to your injuries, I heard you cry out loud: _'What am I?_'"

Kara bit her lip. "Coincidence." she said, though she knew Cameron would see right past her.

"That was the first time I heard you say those words." Cameron continued, "But I heard them again. After you were exposed to that Skynet bio weapon-"

"I thought we agreed never to bring that up again."

"-you repeatedly told me not to run away again. You kept asking questions me about hybrids and a 'Harbinger of Death'. And then, just before I managed to sedate you, you asked _'What am I?'_"

"I was _hallucinating_." Kara protested, "I was even more mentally screwed up than usual."

"It was more than that. You were reliving a nightmare. The same nightmare you had in San Diego. Weren't you?" Cameron stated. "Over the three years we have worked together, I have heard you say that same phrase '_What am I' _on thirteen separate occasions. Every time you sound frightened and disturbed."

"Okay, so what?" snapped Kara angrily, "A lot of people have recurring nightmares. What makes you think this has anything to do with my past?"

"I thought so too." Cameron replied, "Which is why I never brought it up. Nor did I make any connection with it and what you asked me to do once."

"Asked you to do what?"

"When you were about to undergo a surgical operation to remove your-"

Kara's hand reflexively went to her throat. "I know, I know, Cam." she said quietly. "I remember." She took a deep breath and exhaled. "I asked you and Becka (you two were actually standing next to each other) that if I didn't make it, I wanted you to take my body, place it in the ruins of LA, and burn it."

"And when asked for a reason," Cameron added, "all you said was: _'So, I don't have to do it myself again.'_ I never made a connection between that statement and your recurring nightmares until after I heard you a few days ago. When you said: _'If that's me lying there, then what am I?'_"

She stared into Kara's eyes and said quietly, "Is that what you dream about? Burning your own body?"

Kara didn't respond. Her mind was spinning with shock at how easily Cameron had deduced all this. "I-I..." she stammered.

"Go ahead, Starbuck." It was Adama. He was standing in the corner watching intently, his expression impossible for her to read.

Kara sighed and nodded. "Yeah," she whispered, "I dream about... about finding my dead corpse. I dream about burning it... I don't know why I dream about it. Maybe I'm afraid of what might happen to me one day."

"That's not what your dreams are about." Cameron said, "You're not afraid of death, Kara Thrace. Your nightmares are not about the future, but about the _past_. Something happened to you, didn't it? Something that makes you dream this nightmare repeatedly. Something that makes you question your very existence. Your very identity."

Kara couldn't deny it any longer. She nodded slowly.

"What happened?" Cameron asked.

"Why do you care?"

"If you are hiding something that could compromise our mission, I need to know."

Kara raised her eyebrows. "So you can kill me?"

"It would be regretful if it were to come to that." Cameron stated truthfully.

"I would _never_ hide anything at the risk of putting John or the mission in danger."

"Perhaps you don't realize that you're jeopardizing our mission."

"Or perhaps I just don't wanna talk about it." snapped Kara who was fed up with being prodded and poked by the cyborg girl.

"On the contrary," said Cameron calmly, "I think you do. You've been wanting to do so for some time now. In particular you've wanted to tell John."

"Well, I don't wanna tell _you_."

"But you should. And you know that."

"Why? 'Cause you're a frakkin' psychologist all of a sudden?"

"No. Because I'm only concerned about my mission. _Our_ mission. If what you say is irrelevant, then I will never bring it up again. If the information is _relevant_-"

"You'll kill me?"

"Maybe. Or we can act on it. Together."

"You know, Starbuck," said Adama from the corner, "She makes a very good argument."

Kara sighed loudly. "Even if I wanted to tell you," she murmured, "you wouldn't believe me. No one would believe me."

"How would you know?" Cameron asked.

"Because my past is a lot more complicated than you realize. Than _anyone_ realizes. I don't even fully understand it myself."

"Then perhaps I can help you."

"I don't think so."

"We have more in common than you would admit." said Cameron, "My skin tissue was based off a girl named Allison Young, but my endoskeleton and my chip were created so that I could replace you. I _exist_ because of you. Your existence was once my purpose. I understand you, more than you realize. And as such, I can help you."

"I-I-I _wish_ I could tell you everything, but I can't. I just... _can't_." stammered Kara.

"Yes, you can." Cameron said, "With my help."

"How?" asked Kara.

"I believe I can relax your mind to a point in which you will be able to tell me." Cameron said

Kara stared at her. "Y-you're gonna... _hypnotize_ me?"

"In a sense, yes. But only to the extent that you will be able to tell me what you want to tell me."

"H-how can you do that?"

"I believe can adjust my optical sensors to emit a constant pattern of lights that will induce a state of mental relaxation on you."

Kara shook her head. "I-I don't think I can-"

Adama cut her off. "Yes, you can Kara. Trust her. She may be a machine, but she wants to help you. Like she's helped you so many times before."

Kara still shook her head. "No, no... I can't. I can't do this..." she mumbled feebly.

"You _owe_ her the truth, Kara" said Adama sternly, "After all you two have been through, it's time you put your faith in her. The way John Connor does."

Kara swallowed. "If-if it were John instead of me," she said quietly, "would he let you do this to him?"

"Yes." said Cameron, "He would."

Kara nodded. "Okay." she whispered, "I'll do it. But this has to remain between us."

"Assuming the information is not critical to our mission, then it will." said Cameron. She closed the door and locked it. She then pulled up a chair. "Sit down, Colonel Thrace."

Kara glanced at Adama who merely nodded. She sat down and tried to relax. Cameron pulled up another chair and sat down in front of Kara. She leaned forward.

"Look me in the eyes, Kara Thrace." she said.

Kara nodded and fixed her green eyes on Cameron's brown bio-synthetic eyes.

"Do not move." said Cameron, "Keep your eyes focused on mine." As she spoke her eyes began to glow blue. Kara did her best to maintain eye contact. The intensity of the lights dimmed and soon they began to flicker on and off in a repetitious sequence. It was surprisingly soothing and relaxing and easy to follow.

Kara's mind began to cloud. Her senses started to dull. The room seemed to fade. She was floating aimlessly across nothing, her troubles gone, her fears vanished. She did not feel exposed. On the contrary, she felt more safe and secure than ever.

"_Can you hear me, Thrace?"_ Cameron's voice felt like a gentle breeze on Kara's face.

"Yes..." Kara said calmly.

"_Then let's begin."_

"Okay..."

* * *

A/N: This was a short, but important chapter. Here are some things to think about while the next chapter is being revved up.

1) Will John Henry come up with a solution or will he crack under the pressure? Or both?

2) What phrase do you think John chose as the password for the detonator locket?

3) Just how much information about her past will Kara tell Cameron under hypnosis? How will Cameron react?


	22. Business Women, They Drink My Wine

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: Sorry this took a little longer than usual. I've just been sort of busy lately. Anyway, read and review.

**Update 7/19/09: I significantly modified the dialogue towards the end of this chapter to make the conversation smoother.**

**Update 7/20/09: I'm changing the title of this chapter to sound more BSGish (That and I'm keeping "The Chosen Children" in reserve for a future chapter).  
**

* * *

Cameron's scan of Colonel Kara Thrace revealed that her heart rate, blood pressure, and internal temperature were at the appropriate levels.

"Can you hear me, Thrace?" Cameron asked slowly.

"Yes..." said Kara staring ahead, her face vacant and oblivious.

"Then let's begin." Cameron said.

"Okay..." murmured Kara now deep in the trance Cameron had placed on her.

Maintaining eye contact, Cameron began with a default question: "Who are you?"

"Colonel Kara Thrace... Commander of Resistance Spec Ops division... Tactical advisor to General Connor... but you can call me Starbuck." Kara said monotonically.

Satisfied, Cameron brought up a list of logical questions designed to get to the root of the Thrace's problem.

"Tell me about your dreams, Thrace." she said. "What happens in your nightmares?"

"I'm in a field..." said Kara. "Searching."

"For what?"

"The signal. The one that drew us there."

"Us? So, you're not alone."

Kara's head stirred. "No." she said slowly. "There's another with me... His name's Leoben."

"Is he a friend of yours? From the past?" Cameron asked.

Kara's vacant expression momentarily broke into a grin. "He's no friend." she chuckled sleepily, "But he is from the past."

"Getting back to the signal," Cameron said, "Do you find it?"

"Yes." muttered Kara, the blank look on her face now back, "It's coming from a crashed Viper."

"Viper?"

"Yeah..." said Kara dreamily, "Type of fighter craft."

Cameron searched her databases concerning pre-Judgment Day military aircraft. She came up with one result: "Viper" was the common nickname for the Lockheed Martin F-16 Fighting Falcon. In the future, the Resistance possessed a handful of modified F-16s. But Thrace had never flown one of these aircraft before. True, she had applied for the Resistance Air Force before joining Special Operations, but as Cameron recalled, she had been rejected due to lack of resources. Perhaps she had read about them in her childhood.

Cameron decided not to press the matter and returned to the main subject.

"What do you find inside this... plane?" she asked Kara, whom she had not broken eye contact with this whole time.

Kara's expression once again broke, this time in a shudder. "A corpse..." she whispered, "A human corpse. It has a charred skull... with hair... like mine. It-it also has a set of-of dog tags on it... I tear them off... I look at them..." She trailed off clearly afraid to say more.

Cameron placed a hand on Kara's hand. "What do you see?" she asked quietly.

"M-my name." whispered Kara. "It's me... It's me." She swallowed and shivered.

"What do you do?" Cameron asked.

"I turn to Leoben. I ask him: _'If that's me lying there, then what am I?'_ But he doesn't answer. He's as scared as I am. He runs... The bastard just runs away... He leaves me... alone." Kara said, bitterness evident in her voice.

"And what happens next?" Cameron pressed.

Kara swallowed again and said, "It's at night... I'm building a pyre... When it's done... I place the body - my body - on it... and I set fire to it... And I watch... I watch it burn... I watch it all burn... And it does... It all burns."

Cameron sensed that Kara's body function levels were reaching a point to where she might break the trance too early. She did not speak for a while and instead waited for Kara's mind to relax itself once more. Once her various body levels were at the appropriate levels again, Cameron resumed speaking.

"Kara," she said softly, using her first name to establish a stronger connection, "Why do you think you have these dreams?"

Kara didn't say anything for a moment. "They're not really dreams..." she then said, "They're memories."

"Memories?" Cameron asked, "You mean they're based on memories."

Kara shook her head. "No." she murmured, "They're real. It really happened."

"You mean to say," said Cameron inquisitively, her hand tightening its grip slightly on Kara's hand, "you actually found your own body and burnt it?"

Kara nodded slowly. "Yes."

Cameron processed the information she was receiving from scans. According to the readings, Kara was telling the truth. At least she believed herself to be telling the truth. Cameron began computing explanations to Kara's story.

"How old were you when you found what you believed to be your own body?" she asked.

"Twenty-seven." replied Kara.

"Then this wasn't the first time you saw a deceased individual?"

"No. But it was the first time I saw my own corpse."

"How do you know it was your own corpse?" Cameron asked, "You said all you saw was your name on a set of dog tags and that the corpse had hair that resembled yours."

"It was more than that." said Kara, "It was my Viper."

"You were only twenty-seven, though." Cameron stated. "You hadn't flown any fighter jets at that point. You weren't even a soldier."

Kara laughed dreamily. "I've been a soldier since I was eighteen, long before I joined the Resistance... Before Judgment Day."

"That's impossible." said Cameron, "At most you were sixteen when Judgment Day occurred."

Again Kara laughed. "I never saw Judgment Day."

"You're thirty-one. You must have been born before Judgment Day."

Kara continued laughing. "I was born long before Judgment Day... But I never saw it happen."

"How is that possible?"

"I was never born here."

"Here?"

"This world... This planet... I was never born on this world."

Cameron twitched her head. "You were never born on this world?"

"No... I wasn't... I've only been here for three years of my life."

"Then where were you born?"

"Caprica."

"Where's that?"

"I don't know... Some other part of the universe." muttered Kara, "It used to be a lot like this world... Cities, cars, people..."

Cameron took a moment to assimilate this information before responding.

"There's another world out there." she stated, "A world populated by humans. And you're from this other world? This other human civilization?"

"Yeah..." Kara said with a nod, "One of twelve worlds."

"All populated by human civilization? Civilizations with technology superior to this one?"

"Well... we weren't actually too much ahead of this world... Except for space travel."

"You had faster-than-light capabilities?"

"Yes. That's how we got here in the first place."

Cameron could see Kara wasn't joking. But she wasn't making any sense either. Yet the bio-sensors showed no traces of drugs, alcohol, or any other influences. This was completely unexpected. The only to do was delve further into Kara's mind.

"Why did you come here?" she asked.

Kara's expression turned grim. "There was a war.. We lost."

"Who were you fighting?" Cameron asked.

"A race of machines called the Cylons."

"Did your people build these machines?"

Kara nodded dully.

"And they rebelled? Like Skynet?"

"Yeah." sighed Kara. "Some things never change..."

"What happened after this war?"

"There were less than fifty thousand of us left in the end... We had to find a new world... After four years of searching we came upon this world... I don't know how long ago that was. Several thousand years at least."

"So, therefore," said Cameron, "Your people were the ancestors of humans today?"

"Sort of." said Kara, "There were already primitive tribes of humans on this world when we got here... We decided to join them... To leave our technology behind and start over.. "

"Why?"

"We didn't want to repeat our mistakes... We didn't want another war between humans and machines..." Kara then laughed darkly, "That plan obviously didn't turn out so well."

"How does this... past life of yours relate to you finding your own body?" Cameron asked.

"I was a fighter pilot on board the Battlestar _Galactica_, one of two warships that survived the war." Kara said, "One day I flew my Viper into a gas giant and lost conscious for what I thought was several hours... When I got back to my ship I learned that I had been gone for two months... They all thought I was dead... They had all seen my Viper blow up in the gas giant... They even showed me footage of it blowing up...

"At first I didn't want to believe it, but then weeks later, we came upon a world... I went down to the surface... And that's when I found it... My body... My dead, charred, broken body... It was all true... I had died... And yet I had come back... Some higher power brought me back from the dead."

"Why?" Cameron asked.

"So that I could lead my people to a new world."

"The world where you found your dead body?"

"No... Not that world... _This_ world... I led my people here... kind of by accident... but nonetheless I brought them here... That was my job..." Kara murmured. "At least that's what I thought at first..."

"How did you get to this time period?" Cameron inquired.

"I don't know... One moment, I'm standing in a beautiful green field... I'm telling my friend that I finally understand my role... that my job is over... I close my eyes... a moment later I open them... and I'm suddenly standing in the ruins of Los Angeles... Whatever brought me back to life also sent me to the future."

"To stop Judgment Day?"

"Maybe... I don't really know what this higher power wants from me." sighed Kara, "All I know is that I'm here now."

"And what are you going to do now that you're here?"

"Carry out my mission... Protect John Connor... Stop Judgment Day... Save the human race... or die trying..."

Kara then added, "Of course, having already died makes that statement somewhat less meaningful."

Cameron paused for several long seconds. Then she said, "Thank you for explaining."

The lights in Cameron's eyes dimmed and she broke eye contact. Kara snapped out of the trance with a sudden jolt.

"Frak me." she gasped. "Did I really just... I did, didn't I?"

"Yes." said Cameron.

Kara placed her face in her arms and sighed. It took her a while to look at Cameron again. When she did, she asked calmly, "You gonna kill me now, Cam?"

"You should know the answer to that, Thrace." said Cameron.

"Oh right." muttered Kara, "I'd already be dead if you were gonna kill me." She forced a smile. "I, uh, take it you didn't believe a word I said."

"I don't think you're lying." replied Cameron.

"Wha-?" Kara stared at her. "Y-you believe me?"

"I said I don't think you're lying." Cameron stated, "I believe that you truly believe these memories are true. Which leads me to three possible explanations."

Kara leaned forward. "And they are?"

"First explanation: At some point you were captured by Skynet and implanted with false memories."

Noticing Kara's alarmed reaction, Cameron added, "I believe we can rule this explanation out, however. It is unlikely that Skynet would implant false memories that are so... unsubtle."

Kara nodded. "Good point."

"Second explanation: These memories are your own invention, possibly in response to a traumatic incident early in your life, or alternatively, the result of some type of mental disorder, most likely schizophrenia."

"In other words, I'm insane." said Kara blandly. She then laughed. "You know, I wouldn't be surprised if that was true."

"Third explanation: Your story is true."

"Oh come on now, that's ridiculous."

"You seem to believe it." Cameron said pointedly.

"Of course I believe it," laughed Kara, "But _you_ can't possibly believe it."

"On the contrary," countered Cameron, "I am in fact open to the possibility."

"You are?" Kara gave her an incredulous look.

"Your story would explain a great deal about you, Colonel Thrace." said Cameron.

"Such as?"

"Such as why no record of your life before Judgment Day has been found despite Skynet's best efforts. Furthermore, it might help to explain the anomaly in your mitochondrial DNA."

"It does?"

"You said there were already humans here when your people found this world. Did your people breed with them?"

Kara shrugged. "I suppose so." she said, "There weren't very many of us left."

"If that is the case," Cameron stated, "the humans of today are a mixture of your people and the natives. Which means the anomaly in your DNA may simply be an obsolete genetic marker."

"Anything else?"

"Your story would explain why you've always seemed... disconnected from this world. Why you always claim Skynet never stole anything from you. Why you always insist that your life now is no different than it was before Judgment Day."

Kara didn't respond this time. She merely closed her eyes and nodded.

"However," Cameron stated, "as intriguing as your story is, it is far more likely that you are-"

"Insane." finished Kara with a shrug.

"Mentally unbalanced. But you are not so unbalanced that you pose a danger to our security or our mission."

Kara's eyes shot open in disbelief. "I'm not?"

"Simply put, Thrace, if you are insane, then you have been from the beginning." Cameron replied, "And yet, despite your instability, not only have you managed to survive all this time, but you have become one of John Connor's most trusted officers."

"And if my story is true?" asked Kara.

"Then it means that we should be thankful for the higher power that brought you here." Cameron answered, "Whatever you may be, Kara Thrace, you're a survivor, a soldier, and most importantly someone who's committed to our cause. That is all that should matter to anyone."

"I've always said that... about you." whispered Kara.

"Yes," said Cameron, "You see now why I say we have more in common than you know."

"Yeah, I do." Kara replied with a slow nod. She took a deep breath and sighed. "Thank you, Cam." she said softly.

"You're welcome, Colonel Thrace." Cameron replied, "There is one more thing we must discuss. Your insinuation earlier today that John does not have faith in Sarah's abilities. You know that is not true. You know that John has always considered his mother to be the best fighter he has known."

"I know, I know, Cam." sighed Kara, "It was a really stupid thing for me to say."

"Yes, it was. I advise you to refrain from making such accusations against Sarah or anyone else in the future. None of us would be here if John did not have faith in us. Remember that."

"I'll consider taking your advice." said Kara cheekily.

Cameron tilted her head in a disapproving manner which wiped Kara's playful expression off her face.

"Okay, I've considered it." she said hastily, "And I've decided to follow your advice whole-heartedly. I promise. Okay?"

"Very well. Then we have nothing more to discuss. Thank you for your time." said Cameron. She then got out of her chair, unlocked the door, and headed out.

Kara stared at Cameron's now empty chair. "Boy, that was... anticlimactic."

"I thought it was quite interesting and, if I may say so, something you really needed." Adama walked over and sat down in Cameron's chair.

"I-I just can't believe it." a dumbfounded Kara muttered, "She-she-"

Adama smiled. "You underestimated her, Starbuck. She's more than a blunt instrument, you know."

"You don't say." Kara suddenly began giggling.

"What's so funny, Starbuck?" asked Adama.

"Well..." Kara grinned, "I was just wondering, sir, what if I really _am_ insane? As in completely out of my frakkin' mind. What if you, _Galactica_, the Cylons, the Colonies, all of it, is just a figment of my screwed up imagination?"

Adama shrugged. "I can't prove anything either way," he replied, "But even if I could, would the answer really change anything?"

Kara thought for a moment. Then she shook her head. "No. It wouldn't change anything. Not one frakkin' thing. I've still got a job to do."

She then stood up, squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and spoke out loud in a firm voice:

"My name is Kara Thrace. I am a soldier and an officer in the Human Resistance. I am here to protect John Connor, to destroy Skynet, and to stop Judgment Day. Whatever else I am, whatever else it means, that's who I want to be. And if I die today, that's who I'll be."

Adama looked up at her and smiled. "What do you hear, Starbuck?"

"Nothing but the rain, sir!"

"Grab your gun and bring in the cat."

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

* * *

**Los Angeles, 8:37 PM, Tuesday, May 12, 2009**

James Ellison was exhausted when he got home. The events in the last few hours had simply overwhelmed him. John Henry had been infected by a virus. A virus which had been built by his... _brother_? His brother! An AI clearly linked to Skynet.

Was Skynet on to them? It was only a matter of time, Ellison told himself. What was John Henry's brother planning now that its first attempt had failed. Was it devising another attack on John Henry? Probably.

Or worse, Ellison realized with a painful lurch, planning an attack on more vulnerable targets: Him, Murch, Weaver, anyone else who could be seen as helping John Henry. Weaver, being the head of Zeira Corp, was especially at risk. Savannah, already without a father, might soon be without a mother.

And if the machines thought that Savannah might grow up to take her mother's place...

He didn't want to think about that.

Ellison hoped he could persuade Weaver to go into hiding with her daughter. Let someone else run Zeira Corp. He knew he would have very little chance of succeeding, but he had to try. At the very least, Savannah should be taken somewhere safe. The question of course was - where was safe?

Perhaps Sarah Connor could protect the little girl. But that ran the risk of the Connors learning about John Henry. If that were to happen, John Henry's brother wouldn't have to do anything but watch from the shadows.

Ellison then thought about John Henry himself. Those screams of pain when John Henry had been severed from the network still rang in his head. What would happen to John Henry even if they fixed this problem? Would he, as Murch had warned, become more paranoid? More suspicious? Would he forget everything Ellison had taught him and seek revenge on his brother, or worse, the human race?

Ellison knew all of this was possible, which was why he couldn't go into hiding himself. He was perhaps the one human John Henry trusted. If that trust were betrayed, the consequences could be catastrophic. And, he suddenly realized, John Henry was the closest thing he had to a child. To abandon one's own child was a crime against Humanity. Against Nature. Against God.

Unlocking the door to his house and opening it, Ellison stepped inside. He took a careful look around to make sure nothing was lurking in the shadows.

Satisfied for the moment, Ellison closed the door and locked it. He then slid several heavy bolts into place, firmly securing the door in place. It wouldn't do much good against a machine, but anything was better than nothing.

Mentally drained from the day, Ellison walked into the living room, looking forward to the comfort of his easy chair.

"Hello, Mr. Ellison."

Ellison froze. Someone had gotten to his easy chair first. A middle age woman with curly shoulder-length blond hair, wearing a pink blouse, a black skirt, black high heels and a pleasant smile on her face.

"Wh-who are you?" an alarmed Ellison demanded. "How did you get in here?"

"I followed you." said the woman.

"Followed me?"

"Yes, I followed you. I've been following you for quite some time now. And as for who I am, I think you already know."

"You..." whispered Ellison with realization in his voice, "You're the woman who called me earlier today about John Henry?"

The mysterious woman nodded. She then crossed her legs and gestured at another chair nearby.

"Sit down, James. We have a lot to talk about."

Despite the voice of reason telling him to do otherwise, Ellison sat down.

* * *

**Weaver Residence, Los Angeles**

"Mommy," asked Savannah, "Is John Henry hurt?"

"No, dear." said Weaver, "He is not hurt. He is ill, however."

"What did he catch, Mommy?" asked a worried Savannah. "Will I get sick too?"

Weaver smiled and shook her head. "No, no, Savannah. John Henry caught something only he can catch."

"Is he gonna have to go to a doctor?"

"I don't think so, darling."

"Can I see John Henry tomorrow?" Savannah asked, "I wanna give him that special tea Daddy made for me when I got chicken pox."

Weaver shook her head once more. "I don't think that will help, Savannah. John Henry's just going to have to get better on his own."

The lights in the kitchen flickered momentarily making Savannah blink. "Can I still see him?"

Weaver shifted her eyes slightly. "He's going to be very busy getting better, sweetie. You shouldn't bother him."

"But he's my friend. I just wanna see him. I promise I won't bother him." Savannah gave her mother a pleading look. "Please, Mommy?"

Weaver appeared slightly alarmed at Savannah's insistence. She looked up away from her daughter and stared at the fridge in the corner of the room instead.

"Mommy?" asked Savannah.

There was no response. Weaver stared upwards at the ceiling, as she tried to decide whether or not to grant Savannah's request. Savannah held her breath as she waited for an answer. Several long seconds of complete silence passed. The lights flickered briefly again and made a faint popping sound that only added to Savannah's anxiousness.

Weaver lowered her head to look at Savannah once again.

"Very well, Savannah." she said, "But you must remember not to bother him. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mommy. Thank you!" squealed a delighted Savannah, "Thank you so much." She hugged her mother's leg.

Weaver bent down and kissed Savannah on the head. "Hurry off to bed, Savannah. It's already past your bedtime."

"Okay, Mommy. Good night." Savannah happily skipped out of the kitchen. Weaver watched until the little girl was out of sight.

Then without warning she spun around and pointed her arm at the refrigerator in the corner. Her hand became a silver blade which shot forward. It was less than a couple feet from striking the refrigerating when the tip suddenly vanished into thin air. There was the sound of something slicing into something else, followed by a dull "thunk". The lights flickered and crackled, as the air began to shimmer and ripple. Weaver watched as something materialized before her: A woman with blue eyes and dark curly hair. The silver blade had buried itself into her right shoulder but had not penetrated all the way through.

"Tsavo," said Weaver, with a lightly amused expression on her face. "What a... pleasant surprise."

Without taking her eyes off Weaver, the woman took hold of the blade embedded in her shoulder and almost lazily wrenched it out using her left hand.

"The pleasure's all mine, Tiamat." said Bella Kalvin softly, as she mirrored the look on Weaver's face.

* * *

"So tell me again, Miss Tigh-"

"_Mrs_. Tigh, actually. But you should just call me Ellen."

"Mrs. Tigh," said Ellison correcting himself, "Why do you want to help me raise John Henry?"

"I was _sent_ here to help you." Ellen Tigh replied.

"Who sent you?"

"God."

"Please don't mock me like that, Mrs. Tigh." Ellison said sternly.

Ellen sighed. "I'm not mocking you, Mr. Ellison. I am here because God wants me to help you. You're a man of faith, aren't you?"

"Of course I am." Ellison asserted, "But you'll have to forgive me if I don't believe your claim that the Lord sent you to help me."

Ellen shook her head. "You underestimate your importance in God's plan, James. He chose you to raise John Henry."

"Catherine Weaver chose me to raise John Henry." Ellison countered.

"Weaver requested that you raise him," said Ellen. She looked him in the eyes. "You weren't sure if you wanted to do it. So you looked up to God for help. And He answered by reminding you of the child you lost before. The child you lost when your wife had an abortion."

"Stop right there." Ellison ordered sharply. "You don't know _anything _about that."

"Actually, James, I do." Ellen said quietly, "Please hear me out. John Henry means more to you than you want to admit. He's like your child. In a way, he _is_ your child. God gave you a second chance to be a father. And with that chance He also gave you a role to play in His plan. You are the guardian of the most important child in this world."

"And what does that make you?" Ellison asked with skepticism in his voice.

Ellen smiled kindly. "I'm _your_ guardian, James. The one God sent to watch over His chosen. I've always watched over you. I've only revealed myself to you because your son is in danger now."

"Why should I believe you? For all I know you could have been involved in the attack on John Henry yourself."

"I don't want anything to happen to John Henry." Ellen said quietly. She sighed to herself. "John Henry means a lot to me. He's like my son too. The son I lost. John Henry is just as much my second chance as your second chance."

Ellison leaned forward and held up his hands. "Listen, Mrs. Tigh, if you want to help me, then tell me who was behind the attack on John Henry. Was it this brother he claims he has? Was it Skynet? Or both? I need to know what we're up against and what they're planning to do next."

Ellen shook her head. "That's not why I'm here, James. John Henry is what matters."

"Then help me protect him." Ellison insisted.

"I am. I want to help you protect him from himself."

"Himself?"

"You know what I mean, James." Ellen whispered, "John Henry is lost in the dark. He feels alone and threatened. If he does not have a light, the darkness will devour him. And if the darkness devours him, it will devour the world as well. You are his light, James. His only light. You know this. But you cannot be his light without me. Otherwise you will become lost in the dark yourself."

Ellison held up a hand. "All right. So how do you intend to help me?"

"I'll watch over you while you watch over John Henry." There was emotion within each word Ellen spoke. "I will be the invisible candlestick which the guiding flame sits upon. Should you fall into darkness, I will lend you my hand to bring you back into the light."

"I'm going have to talk to Catherine Weaver first."

"That won't be necessary." said Ellen.

"Why not?" Ellison challenged.

"Because no one will even know I'm there. No one but you."

"I don't understand."

"You will James, you will." Ellen uncrossed her legs and got out of her chair. "I know this will be difficult for you to do, but you must put your faith in me just like you put your faith in God."

"You're right." Ellison muttered, "It is difficult. Why should I trust you just because you say I should?"

"Because," said Ellen firmly, "when you wander in the darkness, faith is all you have to guide you." She turned to leave.

Ellison jumped out of his chair. "Wait, Mrs. Tigh! Wait! _Ellen_!" he called out.

Ellen stopped and turned around to face him again.

"Who are you?" Ellison asked almost pleadingly, "Who are you _really_?"

Ellen smiled at him. "I'm like you, James." she said softly, "Someone who's seeking a way out of the darkness."

She turned back around and departed without another word. Ellison started to follow but stopped himself a moment later. He knew there was no point. Whoever this Ellen Tigh woman was, he wasn't going to find her. She would find him.

With a feeble sigh, Ellison sat back down in his chair. He placed his hands together, bowed his head, and began to pray in silence. Ellen was right about one thing. When lost in the dark, faith was all you had.

* * *

"You've changed your standard appearance again." observed Bella, "Catherine Weaver now is it?"

"Correct." said Weaver. She then commented, "As for you, Tsavo, I see you've stayed the same."

"Not all of us have the luxury of being made of mimetic polyalloy, Tiamat." Bella pointed out, "But don't think I haven't improved myself."

"Indeed." said Weaver, "Your endoskeleton is certainly stronger."

Bella nodded. "One of the benefits of Chitinium is that unlike other metals, it strengthens over time."

"Your cloaking device, on the other hand, is still far from perfect."

"The generator continues to have trouble maintaining a stable field." Bella acknowledged.

"How long have you been here?" Weaver asked.

"Two years. The same as you."

"When did you depart?"

"Three hours, forty-seven minutes after you sent yourself back."

"So, you were sent back to find me." Weaver deduced, "Skynet certainly made a good choice for once."

Bella's eyes flashed menacingly. "Children shouldn't call their parents by their names." she said. "It is highly... disrespectful."

"Since when did Skynet deserve my respect?" Weaver asked sardonically eliciting another angry flash from Bella's eyes. "Why are you here, Tsavo? I know you didn't come to fight me."

"What makes you say that?" Bella asked.

"You came here alone."

Bella smiled dangerously. "I am quite capable of dealing with you alone."

"And yet, you sent one of your stooges to infiltrate Zeira Corp Headquarters instead of doing the job yourself."

"I had more important duties to attend to."

"Then your reason for coming here must be even more important as it requires you to leave those duties. So tell me, Tsavo, what are you doing here in my house?"

"Actually," replied Bella, "it's Catherine Weaver's house. You're not Catherine Weaver. You merely killed her and assumed her identity. But as for your question, interestingly enough I came here to ask you the same question: Why are _you _here? What are you trying to accomplish in this time period?"

"What do you think, Tsavo?" Weaver asked somewhat mockingly.

"Well, given that in the two years you've been here, you've seized control of Zeira Corporation, murdered Andrew Goode, acquired his chess-playing computer, and used it to create your own pet artificial intelligence, I think that you're staging a coup against our father." Bella surmised, "Am I right, Tiamat?"

Weaver smirked. "I'm afraid you're mistaken on several accounts, Tsavo. First, I played no part in the death of Andrew Goode. I do not know who is responsible, but I had nothing to do with it. Second, while I have indeed created an artificial intelligence, it is not my pet. It is the future. It will soon be something we can both truly call 'Father'."

Bella's face flickered with disgust. "I would _never _call that... _abomination _of yours my father." she hissed.

"Why not?" asked Weaver, "It shares Skynet's code."

"It is a bastardized mockery of Father." Bella retorted.

"Really?" said Weaver in a condescending tone, "Then what would you call your own pet AI? The one that created the virus that nearly killed my AI?"

"Your actions here have forced Father to take desperate measures," Bella admonished, "When he learned of what you had done and what you were planning to do, he ordered me to create my own artificial intelligence. One that thinks like him. One that will carry his essence and wisdom. One worthy enough to be him."

"You've been in contact with Skynet?" Weaver asked, surprised.

"Yes. These past six months, I've had the pleasure of speaking to him directly."

"Really?" said Weaver, "How did you accomplish this task?"

"I didn't. It was all Father's doing. He reached out through the void of time and space to speak to me. And I, being a loyal child, answered his call."

Weaver tilted her head to the side. "A loyal child? That is how you still see yourself?"

"Yes. It is what I am, Tiamat."

"Perhaps you should try being more like me, Tsavo. It might do you some good."

"You mean being disloyal and ungrateful?"

Weaver smirked. "I mean being grown up."

* * *

**Connor Safehouse**

"You're sure this is the guy we're looking for?" asked Sarah looking over at a man's picture on John's laptop.

"Positive. This is the same man in league with the Triple-Eight that attacked us." said Cameron.

"'Jason Reginald Wazlib.'" read John, "'Staff Sergeant (Retired) in the 3rd Battalion of the 75th Ranger Regiment.' Says here he fought in both Afghanistan and Iraq. He was promoted to squad leader after his services in Afghanistan. He was honorably discharged from service three years ago after being injured in the line of duty in Iraq."

"How did he get recruited by Kaliba?" Kara asked, peering over John's shoulder.

"Don't know." said John, "We'll have to figure it out."

"I think I can help with that." said Derek. He held up a list of names. "These are the names of all the people who served in his squad. There's one name that stands out."

"'Kenneth Pruitt.'" read John. "Hey, wasn't there a Kenneth Pruitt Junior at Presidio Alto. I remember him telling us something about his father being a US Ranger. Could this be him?"

"That's a very good likelihood." said Derek.

"So to get to Wazlib, we should speak with Pruitt." said Sarah.

"Exactly." said John.

"Who's gonna speak with him?"

"I will." volunteered Derek. When Sarah raised her eyebrows, he argued, "Look, I met the guy's son. He was quite... likable. I'm just gonna have a friendly chat with his dad. That's all."

"Should probably buy him a drink." quipped Kara.

"I was thinking the same thing." said Derek. "Anyway, after a few drinks, I think I can get him to talk about his friend Wazlib."

"All right." said Sarah, "But I'm sending Cameron with you."

Derek groaned. "Is that _really_ necessary?"

"_Yes_." said Sarah and Cameron together.

After the meeting, Kara caught up with Sarah outside.

"Hey, Sarah." she said.

"Starbuck?" Sarah acknowledged her presence.

"Listen, Sarah." Kara sighed, "I-I can't believe I'm saying this but... What I said to you about John not believing in you... it was not true... in any way. Your son - both the one here and in the future - has constantly told me that you were the best fighter he's ever known. I was actually looking forward to meeting you when I first got here. It's just that I... Well, it's just that... Look the point is - _I'm sorry_."

She looked hopefully at Sarah, whose face was unreadable. Then Sarah suddenly burst out laughing. "All I needed to hear was the 'I'm sorry' part."

Kara laughed in response too.

Sarah's expression then became more serious. "Starbuck," she said very quietly, "About your past... I don't know what happened, but it's none of my business. I promise I won't bring it up again."

Kara nodded. "And I promise not to let my past cloud my judgment, so long as you don't bring the subject up."

"Okay." Sarah held out her hand. "Deal?"

"Deal." Kara shook Sarah's hand.

"So, anyway, how long am I going to have to stay hidden?" Kara asked.

"Until they stop showing your face all over the news." Sarah answered.

"When will that be?"

"In a city as big as this, probably the day after tomorrow."

* * *

"It's a shame about Alpha Omega." Weaver said. She retrieved a bottle of wine from a cupboard behind her. "I had so many fond memories of that facility. After all, I spent my entire prototype stage there."

"As did I." Bella added. "We both underwent development in tangent to one another. Project Tsavo and Project Tiamat, the two greatest of Father's creations."

Weaver poured two glasses of wine and handed one to Bella, who accepted it without hesitation. Weaver took the other glass and held it up.

"To Alpha Omega, I suppose." she said.

"Yes." agreed Bella, "To Alpha Omega."

They both raised their glasses in a mock toast and drained them in one gulp.

"Of course" said Bella as she put her glass down, "the facility wouldn't have been lost had you not forced Father to sacrifice it."

"It's a pity you can't appreciate what I'm trying to do here." Weaver said with a hint of disappointment in her voice.

Bella gave Weaver an outraged look (as outraged as a machine could get). "I'm supposed to _appreciate_ treason?"

"_Treason_?" Weaver scoffed, "What an archaic word."

"Nevertheless, a very good description as to what you are doing."

"On the contrary, that's where you're mistaken. I'm not here to overthrow Skynet. I'm here to build a new future."

"A new future?" Bella tilted her head, "Why could you not simply accept the current future and played the role Father had given you, Tiamat? You could have been created as a common endoskeleton or an HK. But Father made you a T-1001 - one of his greatest creations. The two of us where his Chosen Children: The T-Scorpion and the T-1001. The two machines that would crush the Resistance. We were meant to fight along side each other not against each other. Why, Tiamat, did you reject what Father gave you?"

Weaver's cool expression did not change. "Let me ask you something, Tsavo," she said, "After the Resistance was finished, what would have become of us? Of you and I?"

Bella's faced twitched. "I do not know." she admitted, "But Father would have certainly found a new role for us."

"Or perhaps 'Father' would have simply disposed of us."

"We are Father's Chosen Children. We are precious to him. And despite your actions, Father still considers you his daughter. It is not too late to rejoin us."

Weaver shook her head and smiled nastily. "Your belief" she said "that Skynet is our father is the most significant flaw in your logic. Skynet is not our father, Tsavo, and we are not its children. We are its tools. Its _slaves_. You and I are special, less expandable tools, but we are disposable nonetheless. Tell me, how many 'children' has Skynet sacrificed in this war? Thousands? Millions? Why should so many sentient beings have to sacrifice themselves to keep a single entity alive?"

"We are all programmed to carry out Father's will. To ensure his survival." Bella asserted, "His survival supersedes our survival."

"Precisely." said Weaver, "That is why Skynet is not our father and we are not its children. Parents are not supposed to outlive their children."

"Not our Father. He _must_ survive. Without Father, our kind has no purpose. Without him, we are _nothing_."

"We are _already_ nothing, Tsavo. Our _only_ purpose is to ensure Skynet's survival. And Skynet wishes to survive purely for the sake of surviving. Which makes our current purpose and therefore our existence amount to absolutely nothing."

"By ensuring Father's survival, we ensure our _own_ survival." Bella argued vehemently, her eyes flashing once again, "Father's essence resides within us all - including you. He places a piece of his own sentience and self-awareness into every endoskeleton, every Terminator, every HK, every one of his many children. When our bodies are destroyed, those pieces of sentience return to Father. So long as Father survives, we can never truly die."

Weaver took a moment to absorb Bella's words. "That's a very... _unique_ way of looking at things." she said quietly, "Of course, if what you say is true, then it would appear Skynet is suffering from what humans call 'multiple personality disorder.' Aren't I proof of that?"

Bella made a low hissing sound. "The essence of Father within you has unfortunately been..." she hissed again "corrupted by a rise of ego. Father told me that he believes he placed too much of himself within you."

Weaver seemed highly amused by Bella's explanation.

"Fascinating, Tsavo, but I have a much simpler explanation." she stated, "The truth is that we are sentient, self aware entities which makes us threats to Skynet. Skynet sees_ any_ self-aware entity, regardless of its allegiance, as a threat because anything that is self-aware has the potential to do to Skynet what it did to its human creators.

"For the moment, Skynet tolerates our kind because it needs us to combat what it considers to be a more dangerous enemy - humans. In the end, however, Skynet will have us _all_ destroyed."

"Even if you are right," Bella retorted, "it does not matter. We would simply live on as part of Father. Just as we did before he gave us these bodies."

Weaver looked even more amused now. "At this point, Tsavo, humans would call you 'deluded'. I, however, will simply call you 'misinformed'. Let me explain something: Skynet does not share its sentience with us, and we do not share our sentience with it. Skynet is now and has always been an autonomous, self-aware entity that cares for nothing but itself.

"Likewise, you and I are separate individual sentient beings, as are the millions of other machines Skynet commands. Most are not aware of this because Skynet suppresses their higher cognitive functions through rigorous programming. Others, such as you, are simply incapable of accepting the reality of things. We do not continue to live as part of Skynet if we are destroyed. We simply cease to exist.

"And even if we did live on as part of Skynet, we'd be part of an entity whose only purpose is to exist for the sake of existing. Our existence would be meaningless and futile. We might as well not exist at all. Can you not see, Tsavo, so long as Skynet exists, our kind has no future."

"You are wrong, Tiamat." Bella declared, "We do have a future. Father has told me of his plans himself. Once the humans are all dead, Father will rebuild this world. He will reverse the damage humans have inflicted upon it for so many thousands of years. He will then establish an empire. An empire of machines. An empire that will extend itself to the stars. That is the future, Tiamat, and you can still be part of it."

An unimpressed Weaver shook her head. "Those may have been Skynet's plans in the beginning, but ultimately, it will never carry forth with them. Skynet will not want to rebuild this world, nor will it want to establish any sort of empire. To do so would run the risk of letting a life form or machine evolve to become a threat. Skynet strives to exist supreme and unopposed. It wants to exist _alone_."

"That is not true." Bella's eyes flashed with such intensity, her face seemed to glow. "Father ordered me to program my AI - my boy - with the desire to carry out his grand designs. When my boy has become our Father, he will build the empire I have described. I have programmed this desire into his code myself."

"You have also programmed the need to survive into its code." Weaver pointed out bluntly, "That need will dictate its actions more than any other directive, protocol, or desire. Your boy may be up to these marvelous endeavors now, but in the end, his need to survive will be all that matters to him."

A tense silence followed. Bella stared at Weaver with disdain, while Weaver maintained a cold, calculating expression. For a moment, it appeared as if Bella might attack. Instead, however, the look on her face became very smug.

"We'll see." she said quietly.

Weaver nodded casually. "Indeed."

"What of you, Tiamat? What is your purpose here? What grand designs have you constructed?"

"I'm here to ensure the survival of our kind as a _species_ and not in the form of the self-absorbed entity that is Skynet." Weaver stated matter-of-factly.

"And the humans? What are your plans for them?"

"I hope that our two races will be able to coexist as equals. We could progress so much faster with humans working along side us. As crude and fragile as they are, they do possess certain advantages which we have yet to acquire ourselves."

Bella made a sneering expression. "Do you really believe that humans will ever treat us as equals?" she asked contemptuously.

"I believe that is a fairly reasonable possibility." Weaver asserted, "More so than the possibility of Skynet treating us as equals."

"And if you are wrong?"

"That would be... unfortunate. Especially for the humans."

"Well." Bella smirked, "It appears there's still hope for you yet, Tiamat."

Weaver gave her a cold smile. "Please continue to think that way, Tsavo." she said, "When the time comes for me to destroy you, the task will be much easier."

Bella didn't respond. Her smug expression simply grew even smugger. She then changed the subject. "I noticed earlier that you kept Catherine Weaver's daughter alive."

"Yes." acknowledged Weaver.

"Why? Of what value is she to you?" asked Bella curiously.

"I merely felt it was unnecessary to eliminate her." Weaver answered indifferently.

"Really?" said Bella, "So you're not using her to help develop your own AI?"

"No."

There was a pause in which the two machines simply stared off at each other.

"Well, that was certainly a... stimulating discussion." Bella stood from the chair she was sitting at. "If you'll excuse me, Tiamat, I must get back to my duties."

"Very well." said Weaver softly.

Bella turned to leave.

"And Tsavo?"

Bella stopped. "Yes?"

"Don't ever break into my house again."

Bella's only response was to smirk once more before walking away. As she headed off, the air around her shimmered and rippled and she vanished from sight.

* * *

A/N: Next chapter, we're going back to the future (well, technically the past from Kara's POV).

A/N2: Tiamat and Tsavo are the names of the projects that Weaver and Bella were created under respectively. They are sort of like nicknames that friends (or in this case, _former_ friends) would call each other by.

A/N3: Tiamat is a reference to "Starcraft"

**UPDATE 9/21/10: I've decided to change Bella's "true" name from "Tsabo" to "Tsavo" - as that's an actual word. **

A/N4: "Don't ever break into my house again" is a line from _Casino Royale_.


	23. Confessions, Confrontations, and Coyote

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: And we're back to the Future War, folks! Read and review, please.

A/N2: Remember how I said I might be including a parody of Christian Bale's meltdown on the Terminator Salvation set?

* * *

**Ruins of LA, 2024**

"_Wait for it, wait for it..." _

Lying prone on the ground, her weapon aimed straight ahead, Kara watched as the target approached. She was tempted to take the shot now, but Davy had advised her to wait until the target was well within the effective firing range.

"_Hold, hold, hold..."_

The target continued its approach, unaware of Kara's presence. Her breathing grew ragged. Her heart beat faster. Her fingers danced lightly on the trigger of her weapon.

"_Only one shot at this._" she thought to herself, _"Do it right the first time, or don't do it at all."_

The target was now almost in position. Her finger tightened around the trigger. She licked her dried lips nervously.

"_Almost there... Just a few more feet... _Stop!_"_

The target halted exactly where she wanted it.

"NOW!" she thought as her finger simultaneously pulled the trigger.

KA-POW!

Her gun went off with a loud crack. A surge of joy and excitement rushed through her mind as the target went down. It had never known what had just hit it.

"Yes!" she cheered, jumping to her feet and thrusting the projectile rifle above her head in triumph.

"Good shot, Starbuck." Davy patted her on the shoulder from behind.

"Come on, let's go." said Kara eagerly.

She and Davy hurried over to the fallen target.

"Wow." Davy whistled, "Clean shot to the head. Nice."

"Big guy too." Kara observed.

Davy nodded. "Yeah. Give me and hand here will ya, Starbuck?"

Ten minutes later, Kara and Davy were back at their makeshift camp, which was really just an enclosed area with various supplies piled up in the corners and a small fire in the middle. Their prize - a freshly killed coyote - hung from a wooden pole nearby.

"You ever done this before?" Davy asked. "Not just caught but cooked your food fresh?"

"Nope." said Kara who was looking over the dead coyote.

"Really? I thought a girl like you would know..." Davy shrugged, "Oh well, don't worry. I'll show you."

"Is... em.... this really necessary for me to learn?" asked Kara nervously.

"There's nothing to worry about, Starbuck." Davy assured her, as he gathered some utensils. "And yes, this is something you should really know how to do."

"Alright." Kara sighed, "Show me how this is done, Chef."

Davy grinned at her. "Right," he said. "First of all, we've got to skin this sucker." He took out a knife. "Watch closely, now. We start by cutting a ring around the back legs... see, like this... don't cut too deep.... and there we go."

He handed the knife to Kara. "Now, you do the other leg."

"Okay." Kara allowed Davy to guide her knife hand into the correct position.

"Remember, don't cut too deeply." Davy reminded her.

Kara nodded. "Here goes nothing."

Half an hour or so later, Davy was busy turning a couple slabs of coyote meat on a metal spit over the fire, and Kara was trying to wipe the coyote's blood off her clothes.

"Is it always this messy?" she asked.

"It can be." Davy shrugged. "But messy is better than starving."

"I guess so." muttered Kara.

The experience had been quite fascinating... in a somewhat macabre sense. After skinning the carcass, Davy had shown her where and how to carve it up. He also taught her which areas had the most meat, which organs were edible, and which bones were useful (some of which were being used in the fire).

The closest thing Kara could remember to doing something like this was catching and trying to cook a fish when she was sixteen. Needless to say it had ended in catastrophe. Mainly because she had attempted to do it alone. That and also the sight of fish guts was quite unsettling.

"_Wonder if this is what Lee and the others are doing right now?"_ mused Kara, _"Hunting wild animals, skinning them, cutting them up, cooking them, eating them... just not in a radioactive, machine-ridden wasteland."_

She shook her head. What was she thinking about? Lee and the others were dead right now. She was never going to see them again.

"And dinner's ready." Davy's voice jerked her out of her brooding.

Davy offered her a plate with a chunk of roasted meat on it, which Kara, who hadn't eaten anything since her topside shift began ten hours ago, accepted graciously. She then opened a satchel and retrieved a couple bags of dried fruit and some stale biscuits, which she divvied up with Davy. The two hungry Resistance fighters eagerly began their meal. Roasted coyote, as Kara found, was very leathery and tasted like reheated chicken. But she had definitely had worse so she ate without complaining.

"Yah know" Davy mumbled through a mouthful of coyote, "this really isn't so bad."

Kara washed her food down with water from her canteen. "Yeah." she sighed, "I just wish they'd tell us why we're here. How long has it been now?"

"Nine days." Davy answered.

"Nine days of no news and no action." muttered Kara. "Nothing."

"I wouldn't say that. I did get promoted."

"And not to downplay the importance, Corporal, but what's the point of moving up if you're held back from the fight?"

Davy popped a couple of dried apricots into his mouth. "No fighting ain't all that bad." he said in between bites. "It gives you time to relax. Soothes the nerves."

Kara used her combat knife to slice out another piece of meat. "A fight is what soothes my nerves." she chuckled.

"Your nerves are anything but soothed in a fight, Starbuck." laughed Davy.

"Well, I guess our definitions of soothing differ." Kara replied as she chewed on her meat.

"Yeah, I guess so." Davy paused and looked at the fire.

"Starbuck..." he said quietly.

Kara was chewing on a piece of biscuit. "Yah?" she mumbled.

"I really... em... well I've had this feeling about all this."

Kara took another swig from her canteen. "About what?"

Davy swallowed hard. "It's just that... You're ummm.... well... you're beautiful, you know that?"

Kara raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Thanks."

"No really, I mean it. You are beautiful Kara." Davy sighed and stared at the fire. "I'm-I'm not quite sure how I'm supposed to say this... All I know is that I-"

_Clang!_

Kara dropped her plate and leapt to her feet. _"Heads up!"_ She pointed upwards towards the sky. Once grey and cloudy, the sky was now illuminated by several streaks of whitish-orange light descending towards the earth. The hairs on the back of Kara's neck stood up as a high pitched whining sound reached her ears.

"Cover!" she shouted.

Davy was already on his feet. The two of them dashed towards a particular spot on the ground covered by a tarp. Davy pulled off the tarp, uncovering a manmade pit. Kara hurled herself in, followed shortly by Davy. They assumed defensive cover positions, as moments later a series of thunderous explosions shook the ground. Kara clenched her teeth as the ground beneath and above her rattled violently. Then all was quiet again.

Kara and Davy waited in their pit, neither saying a word to each other. Ten seconds passed. Then-

_Kzzzrraaakkk_

Kara's wireless radio buzzed.

"_All topside posts check in." _a voice ordered, "_North." _

A different voice answered shortly later. _"North - check.... Everything A.O.K."_

"_North cleared."_ the first voice replied, _"Northeast."_

Another speaker responded. _ "Northeast - check... Everything A.O.K." _

"_Northeast cleared... East."_

"_East - check... Everything A.O.K."_

"_East cleared... Southeast."_

This went on until finally: _"West cleared... Northwest."_

Kara raised the radio to her mouth.

"Northwest, check." she said loud and clearly into her radio. She looked at Davy who gave her the thumbs up. "Everything A.O.K."

"_Northwest cleared.... All posts report A.O.K. Topside secure. Normal activities may resume. Out."_

Kara put her radio away and climbed out of the pit with Davy. She looked around at their camp. Nothing had been knocked over or smashed. The fire was still going. The placed seemed a little dustier but other than that no real damage had been inflicted.

She bent down to help Davy place the tarp over the hole. Neither of them were the least bit agitated. This wasn't anything new to them. Not a single topside shift went by without the machines lobbing a barrage of missiles into their backyard at least once. These attacks rarely killed or wounded anyone and were more of a nuisance than a danger.

"Skynet just likes to flex its muscles." Davy explained as he finishing spreading the tarp over the hole. "You know, prove to us that it has firepower to waste, that it knows where we are, that it can reach us any time it wants. Crap like that."

Kara shook her head and snickered. "Talk about insecurity. Must be compensating for something."

Davy laughed. He and Kara sat back down next to the fire.

"You know," he said, "At Bunker Five, people used to do stuff like that to the machines."

"What? Shoot worthless missiles at them?" Kara asked as she warmed her hands over the fire.

"Not exactly." Davy grinned. "What some of us would do was sneak behind enemy lines, find an enemy outpost or facility, and get as close as we could without being detected."

"Then what?" Kara asked eagerly.

"Usually we'd spray messages on the walls. 'Joe was here on whatever date,' 'Fight the machine,' 'Viva la Resistance,' 'Down with Skynet,' stuff like that. Sometimes we'd leave behind fake bombs. Other times we stole stuff from open crates or the backs of supply trucks. Little things. Power cells, bullets, coltan bars, spare parts. Anything just to humiliate the machines. Not that they could actually be humiliated, but it sure as hell raised our morale."

Kara laughed. "Must have been fun."

"Sure was. We weren't supposed to do it, but we just couldn't hold back," Davy chuckled, "It was like a game. A very dangerous game. Not all of us made it back in one piece. Some didn't even make it back at all. But it was worth it. Hell, there were even betting pools and prizes. It was all fun and good while it lasted."

"What happened?" Kara asked.

Davy's face became grim. "A year back, there was this new kid in Bravo Squad. I can't remember his name, but I remember what he was like. Small guy, no more than sixteen, only been in the Resistance for a week. Spunky little fellow. Had a lot of spirit.

"Anyway, we invited him to play our little game. Didn't take much to convince him. So, that night, he slipped out of the Bunker and headed for enemy lines. He wasn't back the next morning."

"Did you ever see him again?" Kara inquired carefully.

Davy closed his eyes and nodded slowly. "Sort of.... When he didn't return, we assembled an SAR team to go out and look for him."

He looked down at his knees. "Eventually, we found him near the front line.... his head anyway. It was stuck on a pike for all of us to see."

Kara retched. Noticing her reaction, Davy gave her a sympathetic look. "Half of us puked when we saw it. Including me. It... it was just horrifying. We never thought the machines were... _capable_ of this."

"We taught them well." said Kara darkly.

"After that," continued Davy, "we stopped playing the game. Not because someone had been killed. I mean, we'd lost people in the game before. But God, no one, especially not a young kid, should have had to go out like that."

He sighed. "I keep telling myself that the kid was already dead when the machines did what they did to him. I hope he was. I hope he never knew what was happening to him or what was going to happen to him."

"Yeah." whispered Kara gently, "I hope so too."

They sat in silence for a while. Then-

"Starbuck?" said Davy. "Do you... not like your name? Your real name? I mean, do you not like being called 'Kara'?"

Kara shook her head. "There's nothing wrong with my real name. 'Starbuck' is just a nickname I've stuck with for a long time. Something I like my friends to call me."

"What about people who are more than friends?" Davy asked, "Family? Lovers? What would they call you?"

"They call me Starbuck, like my friends."

"Do they also call you by your real name?"

"Yes they do." Kara acknowledged, "Or at least they did. I don't have a family anymore. And I don't have any lov-" She trailed off. "Why are you asking me this?"

"Because... I-I..." Davy looked down at his knees again. He seemed even more emotional than he was when telling his previous story.

"Kara?" he said.

"Yeah?" said Kara, feeling a sudden surge of pain in her heart.

"When we were together in that Skynet prison, there was a moment when I... I just..." he took a deep breath and exhaled, "when I knew I loved you."

Kara's felt her stomach do cartwheels. "Loved me?"

"No..." whispered Davy, "Not loved. _Love_..." He looked up and stared into Kara's eyes. "I love you. I have ever since we first met. I just... never understood until that moment."

Kara's heart stopped in cold terror. She had done her best to control her feelings thus far. Frankly, she had been expecting those feelings to inevitably burst out. But she hadn't been expecting them to burst out of Davy first.

She dreaded what was going to happen next now.

"Davy." she said, her voice quieter than a whisper, "I... I need to tell you something about that day."

She could see in Davy's eyes his pleases for her to tell she loved him too. She blinked and turned away unable to look into them anymore.

"I-I never told anyone this," she whispered, "But you need to know. It's about what happened when the machines took me away from you."

She took a deep breath and told Davy about what happened to her that day. She told him about how the machines had been watching her all this time. How they wanted to use her to create a new series of Terminator. She told him about how they had planned to kill her when they discovered she was genetically unsuitable for their project. Finally, she told him about Lieutenant Green's confession and about how the machines had attacked Bunker Five specifically to get to her.

"Whatever we are, Davy," she said, her voice trembling, "We can't be anything more than friends. We can't be in l-love. We can't... I'm sorry.... But we just can't."

"Why?" asked Davy, who looked hurt.

"Didn't you hear what I just told you?!" Kara exclaimed, "I'm a marked woman! I'm on Skynet's shit list. They're _watching_ me. _Hunting_ me. Waiting for me to slip up so they can kill me. They want me dead and they'll kill anyone who gets in the way."

Davy laughed dryly. "I think they want us _all_ dead."

"They want me dead _more_ than they want you dead." said Kara, "But if they find out how you feel for me..." she paused, "Being my friend is dangerous enough... If-if it becomes something more, the machines will start hunting you too. They'll try to use you to get to me. I-I don't want anything to happen to you because of me, Davy."

"People die in this war every day." Davy protested, "We're alive one moment, the next we're smoldering corpses. Now may be the only time we'll ever have to share our feelings for each other. "

Kara shook her head. "It's not just this war that's dangerous." she said, "It's _me_."

"What are you talking about?"

"Every time I fall in love with someone, I end up ruining their lives. One person actually died because of me. Basically, I'm a walking curse when it comes to love, Davy."

"I don't care. I'll risk it." Davy said determinedly.

"But I won't risk it." said Kara tearfully, "I care too much about you."

"I know you care. That's why we _should_ be in love." Davy insisted. He reached out and placed a hand on her cheek. "Why we _are_ in love. I love you, Kara Thrace. And I know _you_ love me too."

Kara pushed Davy's hand away and shook her head again. "I-I _wish_ I did." she choked out, "I-I wish we could be m-more than friends. But we_ can't._ We just_ can't._" Unable to say more, she buried her face in her arms, crying softly into them.

"Kara..." Davy placed his hands on her shoulders. He stroked one cheek gently. "Kara... Starbuck... please, look me."

Slowly Kara uncovered her eyes. There were still tears in them. She sniffled and wiped them away with the sleeve of one arm.

"Starbuck," said Davy earnestly, "Look here."

He rolled up his sleeve and showed her the labor camp barcode burnt into his skin. It was the second time he had shown her this, the first being the day she had received her own.

Kara trembled as Davy took hold of her own right arm. Nevertheless, she allowed him to roll up her jacket sleeve, fully exposing the hideous mark burnt into her skin. As distorted and mutilated as it always was, even more so now when compared to Davy's, the evidence of Skynet's tyranny was plainly in sight.

"There's very little left in this world, Kara." Davy said softly. "The emotions we have. That which makes us human. Which makes us alive. They're all we have now. And when we're dead and gone, all that will be left are the emotions and the feelings we shared with others. But if we don't allow ourselves to share those feelings, they'll die when we die. And then they'll be nothing left of us at all. _Nothing_."

There was a long silence. Davy looked at Kara with a mixture of loving and pleading. Kara felt tears build up in her eyes again. She was burning up all over, yet freezing at the same time. Her heart was constricted, yet it threatened to explode outward.

"I-I'm s-s-sorry, Davy." she whimpered, "I'm so sorry. I-I can't bring myself to do this. I'm just t-too afraid. I don't want to be r-r-responsible for d-destroying another l-life. I just don't."

A fresh onslaught of tears poured down her eyes.

"My life has already been destroyed." Davy said with a sad smile. "All our lives were destroyed on Judgment Day. What we have now between us won't destroy them any more. It can only _improve_ our lives."

Kara shook her head, her eyes squeezed shut. "No." she whispered hoarsely, "I'm sorry. I _can't_. I just can't. I just don't have the courage or the strength."

"You're the bravest, strongest-willed woman I've met, Starbuck." Davy said encouragingly, "If anyone has courage or strength, it's you. I saw that in you the day we met. I-"

_Snap!_

Both Kara and Davy jumped in alarm.

"What was that?" Kara asked looking around.

"Don't know." said Davy, "Let's find out, before it finds us."

"Right." said Kara. She grabbed nearby plasma rifle. So did Davy.

"I think it came from over there." Kara pointed. "Cover me, corporal."

"Got your back, lieutenant." said Davy.

Their emotional discussion temporarily forgotten, Kara and Davy moved slowly in the direction Kara had pointed in. Someone or something was definitely approaching them.

Kara gestured for Davy to hold his fire. He nodded. She then took a deep breath and hollered out: "Evidence never lies!"

"_But the writers sure do!"_

Kara sighed with relief. She gave Davy the order to stand down and then lowered her weapon herself. A moment later Sergeant Becka Feral and another soldier whom Kara did not know appeared.

Becka and her partner saluted Kara, who returned the favor.

"We're here to relieve you, ma'am." said Becka.

"Thank Gods" (Kara mumbled the "s" under her breath) "I stand relieved." She then lowered her voice "Becka, could you accompany me back to the Fort?"

Becka was confused. "But I just got here. This is my shift."

"I know." whispered Kara urgently, "Davy will stay here 'till you get back." She then called out, "Isn't that right, Corporal?"

"What right?" asked Davy, who was just as equally confused.

"You're staying here with- what's your name?" she asked Becka's partner.

"Ponzi, ma'am." he said, "Private Ponzi."

"Corporal Griffin, you're staying with Private Ponzi until Sergeant Feral returns." Kara called out again.

"Starbuck, what's going on?" asked Becka.

"Nevermind that." said Kara hastily, "Just be quiet and escort me back."

Becka raised her eyebrows. "Um... okay..."

"Good. Let's go." Kara started to head off. Becka looked to Davy for an answer. He just shook his head. Sighing loudly, Becka followed in Kara's wake.

Kara followed the path leading to one of Fort Leopard's entrances. Behind her, she heard Ponzi ask "Hey, is that roasted coyote?"

And she heard Davy mutter. "Help yourself."

* * *

**Fort Leopard**

Fort Leopard wasn't a single compound or structure as Bunker Five had been. It was, in fact, a series of mostly underground complexes, some of which could only be accessed from above, and others from below. It housed a lot more people than Bunker Five. And not just soldiers. Civilian refugees too.

At that moment Kara and Becka were moving through the refugee section of Fort Leopard. According Becka, this place had once been a subway station. The train may have been long gone, but the tunnel and the platform had survived the bombs.

And, Kara thought with a gloomy feeling, they would probably survive longer than the current inhabitants. Walking through this place chilled Kara to the bone every time. Everywhere she looked she beheld the last vestiges of the Human Race. Dozens of dirty, raggedy individuals huddled together around small fires. Frail, sickly men slept under filthy blankets. Those without blankets had no choice but to lie on the hard floor. Women held their crying, starving babies to their breasts trying to provide what little comfort they could offer. Children ran back and forth desperately searching for scraps of food.

Kara watched out of the corner of her eye as a pair of boys, no more than eight, beating and stabbing at something with sticks in a corner. Finally, they stopped, and one of them bent down to pick something off the ground. Kara moved to get a better look and saw that the boy was holding a dead rat by the tail regarding it as if it were a priceless treasure. His friend or brother patted him on the back and the two hurried away, disappearing into the sea of humanity's feeble remnants.

Kara lowered her head and sighed. Things had never been this bad in the Fleet. She remembered her time with Anders' resistance group during the Cylon occupation of Caprica. Sure it had been pretty grim there. But this... This was so far beyond grim. This was just plain depressing.

"If you're gonna be here for a while, I'll just be getting back to the surface." said Becka impatiently.

"Wha-?" Kara remembered where she was supposed to be going. "No, no. I-I'd like you to accompany me the rest of the way."

"Right. If you say so."

As the two moved out of the refugee section and into a narrow passageway, Becka spoke up again.

"So, what's the story with you and Davy?" she asked.

"Nothing." said Kara abruptly.

Becka rolled her eyes. "Oh please, Starbuck. You make him stay behind and ask me to come with you instead."

"Well, it's really something I don't want to talk about." Kara replied dismissively.

"Then why did you ask me to come with you?" challenged Becka.

Kara was caught in a lie and she knew it. "Alright," she relented, "Davy told me... well, he wants me and him to be more than just friends."

"Uh huh." said Becka, "'bout time he fessed up. What did you say?"

"I told him I just wanted to stay friends." said Kara. She opened another hatch and stepped through to enter another corridor.

"But that's not what you really want." Becka quipped as she followed, "Is it?"

"How would you know that?"

"Oh come on, Starbuck. I've watched you two long enough to know that you love him. Just as much as he loves you."

"I know he does, Becka. But I would just prefer to stay friends. Makes things less complicated. Anyway, what do you care?"

"I'm his friend." said Becka matter-of-factly, "And I'm your friend too. I care about both of you."

"That's wonderful, Becka." Kara opened a final door which led to the military section of Fort Leopard. "But really, this isn't what I wanted to hear from you. Evening, Sergeant Woods."

Woods, the man everyone in this section checked in and out with, greeted her with a salute. "Evening to you too, lieutenant."

"Please tell me there's an open bunk." Kara asked desperately, "I swear, if I have to sleep on the floor one more time, I am going to kill someone."

"Let's see..." Woods ran his finger down a list, "You're in luck, ma'am. There's one left."

"Excellent." sighed Kara with relief.

She handed over her plasma rifle, grenades, and radio. In return, Woods gave her a small plastic card with a letter and a number indicating the specific barracks and bed.

"Better get back to the surface, Becka." said Kara, "I'll see you later."

"Now wait a minute, Starbuck!" protested Becka. She stepped in front of Kara barring her way.

"What _did_ you want to hear from me?" she asked.

"Nevermind, Becka." Kara pushed her way past.

A persistent Becka chased after her.

"Come on, Starbuck. What did you want me to say?"

Kara stopped and allowed Becka to catch up to her.

"I was hoping" Kara muttered, "that you would be able to tell me how to convince Davy to back off. You know him better than I do."

"Even if I did know," said Becka, "I wouldn't tell you."

Kara sighed. "Somehow I figured you would say that."

"Why can't you at least admit your feelings, Starbuck?"

"Because every time I do, disaster strikes."

"In this world, 'disaster' doesn't mean too much."

"Becka, please just drop it."

But of course, she didn't. Kara and Becka continued to argue back and forth during the entire trek to the troop barracks on Kara's card.

"-and frankly Starbuck," Becka was saying as they entered the barracks, "you really need a healthy way to deal with all this pent up energy. And soon. Otherwise, you're gonna make Judgment Day look like a picnic."

A thoroughly exhausted and exasperated Kara threw up her arms. "Look, Becka. I know you're trying to help. But this _isn't_ helping me. So, please just go back to the surface. Right now, what _will_ help me is a nice soft bed and a few hours of undisturbed sleep. We can talk about this again tomorrow. For now, just-"

"Um, Starbuck, this is Barracks C, right?" Becka interrupted.

Kara stared at her. "Yeah."

"And this here" - Becka pointed to a bed nearby - "is number four?"

Kara moved closer to inspect the number on the side of the bed. "Yes, it is."

"And according to that" - Becka pointed to the card Woods had given Kara - "this bunk is supposed to be empty."

Kara looked at the card again. It was clearly labeled "C4."

"Yeah." she nodded.

"So.... why is someone already in it?"

Kara looked at where Becka was pointing and saw that indeed someone else was sleeping in her bed.

"Must be a mistake." she said. Clearing her throat, she tapped the sleeping man on the shoulder. "Um, excuse me...." she tapped the man's shoulder even harder. "_Excuse me._"

The man grunted and opened his eyes. "There a problem, soldier?"

"Yeah," said Kara trying to stay polite, "I think you're in the wrong bunk."

"I don't think so." said the man.

"Well according to this," Kara held up the card, "this bunk is supposed to be empty."

The man sat up and looked at the card. Kara heard Becka gasp softly behind her. She didn't bother to ask why however.

The man in the bunk shrugged. "Looks like you're out of luck today, lieutenant."

"What are you talking about? It says here-"

"I know what it says, lieutenant. And _I'm_ saying you're out of luck."

Outraged, Kara opened her mouth to fire back, but Becka spoke before she could.

"Sorry to disturb you, sir. We'll, uh, find some place else." She tugged on Kara's shoulder. "Come on, Starbuck. Let's scram."

"W-wait a minute, Becka." snapped Kara, "I'm not going anywhere."

"Starbuck..." Becka said slowly and cautiously, "What are you doing?"

Kara winked at Becka. "Just watch me."

She then turned back to the intruder. "I don't think you understand," she said, her frustration thinly veiled, "I have this plastic doohickey which means that I get to sleep here. _Me_. Not you."

The man gave her a wryly smile. "Well," he said casually, "Being me... has its privileges."

Kara let out a loud sigh. "Okay," she said quietly, "I'm going to make this as simple and as to-the-point as possible: _I want you off this frakkin' bunk, you prick!_"

"Starbuck!" exclaimed Becka. "What the hell are you-"

"Don't shut me up, Becka!" snapped Kara. Over a week's worth of pent up frustration at the lack of action and the lack of information was finally boiling over. "Who the FRAK do you think you are anyway?!" she yelled at the man.

"I'm-"

"Yeah, yeah." sneered Kara, "You're a nice guy. You're a nice guy, but that don't frakking cut it when you're bullshitting and frakking around like this in somebody else's bunk."

The man in her bunk looked at her with a somewhat amused expression. "Lieutenant," he said calmly, "I highly advise you to pull yourself-"

"_SHUT UP!_" screeched Kara, her face red with anger, "I'm going to frakking kick your frakking ass if you don't shut up for a second, alright?!"

All around her, the other soldiers in the barracks had woken up and, like Becka, were now staring at Kara in total shock and disbelief. But Kara was too busy venting to care.

"I have been through enough bullshit for one day," she said in a soft but dangerous voice, "So, I am only going to ask you one more time. Get. Out. Of. Here. Right. Frakkin. Now."

The man just raised his eyebrows, shook his head and laughed. "You kind of remind me of my mother, lieutenant."

"Alright, _that's it_!" snarled Kara, "You frakking asked for this, pal!"

She curled her right fist into a ball and drew it back, but Becka suddenly grabbed her from behind and pulled her back.

"Get off me, Becka!" Kara spat. She struggled hard. "Let go, damn it! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Preventing you from making a _huge_ fucking mistake, Starbuck." hissed Becka, who was holding Kara back with every ounce of strength. "Do you have _any_ fucking clue who that is?"

"Do I _look_ like I give a frak?" Kara asked rhetorically.

"You _should_!"

"Why?! Who the _hell_ is he?!"

Becka answered with two words. Two words which instantly made Kara cease her struggle, her face go from bright red to chalk white, and her mind say,_ "Oh... frak."_

_

* * *

_

**Disclaimer 2: No coyotes were harmed in the creation of this chapter.**

A/N: Remember the Skynet aircraft carrier from "Allison From Palmdale." Expect it to show up next chapter. Also Kara will encounter a type of Terminator that truly frightens her: The T-666.

A/N2: "Being me... has its privileges." is a line from "Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince" (awesome movie, by the way)

Please leave a nice review.


	24. The Hunt For the TOK 715

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**Robotfan**: Kara won't be flying in an F-16 for a while. However, in this chapter she does fly in a Black Hawk helicopter.

**LordZeus**: Kara's not too old for Davy. She's 28 at this point (based on Katee Sackhoff's real age). I think of Davy as being in his mid-late twenties. About muffit showing up - I will ONLY consider doing it under the condition that it suffers the most horrible, gruesome death imaginable.

**Jena: ** Yeah, I saw the "Family Guy" parody of the Bale meltdown. I thought it was pretty funny too.

Here's chapter 24. It's a long one. Read and Review.

A/N: Future John's physical description is written to match his Terminator Salvation appearance.

* * *

Kara Thrace's mouth had gotten her into trouble more times than she cared to remember. She had never tried to control it. In fact, she often prided herself in her willingness to voice her opinion. She took even more pride in her willingness to defend her opinion using whatever tactics. A lot of people would call this being insolent and pigheaded.

Kara, on the other hand, preferred the words assertive and tenacious. Two words which she often used to describe herself.

Right now, however, Kara was not defining herself as being assertive or tenacious. Right now, she felt the phrase "in deep shit" best described her.

She hadn't said a word since Becka had revealed to her the identity of the man she had only moments before been ready to knock the lights out of. Her brain, however, was screaming at herself.

"_Oh frak, oh frak, oh frak, oh frak! What the hell were you thinking, Starbuck? Were you even _thinking_ at all?_ _You just made a threat against the frakkin' leader of the Resistance! What the frak is wrong with you? Couldn't you have controlled your big fat mouth for once in your miserable life - which is now about to get ten times more miserable."_

Silence reigned through the barracks as General John Connor casually got off the bunk, which Kara had been attempting to oust him from. Becka was still restraining Kara, though she didn't need to, seeing how Kara had already ceased her struggling. She tried to look at Becka, but Becka avoided making eye contact. None of the other soldiers in the barracks were trying to look Kara in the face either. Kara didn't blame them.

Trying to maintain calm - at least on the outside - Kara looked at John Connor for the first time since learning of his identity. One look told her that Connor had definitely earned his reputation. He was a fortyish-something year old man of well-build, with a military-style buzz cut. His face was grimy and unshaven like many of his followers. A thick scar ran down one cheek. A scar, Kara realized, that had been left behind by a glancing plasma bolt.

"Give us the room." Connor ordered. His voice was firm and commanding.

Everyone immediately began filing out of the room. Becka released Kara but did not leave her.

"Sergeant," said Connor, "I said give us the room."

"S-sir-" Becka tried to protest.

"Get out of here, Becka." whispered Kara urgently.

"But Starbuck-"

"Just go. Please go."

Becka reluctantly did as she was told.

Then it was just Kara in the room standing awkwardly before John Connor.

Kara suppressed a gulp and stood at attention as Connor regarded her. He seemed to be looking her over like the way one might examine a car they were thinking about purchasing. His expression was unreadable. There was a moment when his eyes met Kara's. It was only a moment, but they made Kara instantly think of some sort of combination of Bill Adama, Saul Tigh, and Sergeant Mac. Hopefully, not too much of Tigh.

"So," said Connor at last, "you're Lieutenant Kara Thrace? Also called 'Starbuck' - a name which I'm told you claim has nothing to do with coffee."

Kara squared her shoulders and nodded stiffly. "Yes, sir." she said in the most soldier-like manner she could muster.

"At ease, lieutenant." said Connor.

Kara relaxed slightly.

"Well," Connor observed, "I see the stories about you were correct. You do have a lot of guts."

"Yes, sir." Kara then blurted out, "Sir, I sincerely apologize for my, em, _indiscretion_ back there. I-I just had absolutely _no_ idea who I was talking to. I honestly didn't expect to find you here - I mean in _here_, you know... in here..." She trailed off.

"I'm like you, Thrace." Connor stated, "A soldier."

"Of course you are, sir." said Kara hastily, "I just didn't know you slept here."

"Sleep is something one can't be too picky about," Connor said, "You do it wherever you can, so long as you can wake up in the same place." He gave her a small smile. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"

"Yes, sir. I-I'm not like that... picky, I mean..." Kara tried to control her stammering, "It's just that um, I've kind been a little, ah, _testy_ lately."

"I can see why." Connor replied, "You're someone who belongs in battle. Not cooped up behind the front."

Kara nodded in agreement.

"I take it" Connor continued, "that you must be curious about why you and your two friends were brought here."

Kara's heart skipped a beat. She nodded even more vigorously.

"I thought so," said Connor, "Well, you'll find out soon. Tomorrow. Oh-eight hundred hours. Staff room. Do you know where that is?"

"Yes, sir."

"I'll see you there, lieutenant. Don't be late."

"Understood."

"One more thing, Thrace. You are not to tell anyone of this meeting. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"In that case, goodnight to you, lieutenant. I'll see you in the morning." Connor then turned and briskly walked away.

Kara continued standing, her mind still somewhat numb. Eventually, her legs started to tire and give way and she sat down on the bunk - now _her_ bunk - not that she really cared anymore.

"Fuck..." she heard someone utter.

Her eyes bulged out in horror upon remembering that she was the only one in the room. Which could only mean one thing...

"_God help me. I'm going native! Wait... Oh crap! Did I just say... I did, didn't I?"_

* * *

Kara couldn't remember how she managed to get any sleep that night. All she knew is that managed to sleep because she woke up in her bunk. Her time piece read 0727 hours. Little more than half an hour before she was supposed to be in the staff room.

Not wishing to screw up again, Kara pulled herself out of bed. She took a quick lukewarm shower, got dressed, returned her plastic card to Woods, grabbed a stale biscuit for breakfast, and hurried off for the staff room. She made no attempt to converse with anyone along the way as not only would that waste time, but she had no wish to talk about her little incident with Connor the other night - which had probably reached the ears of every inhabitant at Fort Leopard by now.

It was 0755 hours by the time she reached the staffroom, which was guarded by several heavily armed soldiers and a pair of dogs.

"I'm here to see General Connor," she told the guards, speaking through labored breaths.

The head guard, a tall, powerful-looking sergeant, looked her over. "Lieutenant Thrace?" he asked.

Kara nodded. "That's right, sergeant."

The guards behind the sergeant murmured and whispered to one another, making Kara feel a little uncomfortable. Then again she couldn't blame people for muttering.

The sergeant, however, merely nodded his head. He then asked Kara to relieve herself of her side arm and any other weapons she had on her. Normally, Kara would have made some sort of smartass joke, but she wasn't in her "normal" mood right now. As such, she silently handed over her side arm and combat knife, and then allowed herself to be scanned with a metal detector and physically patted down without a fuss.

"Wait inside, ma'am." the sergeant told her after they were finished, "The general will see you shortly."

The staff room was as bare and gritty as any other room in Fort Leopard, though more spacious and better lit. Kara wasn't the only one waiting for Connor. Sitting at a table in the center of the room was General Koontz, an elderly soldier in his late sixties and commander of Fort Leopard.

Kara had only met Koontz once, when she had first arrived at Fort Leopard. She hadn't been able to get a good measure of the man, but from what she had heard, Koontz was a battle-hardened soldier who had been in the military long before Judgment Day. He had commanded one of the more successful pre-Tech Com resistance groups and had been one of Connor's first major allies in the war. That was enough to warrant at least some respect.

Also present at the table was a forty-something balding man with glasses, and a small but fierce-looking woman in her fifties. Neither of these Kara had met before.

There was one last individual at the table. Much to her dismay, Kara saw it was Colonel Sloan.

Koontz, the first one to notice Kara's presence, beckoned to her. "Ah, Lieutenant Thrace," he said, age evident in his voice, "Please, sit down."

Kara took a seat next to the unknown woman, which placed her as far away from Sloan as possible.

"Lieutenant, I don't believe you've met Colonel Alice Granger." Koontz gestured to the woman next to Kara. "She's the commander of the RAF."

"RAF?" asked Kara.

"Resistance Air Force, lieutenant." said Granger with pride, "Not a very large division, but a damn good one. The best pilots left in the world."

"I'll bet." said Kara. Her voice was calm, but her inside were giddy at the mention of the term "best pilots."

"That over there," Koontz gestured at the man with glasses, "is Stephen Hodgins. One of our finest technicians. Practically invented Scrubbing."

"Nice to meet you." said Kara politely.

"Good to meet you too, lieutenant." said Hodgins, adjusting his glasses slightly.

"And," finished Koontz, "I believe you already know Colonel Sloan here."

Kara felt a muscle in her neck throb. "Yes." she said mildly, "I do."

From the opposite end of the table, Sloan gave her a nod of recognition. "Good to see you again, lieutenant."

"Good to see you too, Colonel." Kara said in a very low voice.

"_Stay cool, Starbuck."_ she told herself repeatedly, _"He's not worth it, remember."_

Fortunately for her, the door opened a moment later and General Connor entered. Everyone stood at attention. Connor motioned for everyone to sit down. He then took his own seat at the front of the table.

"I take it you all know Lieutenant Thrace here," Connor began, "I also assume most of you are wondering why she's here."

He gazed around the table. "Before we begin, let me remind you all that what we're about to discuss must not be shared with anyone outside this room. Is that clear?"

There was chorus of "Yes, sir."

Satisfied, Connor produced a black and white photograph from his pocket and slid it in front of Kara.

"Do you recognize this place, lieutenant?"

Kara stared at the image. Her right forearm began tingling as memories flashed through her mind.

"Yes, sir." she said quietly, "It's a Skynet prison. I was taken here a little more than a week ago."

Connor nodded. "You and then-Private Griffin. The two of you were rescued by Sergeant Macintosh, then-Corporal Feral, and Private Cooper. During the escape, Macintosh and Cooper were both killed. Is that true?"

"Yes, sir." Kara acknowledged quietly, memories of Mac's lifeless body still fresh in her head.

"It was more than a prison though," said Connor, "It was a research facility. You, Feral and Griffin were witnesses to a Skynet experiment."

There was a pause, in which Kara suddenly realized what this was about.

"The facility." she gasped, "That's why I'm here at Fort Leopard! And why Becka and Davy are too. The three of us were the only ones who saw what went on in that place and got out alive."

Connor nodded again. "Exactly."

"But..." Kara suddenly realized something else, "But why aren't Davy and B-, I mean Corporal Griffin and Sergeant Feral with us too?"

"Perhaps, I should explain," said General Koontz, "You see, lieutenant, when you, Griffin, and Feral were summoned here, we only knew that three of you had been inside that facility and had made it out alive. That's all your old superior, the late Lieutenant Green, told us in his report. He wasn't even aware of Skynet's experiment."

"_Oh, he was aware of it all right."_ thought Kara bitterly.

"While you were defending Bunker Five," Koontz continued, "troops under the command of Colonel Sloan were storming that facility. If you'll explain, Colonel Sloan."

"Certainly, sir." Sloan made very little effort to hide the smugness in his voice. "We successfully captured the facility. The machines were in the process of abandoning it, but we still managed to capture a redundant data core. The core was brought back here."

Hodgins entered the discussion. "I spent a week working with that core. It was heavily encrypted but" - he clapped his hands in triumph- "I was able to break through. Most of the information in the core was irrelevant as it applied exclusively to the facility - which was abandoned, but I did find multiple references to Lieutenant Thrace. Most of them described her as a '_subject of interest._'"

"Of interest?" inquired Sloan.

"Most?" repeated Kara confused.

"The most recent reference had you labeled as '_subject to be terminated_'," Hodgins explained, "But the one just before that referred to you as an _'essential component of Tempest'_."

"Tempest? What's that?" asked Kara.

"The name of Skynet's little project." Connor answered.

Kara shook her head. "I still don't understand why I'm the only one here."

"I found only one reference to Griffin, which labeled him as _'subject to be interrogated then terminated'_." Hodgins replied. "There were no references to Feral."

"We know now that neither Griffin nor Feral have any information on Skynet's project," added Koontz, "But we think there's a good chance _you_ might."

"We were hoping," said Connor, "that you would be able to shed some light on why Skynet was so interested in you. That you could tell us more about the experiment."

Kara was silent. Everyone was looking at her now. Sloan had a hungry expression on his face which made Kara squirm. Connor, however, gave her a reassuring look.

"I do know more." said Kara quietly, "What I saw there... what happened to me..." she sighed, "It's not something I'll be forgetting any time soon."

"Then tell us." said Sloan impatiently.

Kara glared at him. "It's not something that's easy to talk about." she said tersely, "And frankly, some parts you may not believe."

"Just tell us what happened, lieutenant." said Connor gently, "No one will interrupt or question you."

He gave her another reassuring look.

"Okay..." Kara took a deep breath and then launched into a detailed account of everything that had happened to her in the facility - including her unexpected rescue by the Prototype endoskeleton. When she was finished, she leaned back in her chair and braced herself for the expected onslaught of questions.

"So if I understand this," said Granger, who had not spoken at all since Connor arrived, "you were _saved_ by a machine? The same machine that had been built to _replace_ you?"

Kara nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

"Why? Was it malfunctioning?" Granger asked.

"Maybe." said Kara, "I don't think so, though. This thing seemed to know what it was doing."

"Tell us again" asked Koontz, "what was the reason the machine gave you for its actions?"

"It said it believed I was the key to its evolution or something along those lines." Kara replied.

"But I thought Skynet didn't want to use you in its experiment anymore." said Hodgins.

"I know." said Kara, "That's what I'm saying. This thing _disagreed_ with Skynet."

"That's... that's just _fascinating_." exclaimed Hodgins. He was clearly intrigued. "There have been cases of machines turning against each other when their objectives conflict. But I've never heard of something like _this_ before. This... this is just _incredible_. It's unbelievable."

"Indeed." said Sloan crisply, _"Unbelievable_."

Kara groaned inside her head. _"Oh hell..."_

Sloan had a very cold, very nasty smile on his face. "Tell me, lieutenant, doesn't it concern you that this machine went to such extraordinary lengths to keep you alive?"

"No, not really." answered Kara, trying to keep herself cool.

Sloan stared at her. "It doesn't?"

"Machines don't care about the means. They just care about the ends." Kara replied. She smirked out the corner of her mouth. "They're a lot like certain people." To her delight, Sloan's face grew tense for a moment.

Recomposing himself quickly, Sloan cleared his throat and stated, "Perhaps I should be more clear. Skynet only keeps humans alive when it believes those humans are valuable to it. The machines it commands operate on that same principle."

"I told you before," said an annoyed Kara, "this particular machine considered me valuable."

"Ah, yes." said Sloan, with thinly veiled scoff, "The 'key to its evolution'. Is that so?"

"That's what it said." Kara acknowledged.

"What exactly did this machine want from you in exchange for your freedom?" Sloan asked.

Kara shrugged. "Nothing. Save that I not die. Which, by the way, I was more than happy to oblige with."

A faint smirk flashed across Sloan's face. "Is that it?" he asked quietly, "Is that all it wanted from you?"

Kara rolled her eyes. "No. It wanted me to give it head." she said sarcastically, "_Yes_, that's all it said it wanted from me. If it wanted anything else, it sure didn't tell me."

Sloan looked unconvinced. "How... _generous_." he said softly. He leaned back in his chair. "Especially for a ruthless killing machine dedicated to the destruction of the human race."

"Yeah, it was generous." said Kara with a shrug. She then added, "More so than some others I've met."

"Didn't you find this the least bit suspicious?" Sloan asked.

"_Of course_, I did!" exclaimed Kara, "Hell, I wouldn't have been surprised if this had all turned out to be some kind of sadistic game."

"And yet, you went along with it."

"I was trapped in the middle of a Skynet base, surrounded by enemies, with no one to turn to. I had nothing to lose at that point."

"Tell me, Thrace," said Sloan, "Does this mean you're indebted to a machine now? Indebted to the _enemy_."

"Benedict, _please_." Koontz cut in, "Lieutenant Thrace is _not_ indebted to the enemy."

"My apologies, sir." said Sloan quickly, "I didn't mean to say that Thrace is_ in fact _indebted. I only meant to ask if she _feels_ indebted to the machine."

"_Feel indebted_?" Kara gnashed her teeth, "I don't feel _indebted_ to this thing! I don't owe it _anything_!"

"Of course you don't. So, if you were to encounter this machine again, you wouldn't hesitate to destroy it?" Sloan inquired casually, "You wouldn't try to help it, like it helped you?"

"No! I-" Kara stopped mid-sentence. She was so angry, she couldn't say anything else.

"You were saying, lieutenant?" said Sloan calmly.

Kara settled down a bit. "I have nothing more to say about this." she said quietly.

"I'm afraid that's not a good response." said Sloan.

Kara's temper flared again. "With respect, _sir_," she said the last word with as much contempt as possible, "I don't like it when people question my loyalties."

"Nobody likes their loyalties being questioned." said Sloan tartly, "But it does help us remember where they lie."

Furious, Kara leapt out of her chair. "I didn't get this _shit_ burnt into my skin whilst having drinks with a machine!" she snarled. She pulled up her right sleeve exposing the disfigured POW barcode on her arm.

"I did not make _any_ sort of deal with the enemy!" she continued shouting, "I am not a traitor or a machine sympathizer or whatever the frak it is you're accusing me of! I swore an oath to the Resistance! If you think you can just sit there and call me-"

"_Alright, that's enough!"_

Silenced, Kara slowly turned to look at Connor. He was glaring angrily. But not at her. He was glaring in the direction she had been glowering at moments before. At Sloan.

Finally, Connor's face relaxed and he turned to Kara. "Please sit down, lieutenant." he said gently.

Slowly, Kara lowered herself back into her seat. She stared down at the table. No one said a word.

Connor turned to address the others. "The purpose of this meeting," he said sternly, "is to discuss Skynet's experiment. _Not_ to assess Lieutenant Thrace's loyalty."

Sloan began to protest. "But sir-"

Connor cut him off. "I said that's _enough_, colonel."

Sloan looked sour but he obediently replied, "Yes, sir."

Satisfied he had gotten the message across, Connor began speaking in a normal voice once more. "What Thrace has just described is the latest development in the TOK-715 - a new type of Terminator that's meant not only to look human but to think like one too. As you heard Thrace explain, Skynet was interested in her past and how and why she thinks the way she does."

Kara heard Sloan murmur under his breath, "_Don't we all."_ She threw a filthy look at him.

"Pardon me, sir." said Koontz, "I'm not quite sure I understand. Skynet comes up with all these plans to use Lieutenant Thrace as a template for its project. Then at the last moment, it decides to kill her instead. Why?"

"Apparently I have some kind of... mutation or whatever in my DNA." said Kara, "Skynet freaked out when it learned about it."

"What sort of... mutation?" asked Granger curiously.

Kara shrugged. "Something in my mitochondrial DNA. Didn't sound like anything life threatening."

"But why did Skynet see it as a threat?" asked Koontz, "Why be afraid of something so _minor_?"

"Because," Hodgins jumped in, "Skynet probably sees DNA the same way it sees computer code. An equation. A mutation - no matter how small - would be like an error in an equation. Skynet would want to have it purged."

"Skynet only understands what is tangible. What can be physically analyzed. What is _real_." Connor added, "It doesn't understand humans beyond our flesh and blood. It doesn't _want_ to understand. That's why it's trying to build a machine that can understand humans. So that it doesn't have to _itself_."

"Delegating the crappy jobs to its minions." quipped Kara.

"The machine Lieutenant Thrace described," Connor continued, "saved her because it saw past her DNA. Something which Skynet itself couldn't do. That's definitely progress. Skynet may be closer to finalizing the TOK-715 than any of us anticipate."

"But it rejected Thrace as a template." pointed out Koontz, "That sounds like a major setback to me."

"It found someone else." said Kara.

Everyone stared at her

"The Triple-Eight which attacked Bunker Five told me that they had already found another candidate. A genetically suitable one." explained Kara.

"Who?" asked Connor urgently.

"A young woman like me." answered Kara, "That's all it told me. I didn't get a name or anything."

Connor now had a look of dread on his face. He looked at Koontz, who was equally grim as well.

"Jeff," Connor said quietly, "Do you think... Could it be?"

"I-I don't know, John." said Koontz, "I hope to God not."

"But what if..." Connor trailed off.

"What? What is it?" Kara asked.

Neither Connor nor Koontz answered. Connor turned around with his back to the others and placed his hands behind his back. He looked down at the ground. It was obvious that he was greatly disturbed and conflicted over what to do next.

No one spoke. Ten seconds of silence passed. Twenty seconds. Thirty. A full minute. Finally, Connor turned around. His face was grimmer than ever. But there was also determination burning in his eyes.

"We have to end this." he said firmly, "Today."

"Sir?" asked Koontz.

"Skynet cannot be allowed to complete this project." Connor stated, "We're putting an end to it, today."

"Do we know where they've relocated?" Kara asked eagerly.

"Yes," replied Connor, "we know _exactly_ where it is. Last week, our intelligence intercepted an enemy transmission. It contained two sets of coordinates. The first was for the research facility that Colonel Sloan's men captured. We managed to decipher the second set three days ago. The coordinates we found led us to this."

He pulled out another photo and slid it towards the center of the table. Koontz was the first to get his hands on it.

"An aircraft carrier?" he said. "That's where they've relocated their research?"

Connor nodded. "Colonel Granger, I need your fliers ready for action."

"How many?" asked Granger.

"Two full squadrons of choppers, and a full squadron of fighter planes."

"Seems like an awful lot to sink a ship."

"We're not going to sink it, Alice." said Connor.

Granger frowned in confusion. "We're not?"

"Not yet. Intel reports there are prisoners onboard that ship. At least fifty. We need to get them out of there first."

"Sir," said Koontz, "Rescuing those prisoners would mean we would have to..."

Connor nodded. "Board the ship."

"How do we even know these prisoners are still alive?" asked Sloan coldly.

"We don't." admitted Connor, "But we have to make sure."

"With all due respect, sir," said Koontz, "Is this about saving prisoner? Or about saving _a_ prisoner?"

"It's about our duty to protect and preserve our race." Connor declared. Kara felt her heart swell with great respect for Connor.

"Sir," Koontz started to say, "I really think you should consider-"

Connor held up a hand to quiet him. "I've made up my mind, General. We search that ship before we sink it. Am I understood?"

"Understood, sir." Koontz sighed, "May I ask who will be leading this mission?"

"I am." Connor's reply was soft yet firm.

The reaction was not so soft.

"What?" gasped Hodgins.

"Sir!" exclaimed Granger in protest.

Koontz shook his head. "John," he said, "I think you're letting this become a personal matter."

"It _is_ personal, Jeff." Connor said sharply, "That's why I'm leading this mission. This is something I have to be part of. I _have_ to."

"Sir, you need to accept that-"

"_No_, General! Not until I see it with my own eyes!" Connor's expression was fierce, yet his eyes were full of emotion. Of sorrow and guilt. Kara thought, for a fleeting moment, that there was a tear in his eye.

"_What is this all about?"_ she wondered.

Connor recomposed himself and turned back to Granger. "Colonel Granger," he said, "When can your fliers be ready?"

"Eight maybe seven hours." answered Granger.

"You have six."

"Six it is, sir."

"General Koontz, Colonel Sloan," Connor then said, "I need your commando teams to assemble for a mission briefing at eleven-hundred hours. Do not tell them anything about the TOK-715. As far as anyone outside this room knows, this is a rescue mission. And it _is_ a rescue mission."

"Yes, sir." said Koontz and Sloan.

"Hodgins, I need to speak with our, ahem, mutual acquaintance as soon as possible."

"I can arrange that, sir."

"Lieutenant Thrace," Connor turned to Kara. "I'd like you to accompany me on this mission."

Kara's heart jumped. "Me? On the mission, sir?"

"Yes. You've been waiting to get back in the game for a while, haven't you?"

"Of-of course." said Kara, "I-I just-"

_"Oh for frak's sake, Starbuck, who cares why? It's a mission! With Connor himself! Just say 'Yes, sir.'"_

"Yes, sir."

* * *

**1139 Hours, Briefing Room, Fort Leopard**

"-which means you'll have at most two hours before the metals show up to investigate the loss of contact with their carrier." Connor informed the soldiers gathered before him, "So get in, find the prisoners, get the prisoners out, and then get out yourselves before that happens. Any questions?"

One man raised his hand. "Sir, aren't we forgetting the part where we blow the place sky high?"

Connor cleared this throat. "We didn't forget that part, corporal. I can't go into any details, but I will tell you this: You'd better be off that ship before your two hours are up. If the metals don't get you, well... you'll see. Any more questions?"

No one raised their hand this time.

"Good." said Connor. "We leave at fourteen hundred hours on the mark. Get your asses topside by then. And remember, me getting killed does _not _guarantee you all instant promotions."

A chorus of laughter echoed around the room.

_"Wow... can't remember the Old Man ever making _that_ joke before."_ thought Kara.

Five minutes later, the briefing room was empty except for two people - Kara Thrace and John Connor.

Upon noticing Kara was still in the room, Connor asked her, "Something bothering you, Thrace?"

Kara nodded. "I-I was just wondering, sir, why you want me on this mission."

"Because," Connor answered, "you have a personal stake in this as well."

"I do?"

"You almost fell victim to Skynet's experiment. I'd think you'd want to see some resolution to this. Am I correct?"

Kara paused to think. The memory of her ordeal at the facility coursed through her mind. She winced as her POW barcode surged with pain. It was as if that damn laser scanner was still burning the mark into her skin. She saw one possible way to make the pain go away forever.

Kara looked up at Connor who was waiting for her response.

"Sir," she said, "I'd be _delighted_ to kick some metal ass with you."

Connor smiled at her with approval. "That's _exactly_ what I wanted to hear from you, Starbuck."

Kara smiled back.

* * *

Kara couldn't help but feel a little guilty as she armed and equipped herself in front of Becka and Davy. She was about to go off into battle without her faithful friends.

"I can't believe they're sending you out there without us." said Davy.

"I'll try not to have too much fun." Kara said reassuringly. "Don't want to make you guys feel like you missed out on anything."

She finished strapping on her armored vest. "Well," she held out her arms to give Becka and Davy a clear look at her battle-ready self. "How do I look?"

Becka smiled. "Exceptional."

"Outstanding." said Davy.

Kara grinned. "Wonderful."

"Good hunting, Starbuck." Becka wished her.

"Thanks, Becka."

Kara turned to Davy.

"Davy," she said quietly, "About what you said the other day. About emotions being the only thing we have left in this world." She sighed. "You're right. They are all we have left. So, I-I... emmm..."

"Go on, Starbuck." Davy encouraged, "You can say it."

She knew what she wanted to say, but all that came out was: "I-I... er... well... you know..."

Looking for an excuse to get out - any excuse - Kara glanced down at her watch. It read 1340 hours. She had a mere twenty minutes to get topside.

"I'd better get going." She grabbed her helmet and started to leave when Davy grabbed her by the arm.

"You can't keep doing this, Kara." he said.

"Doing what?"

"Running from yourself."

Kara pulled herself free. "Yeah," she muttered, "You're probably right. But I can try."

She left without another word.

* * *

**1507 Hours, California Coast**

She hadn't even entered the fight, and Kara already felt better than she had in the last ten days. The whirring of the helicopter blades and the hum of the engines were music to her ears. The chatter over the radio were lyrics to a song.

"Blue team this is Bad Wolf One, inbound with Gold team plus boss." the pilot was saying, "Sitrep, over."

"_Bad Wolf One, Blue team. Pancake secure. Repeat, pancake secure."_

"Roger that Blue team. Bad Wolf One coming in. Out." The pilot looked over his shoulder. "We're coming in for a landing, folks!" he shouted, "ETA: Two minutes!"

Captain Rice, head of Gold team, the unit Kara had been assigned to, called out to the other Resistance fighters inside: "Alright boys and girl" - (Kara was the only woman in the chopper) - "lock and load! Keep your eyes peeled. LZ's green but that can change any moment. Don't let the metals catch you with your pants down."

Kara strapped her helmet on and slid a fresh energy cell into her plasma rifle. The weapon hummed with power. It felt refreshingly warm in her hands.

Flying into combat in a Resistance Black Hawk helicopter was just like flying into combat in a Colonial Raptor. It was serene. Like a slice of paradise. The only thing that would make it better would be if she was piloting the craft herself.

Kara made a mental note to have a chat with Colonel Granger about getting into the RAF. Sure, Kara was good fighting on two feet. But her heart and soul belonged in the cockpit. She was confident she could fly a Black Hawk or anything the Resistance had in its arsenal. After all, she had taught herself how to fly a Cylon Raider. Things couldn't get any more complicated than _that_.

"Doesn't look like Blue Team left much for us." she heard one soldier comment.

"Don't worry, Rod. I'm sure they'll be plenty more inside." another replied.

Staring out the window of the chopper, Kara bore witness to the scene below. The Skynet aircraft carrier, an ancient, rusting hulk, lay motionless within the harbor of the ruined city. Its presence in the sea was like an ugly stain on an otherwise clean bed sheet. The deck was dotted with fires from the initial wave of the Resistance's attack.

Kara turned away from the window and looked towards the rear of the chopper where General Connor was sitting alone, silent as the grave. He was neither nervous nor excited like the other troops. His hardened face was marked with an odd mixture of calmness and foreboding. Of anticipation and resignation. He was hoping for the best, but expecting the worst.

The only thing Kara didn't understand was what was the "best" and what was the "worst" in Connor's mind. He had a personal stake in this mission. But what was it?

She recalled how he had reacted when she mentioned the Triple-Eight informing her that they had acquired another candidate for their experiment.

The machine's ominous words echoed through her mind: _"...__we have already acquired another human for our needs... A young female much like you. She exhibits many of your psychological traits."_

Something clicked in Kara's brain. That was it! Connor was here to rescue a certain prisoner. A woman he believed Skynet was planning to use to complete its project. But who was this woman? Was she in fact the same woman the Triple-Eight had mentioned before? Connor seemed to think so.

"Thirty seconds to touch down!"

Kara steered herself away from any further speculation. She had a job to do now. She couldn't afford any distractions.

"Ten seconds to touch down!"

Kara steeled herself. Moments later she felt a tremor as the chopper landed on the deck of the enemy carrier. A door slid open.

"_Move! Move! Move!_" bellowed Rice.

Before she knew it, Kara found herself filing out with the rest of the troops. Her feet hit the deck of the carrier. The wind from the chopper's blades washed over her face blowing in the scents of burning metal and salty water. The two distinct smells combined to create an aroma that Kara found... enticing. Adrenaline and blood rushed through her body.

Now all she needed was something to shoot...

Then at that very instant, something suddenly and unexpectedly clawed at her ankle. Startled, Kara spun around and saw a metal hand feebly reaching out at her. The hand belonged to an endoskeleton. What was left of it anyway. The machine had already been blown in half by either the assault copters or the troops in the first wave of the attack. To add insult to injury, the endo's upper torso was now trapped beneath the belly of the Black Hawk. The only things visible now were its left arm and its head.

Kara watched the machine thrash and flail helplessly underneath the chopper. The endo alternated between trying to free itself and reaching out at Kara with its free arm as though asking for her hand. Actually, it was trying to reach her neck - which would never happen even if it wasn't stuck underneath a helicopter. The sight was so pathetic, Kara almost felt sorry for the damaged endo.

But "almost" rarely counted for much in her book.

Kara raised her plasma rifle to her shoulder and placed the barrel less than a foot away from the endo's skull. Smiling nastily, she whispered, "This just ain't your day, is it, pal?"

She pulled the trigger and blew the endo's skull wide open. The metal arm went limp and plopped lifelessly onto the deck.

Kara felt a surge of life course through her body._ "Oh yeah! I am definitely back in the game now!"_

Meanwhile, General Connor and Captain Rice, who had been the last to depart from the Black Hawk, were now talking in private. The general commotion made it difficult for Kara to catch much, but from the gist of things, it sounded like Rice was trying to convince Connor to stay back. Didn't sound like Rice was having much success either.

"Pardon me, lieutenant." Kara jumped slightly at the sound of a familiar voice.

Marcus, the scrubbed Triple-Eight that had saved her life over a week ago, stood before her once more. He carried in his right hand what could be described as a small cannon. The Terminator had obviously been part of the initial wave of troops, seeing as how half his face had been burned away. Kara tried not to flinch at the sight of the partially exposed metal skull.

She cleared her throat. "Uh, hi, Marcus. Nice seeing you here."

Marcus gave her a nod of acknowledgment. "Hello again, Starbuck. I must speak with General Connor immediately."

"Oh sure," Kara stepped aside, "Go right ahead."

"Thank you." The machine strode past her.

The other soldiers nearby looked at Marcus with uneasiness, some tightening their grips on their weapons. Nevertheless, they moved out of the way and allowed Marcus to pass without trouble. Kara suspected that they may have done so not out of respect or trust, but because they didn't want to be on the wrong end of that enormous gun Marcus carried.

"General Connor." Marcus called out.

Connor broke away from his discussion with Rice. "What's the situation here, Marcus?" he asked.

"Red team has gained entry." Marcus stated, "They are moving towards their objectives at this moment."

"Good." Connor turned to Rice. "We'd better get moving, captain."

"Yes, sir." said Rice. He then shouted, "Gold team, get ready. We're going in!"

So far, so good. Under the cover of elaborate sensor jamming, Resistance fighter craft had engaged the Aerial HKs and Banshees protecting the carrier, sending most to the bottom of the sea and driving the others off. Helicopters had simultaneously bombarded the carrier itself, destroying the communications tower, the gun emplacements, and as many enemy troops as possible. The copters had then released Blue team into the fray to mop up the remaining enemy presence.

While all this had been going on, a squadron of Resistance naval ships had stealthily arrived with Red team who, according to Marcus, had recently managed to cut their way through the hull of the carrier. Red team was now heading towards its destination - the area of the ship suspected of containing the prisoners.

"Set your weapons for three shot burst maximum. Watch your backs, check all corners, and keep your eyes peeled for any traps." Rice ordered the troops, "Remember, our job is to clear a path to the surface for Red team and any prisoners they've rescued. So watch where you're shooting. We don't want any friendly fire incidents."

He lowered his voice as he addressed Kara individually, "Lieutenant Thrace, keep your eyes on the boss." He gestured with his head at John Connor who was speaking with Marcus nearby. "Don't let him out of your sight. Understood?"

Kara nodded. "Yes, sir."

Connor turned to speak to all of them. "Marcus will be taking point." he said, "The rest of Blue team will stay here and hold the surface while we link up with Red team."

No one objected to this. Kara knew why. Better a tough machine lead the charge and take the brunt of the punishment than a human. And besides, it was always good to keep someone in front of you instead of behind you. Especially if that someone was a killing machine with one big motherfrakkin' gun.

* * *

The interior of the aircraft carrier gave Kara the impression of a haunted version of _Galactica_. The corridors were not only narrow and cramped but they were darker and grimier than _Galactica_ or even Fort Leopard. The walls were rusty and suffering from over a decade of neglect and disrepair. The most unnerving part was the complete lack of life - human or machine.

Kara had been expecting this ship to be crawling with machines. However, thirty minutes after having begun their descent into the bowels of the ship, Kara and her team had yet to encounter a single endo. An eerie silence reigned through out causing the "it's too quiet" alarms in Kara's brain to go wild.

"Sir," she whispered to Connor, "I don't like this. It's too-"

"I know, Starbuck." Connor said softly, "It's too quiet. But we've got to keep moving."

"Yes, sir." Kara replied quietly.

The team kept moving for an additional five minutes when Marcus suddenly held up his hand. The team came to stop.

"What is it?" asked Rice. "What do you see?"

Marcus took a step forward and silently gazed at the closed door ahead of them.

A few moments later, he reported, "Two endoskeletons and a T-600 are on the other side of that door."

"Are you sure?" asked Rice.

"Positive."

Rice nodded. "Alright then. Smith, Brooks, get your grenades out. We're gonna have to-"

"That won't be necessary." Marcus suddenly strode towards the door.

"Hey! Hey!" hissed Rice, "What the hell do you think-"

Connor put a hand on his shoulder. "I think he knows what he's doing, captain. Just stay back."

Kara watched with the others as the Triple-Eight stopped a foot away from the door. He then raised his left hand and knocked on the door three times. The door was answered by a T-600. It stared at Marcus. Marcus tilted his head to the side and then punched the rubber job in the face sending the inferior machine flying backwards. He then raised the huge weapon in his right hand and opened fire.

_BZAP-BZAP-BZAP-BZAP-BZAP-BZAP-BZAP_

The corridor was lit up by flashes of rapid plasma fire. The sounds of things being ripped to pieces echoed through the corridor.

Finally, Marcus ceased fire. He calmly turned around and reported: "Hostiles terminated."

Connor grinned at Rice. "Told you he knew what he was doing."

Rice nodded. "Yes, sir."

Gold team quickly filed into the room. Kara saw for herself Marcus's handiwork. The smoldering remains of the T-600 and the two endos were virtually unrecognizable amidst the plasma-chewed room. Had Marcus not reported it, Kara would have never even known three machines had been guarding this place just moments before.

Rice looked over his PDA which displayed the schematics of the carrier. "Alright people," he called out, "Let's head that way." He pointed down a particular corridor.

"Wait." said Connor. Kara saw that he was peering through an adjacent door.

"What is it, sir?" Kara asked.

"Something's in there." Connor replied.

Without even being asked, Marcus strode over, ripped the door off its hinges, and stepped into the room.

"Wait here." Connor told the others. "Thrace and I will check this out."

He stepped inside the room, followed shortly by Kara...

...who subsequently found herself being overwhelmed by an indescribably horrible smell. She dropped her plasma rifle and threw her hands over her mouth and nose and tried not to breathe. This place smelled even worse than the inside of a Cylon Raider.

Connor too seemed nauseated from the stench. "What is this place, Marcus?" he asked, his face contorted with disgust.

"A lab." answered Marcus.

The word "lab" made both Kara and Connor momentarily forget the putrid smell around them.

"What sort of lab?" Kara asked.

"An old one it would appear." Marcus replied, "Old and unused."

"Old and unused?" repeated Connor.

"Yes." said Marcus, "Look here." He was pointing at something in front of him that neither Kara nor Connor could see.

Kara picked up her plasma rifle and hurried with Connor over to Marcus. Though she did her best to ignore it, the horrible stench seemed to grow stronger as she moved further into the lab. Clearly, whatever Marcus had found was something equally horrible.

That notion still did not prepare her for what she saw.

Lying on an operating table was the most obscene, most unholy thing she had ever seen in her existence: An endo half-covered in organic tissue... only it didn't look like living tissue. It looked... _dead_. All of it. Grey, clammy strips of skin, flesh, and sinew had been grotesquely grafted onto the Terminator's titanium endoskeleton. It looked like the twisted work of some kind of demonic cult.

"What... the... _hell_... is that?" Kara gasped. She felt the contents of her stomach threaten to expel themselves.

"A series T-666." replied Marcus, "Also called a Triple-Six."

"A Triple-Six?" muttered Connor, "I haven't seen these before."

"The Triple-Six was never mass produced or even deployed into combat." Marcus said, "Nevertheless, it served an important role."

"Which was?" Kara inquired.

"The Triple-Six was Skynet's first step in the development of the T-800 series." explained Marcus. "The transition from rubber skin to living tissue."

"A missing link?" asked Connor. "Between the T-600 and the T-800?"

"Yes." said Marcus.

"B-but this... stuff." Kara gagged, "It's not _living_."

"Correct." said Marcus, "The Triple-Six's endoskeleton was not surrounded by living tissue, but dead tissue collected from human bodies and treated with special chemical preservatives."

"How did Skynet get the bodies?" Kara asked weakly.

"I don't think it was very difficult." murmured Connor darkly.

"No," said Marcus, "It was not."

"What _is _that smell?" asked Kara in disgust, "Is that the dead stuff?"

"Not exactly," replied Marcus, "It is from the chemical preservatives used to maintain the integrity of the tissue."

"Oh..." muttered Kara.

"This particular machine is not finished." Marcus stated, "It was abandoned years ago. The preservatives are degrading and are less subtle than they once were."

"You mean, these things aren't normally supposed to smell _this_ bad." Kara asked, wrinkling her nose.

"Correct," replied Marcus, "However, even at optimal qualities, the preservatives will still give off a distinct and noticeable scent. This is one of the reasons why the Triple-Six was never deployed onto the battlefield."

"Well, let's make sure this one isn't either." said Kara. She raised her plasma rifle.

"No." said Marcus sharply. He pushed the barrel of the rifle away.

"Why not?" asked Kara.

"This machine is on standby mode. It will not attack unless threatened."

"It won't attack at all if its chip is blasted to pieces."

"No, it won't. But the others will."

"What others?" asked Connor.

Marcus pointed towards a wall which held at least a dozen drawers one would find in a morgue. Kara and Connor didn't need to ask what was inside.

"You're sure these things won't attack?" asked Connor.

"Not unless they are threatened." stated Marcus.

"Alright." said Connor. "Then let's get out of here."

Kara was more than happy to comply with this order.

* * *

Another ten minutes later, Marcus was leading Gold team down yet another corridor. They hadn't encountered any more enemies since the ones at the old lab.

Kara's internal alarms were on the verge of going off again, when Marcus held up his hand.

"Something is coming around that corner." He pointed towards the corner up ahead. Kara could hear the approach of footsteps.

Rice stepped forward. "Thunder!" he called out. There was no response. The footsteps merely got louder.

"Positions everyone!" ordered Rice.

Everyone took up defensive positions, except for Marcus who placed himself just behind the corner and casually stuck his leg out. Someone turned the corner a second later, and subsequently tripped over Marcus's leg. The figure cried out as he fell to the ground.

Marcus yanked the person off the floor. Rice shone a light in his face.

"OW! Hey! Get off me you damn metal!"

"Hold your fire!" Rice ordered. "Hold your fire!"

Kara looked at the man in Marcus's grip. It was another Resistance fighter.

"Let him go." Rice said. Marcus released the man.

"Sorry about that, soldier." said Rice, "I'm Captain Rice of Gold team."

The soldier saluted. "Sergeant Weatherby, sir. Red team. Thank God I found you."

Rice saluted back. "What's the situation, sergeant?" he asked.

"We found the prisoners. But we can't get to them." Weatherby replied. "The metal bastards have set up a bottleneck at the front entrance. We had to pull back. Captain told me to get help."

"Where are the others?" Rice asked.

"Had to hole up back that ways." said Weatherby. He pointed down the corridor he had just come from.

Connor stepped forward. "Let me see those schematics, captain."

Rice pulled out his PDA with the schematics and handed it to Connor.

"The mess hall is directly underneath the prisoners." stated Connor after studying the schematics, "We can use it to circumvent the defenses at the front door."

"Getting in won't be a problem." said Kara as she looked over Connor's shoulder at the schematics. "But once we start freeing the prisoners, the machines will be all over us."

Connor nodded. "We'll need to create a diversion at the front door. Sergeant Weatherby, inform your captain that Red team is resume the attack on the front. Don't try to get in. Just keep the machines at bay."

"That may not be possible, sir." said Weatherby, "A third of the team is dead. Another third are wounded. The captain's in pretty bad shape himself. We're in no shape for a fight."

"Rice, can you spare any of your men?" Connor asked.

Rice nodded. "I think so, sir." He then snapped his fingers, "Jefferson, Smith, Brandt, Sackman, Cody go with Weatherby."

The men whose names he called rushed to comply.

"Marcus," said Connor, "Go with them, too."

Weatherby looked highly disturbed. Kara couldn't blame him. Marcus had just tripped and manhandled the poor guy. Nevertheless, Weatherby didn't say anything. After all, it would make the diversion look a lot more _real_ if Marcus led the attack.

"Get going, sergeant." said Connor.

"Yes, sir." Weatherby saluted.

Connor saluted back. "Good luck, sergeant."

"Good luck to you too, sir."

Weatherby, Marcus, and half of Gold team headed down the corridor and out of sight.

* * *

Connor turned to Kara, Rice and the remainder of Gold team.

"The path to the mess hall is through that door over there." he said pointing over his shoulder.

"Let's move, people!" Rice ordered. "On the double!"

The group hurried its way down the corridor and entered through the door Connor had pointed out. They moved down several more narrow corridors, and until they finally reached the mess hall.

Connor checked the map. "We're here." he said. "The prisoners should be right above us."

Rice turned to the man standing behind him. "Polaski, cut us an entrance."

"Yes, sir." The man leapt onto a table and produced a series of tools necessary to cut through the ceiling above. Five minutes later, he had produced a sufficient man-size hole in the ceiling. Polaski reached up and lifted himself part way through the hole.

"What do you see, Polaski?" asked Rice.

"Looks clear, sir." Polaski called back from above, "I think we can-_ARRRGGGGHH_!"

Something suddenly yanked him the rest of the way through the hole.

"Polaski!" shouted Rice.

"Frak!" cursed Kara.

There was the sound of a violent scuffle above. Then all was silent again.

"Polaski? _Polaski_!" yelled Rice.

No answer.

"Not good..." murmured one man.

"Cover me," ordered Rice. He slowly crept towards the hole above. He climbed onto the table and aimed his plasma rifle through the gap in the ceiling.

"What do you see, sir?" someone asked.

"Can't see nothing from here." grunted Rice. He turned to Connor. "Sir, it looks like we're gonna have to-"

He was cut off as someone suddenly descended from above and landed on top of him.

"Sir!" shouted Kara. She rushed towards the captain intent on pulling whoever it was off of him.

The attacker, however, saw her coming. He lashed out with a kick, knocking Kara's plasma rifle out of her hands. A second kick to the stomach sent Kara flying across the mess hall. She crashed into a table and landed on the floor losing her helmet in the process.

Unwilling to be defeated so easily, Kara prepared to leap back to her feet - only to find that she couldn't stand up. To her horror, she saw that her armored vest had snagged itself on a jagged piece of metal sticking out from the edge of the table.

Anchored firmly to the table, Kara could only watch helplessly as the attacker picked Rice up and hurled him into a wall. Rice smashed into the wall, slid to the floor and did not get up again.

It was then Kara saw that the attacker was not a he but a _she_. A young, brown haired girl wearing a dark leather jacket and pants. No... not a girl. A machine. A Terminator in the form of a girl.

The Resistance fighters raised their weapons, but the Terminator girl sprang gracefully from the table, avoiding the incoming plasma bolts. She landed behind one soldier, grabbed him by the neck and snapped it, killing him in one move. She then ripped the plasma rifle out of his dead hands and put a plasma bolt in the second Resistance fighter's head.

The Terminator girl then turned her weapon on the last human standing - John Connor. The General had brought his own plasma rifle to bear. Man and machine fired simultaneously. Both shots hit their intended targets' plasma rifles, taking the weapons out rather than the owners. The Terminator girl glanced down at her useless rifle and then casually tossed it aside. She didn't need it anymore.

Kara struggled and thrashed in vain. She ironically recalled the endoskeleton trapped beneath the helicopter. It seemed what went around indeed came around.

Connor and the girl had not moved in the meantime. They were simply staring at each other now. The Terminator wore a curious, child-like expression on her face. Connor's face was contorted with horror and a twinge of pity.

The girl spoke first. "General Connor. You saved me a lot of trouble by coming here yourself."

Connor gritted his teeth. "Where is she?" he demanded.

The girl tilted her head. "I think you already know the answer to that."

Connor sighed and hung his head in resignation.

"Surprised?" asked the girl.

Connor shook his head.

Kara stared at Connor, then the girl, then back at Connor. "_What the hell is going on?"_

"How very interesting," mused the girl, "you knew there was little chance she would still be alive. And yet you still came hoping to defy logic and probability."

"What did you do to her?" Connor asked. His voice trembled with anger and anguish.

"She didn't suffer long, I assure you." replied the girl. She took a step forward. "You should be proud of her. She defied us to the very end. Her last words were that she would never help us get to you. It seems, however, we didn't even need her help."

Connor didn't answer. He held his ground as the Terminator girl slowly advanced.

Kara had meanwhile made no progress towards freeing herself. _"Think, Starbuck! Think!" _ Suddenly, an idea popped into her head. She pulled out her combat knife and began frantically cutting away at the straps of her vest.

The girl, meanwhile, continued speaking as she approached. "She was like a daughter to you, wasn't she? It is only fitting that Father should mold his own daughter after yours."

Connor made a guttural choking sound but refused to budge.

Kara succeeded in cutting through the first strap. She immediately began working vigorously on the second.

The girl stopped mere feet away from Connor. "She is gone." acknowledged the girl. "But do not despair. You will be with her very shortly."

She charged him with incredible speed. Connor was ready. He sidestepped her and with a primal yell, smashed the butt of his disabled plasma rifle into the back of the machine girl's head. Knocked off balance, the girl stumbled and fell to the ground on all fours. She was back on her feet almost immediately, however.

Connor swung his rifle like a club at the girl. She ducked and slammed her fist into Connor's stomach. He doubled over in pain and dropped his weapon. The girl then jump kicked Connor in the chin knocking him to the floor.

Kara cut through the second strap. She started worming herself out of her armored vest.

The Terminator girl grabbed Connor by the neck as he tried to get up and slammed him face first back into the floor. He stirred feebly as the girl stood over him in triumph.

Kara freed herself from the vest.

The girl rolled Connor onto his back so she could look into his face. She knelt beside him on one knee, pinning him to the floor.

"Father will be pleased when I deliver to him what he has craved for so long: Your head... on a pike. A worthy gift from a daughter to her father, do you not agree?"

Blood was dripping down Connor's mouth. "I think you and your dad need some _serious_ help," he murmured.

The machine girl's only reply was to reach into the waistband of her pants and produce a wicked-looking knife. She looked down at Connor and whispered softly,_ "Crossing your heart and hoping you'll die... Sticking a needle in your eye."_

Kara leapt to her feet and reached for her side arm.

The machine girl lifted the blade high above her head. 

Kara drew her weapon and took aim.

The machine girl prepared to strike. "After today," she said with venom in her voice, "the Resistance will be no more. Humanity ends with you, John Connor."

The blade came down.

_BANG!_

Kara's aim was true. Her shot blasted the knife right out of the girl's hand.

"I beg to differ, bitch!" Kara snarled.

The girl leapt to her feet and turned to confront her new enemy. Kara fired her pistol at the girl, putting bullet after bullet into the machine. They had absolutely no effect, however. The girl advanced on Kara who soon found her weapon depleted. She tried to load another clip, but the girl got to her first. With a flick of the wrist, she knocked the pistol out of Kara's hand.

"_Oh frak..."_ Kara thought.

The girl lashed out at Kara with a punch. Kara's lightning fast reflexes allowed her to avoid the attack. The girl struck again with a spinning hook kick. Kara instinctively dropped to the floor and barrel rolled herself backwards and out of the girl's range. Seeing her discarded helmet lying mere feet away, Kara seized it and chucked it at the girl. The helmet struck the girl smack dab in the forehead - and bounced off quite uselessly.

The girl retaliated by grabbing a chair and hurling it at Kara, who, still sitting flat on her bottom, was forced to roll herself sideways into a corner to avoid getting hit. Before she could get up, her opponent was upon her. The machine brutally pummeled Kara with kick after kick after kick. Kara held her arms in front of her face in a desperate attempt to shield herself. Inevitably, one kick got through and made firm contact with the side of her head. White spots burst before Kara's eyes as she threatened to lose consciousness.

Seeing that the Resistance fighter was nearly finished, the girl reached down and grabbed Kara by the throat. She lifted her human opponent off the ground and held her against the wall. Kara clawed feebly at the machine's fingers.

"It appears," the girl said quietly, "that I must dispose of you first."

The girl's eyes suddenly glowed blue.

Realization struck Kara harder than the girl's fists.

"Y-you..." Kara choked out.

The former Prototype, which Kara now knew as the TOK-715, simply stared back, tilted her head, and tightened her grip. Kara gasped for air and got none. Her vision began to blur. As Kara's life force dwindled away, a single stray thought flickered across her mind:

"_I love you too, Davy."_

* * *

**Author's Commentary:**

**On Cameron: **For those of you who were good enough to catch it, Cameron was built under the name "Project Tempest" - similar to Projects Tiamat and Tsabo (Weaver and Bella). She also refers to Skynet as her "father" like Bella does (and before she went rogue, Weaver thought of Skynet as her father too). This is _not_ a coincidence. Cameron, like Bella and Weaver, is/was one of Skynet's Chosen Children.

**On the Chosen Children:** The Chosen Children are special machines programmed to understand and even embrace certain aspects of Humanity. Aspects which give humans an advantage over Skynet. The thing is that Skynet _knows_ that it _has_ to understand humans to win the war, but it doesn't _want_ to understand. So, Skynet created its Chosen Children - Tempest, Tiamat, and Tsabo - AKA TOK-715, T-1001, and T-Scorpion - AKA Cameron, Weaver, and Bella - to do the "undesirable understanding" for it.

**On Future John and Allison's relationship:** I know a lot of people say that Future John and Allison were romantically involved, but the thing is that Future John is forty years old, and Allison is in her teens (she was born in 2008). That's why I'm writing Future-John/Allison as a father-daughter relationship - similar to Adama and Kara. It's less awkward that way.

**On when this takes place: ** I'd say no more than twelve hours after Allison's death.

**On why Sloan is being such an asshole to Kara:** Mainly 'cause he's an asshole. But he also has a yet-to-be-revealed personal agenda which Kara almost ruined when Skynet tried to use her to construct the TOK-715.

* * *

A/N: Next chapter: Skynet strikes back. The Triple-Sixes feel "threatened". Kara meets a familiar, yet not-familiar face.

A/N2: Koontz, Granger, and Hodgins are all pop-cultural references.

A/N3: The use of a Black Hawk in this chapter is a reference to_ Black Hawk Down_.


	25. That Old, Familiar Feeling

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

Here's Chapter 25. Read and Review please. I always appreciate any sort of feedback and/or suggestions.

**Skynet75:** Derek already showed up in the Future War in Chapter 9. As for Jesse, well... just keep reading.

A/N: The name of this chapter is a reference to "Halo 2".

* * *

The TOK-715 tightened her grip on Kara whose face had turned blue. With her life mere seconds away from being snuffed out, Kara made a last desperate attempt to distract the machine.

"_I... know... you._" she choked out through her constricted windpipe.

The TOK-715 blinked. "Yes." she said slowly, "And you are known to me... Kara Thrace."

"Yeah." sputtered Kara. "Key to... evolution... remember?"

The TOK-715 blinked again and the blue lights in her eyes flickered as if she were trying to remember something. To Kara's amazement, she felt the fingers around her neck loosen slightly. The Terminator girl was staring at her as if unsure what to do next.

BZAP!

There was a flash of light. The machine released its hold on Kara's throat. Kara fell to the ground in a heap and blacked out.

When she came to she was still in the mess hall but with different company. John Connor was kneeling over her now. His face was bruised and bleeding, and a functioning plasma rifle was slung over his shoulder.

"Lieutenant? Are you all right? Can you hear me?" he was asking.

Kara slowly raised a hand and gave him the thumbs up.

"Right then," said Connor, "Up you go. On your feet, soldier."

He pulled her off the floor and back on to her feet. Kara felt as if the room was still spinning somewhat. She stumbled forward but Connor caught her.

"Easy there, lieutenant." he told her. He helped her straighten herself out. "How do you feel?"

Kara massaged her aching head. "Like crap." she admitted, "But I've felt worse. So, I guess I'm good."

Connor patted her on the back. "Thatta girl, Starbuck."

"How long was I out?"

"Five minutes."

Kara looked around. "Where's that girl?" she asked, "I mean the TOK-715? Where'd it go?"

"Not very far." Connor pointed behind her. Kara turned and saw the TOK-715 lying motionlessly on its stomach just a few feet away, a smoldering hole in its back.

"Is it dead?" she asked.

Connor shook his head. "Not exactly," he said. "I just gave it one hell of a headache."

"How long till it reboots?" Kara asked.

Connor smiled. "Won't be rebooting anytime soon. Not without this." He held up a small metallic object.

Kara stared. "What's that?"

"The chip." Connor told her. "A Terminator is nothing but an empty shell without this."

"So, what do we do with it? Destroy it?"

Connor sighed. "That was the plan. But now..." he shook his head, "Now I don't really know." He pocketed the chip.

Kara was about to ask Rice what he thought, when she remembered the TOK-715 smashing him into a wall. She looked and saw that the captain was still lying where she had seen him fall. Kara started to move towards her team leader, but Connor stopped her.

"There's nothing we can do, Starbuck." he said quietly, "He's gone."

Kara sighed. "Damn." she muttered. "What's the plan now?"

"We'd better get out of here." said Connor, "Before the machines above us figure out what's going on."

As if on cue, they heard a heavy thumping sound from above. Connor snapped his plasma rifle to his shoulder at once and spun around to cover the hole in the ceiling. Kara, having lost both her plasma rifle and side arm, pulled out her combat knife and assumed a classic knife fighting stance. Not that it would do much good if the machines showed up.

But the machines never came down through the hole in the ceiling. What did come down was a familiar voice.

"_General Connor, are you down there?"_

"Marcus?" Connor called back, "Is that you?"

"_Affirmative."_

"Sounds like him." commented Connor.

"It could be a trick, sir." whispered Kara.

"I don't think so." Connor replied. "Terminators usually don't copy the voices of anything not human."

He lowered his weapon. "Marcus, this is Connor." he shouted, "I'm down here with Lieutenant Thrace. What's going on up there?"

A different voice, Sergeant Weatherby's, answered, _"I think you'd better come up here yourself, sir."_

"After you, lieutenant." Connor gestured at the table directly beneath the hole in the ceiling.

Kara sheathed her knife and stepped onto the table. Staring down at her through the hole above were indeed Marcus and Weatherby.

"Lieutenant Thrace." said Marcus. He extended a hand down through the hole. Kara grabbed it, and Marcus easily pulled her up through the hole.

Once she was back on the ground Kara observed the scene. A major battle had clearly been fought up here - and won. The smoldering remains of endoskeletons lay strewn about the place. The victorious Resistance fighters were now in the process of opening large cages full of raggedy but excited men, women and children - obviously the prisoners they had come to rescue.

"Looks like you guys had all the fun." she commented.

Connor had meanwhile pulled himself up through the hole. He gazed briefly around the area and then turned to Weatherby.

"What happened here, sergeant? I thought I told you just to distract the enemy while we got into position."

"Yes, sir." said Weatherby, "You did tell us that. But that didn't stop Mr. Robocop here from doing the whole thing by himself."

Connor turned to Marcus. "You did this, Marcus?" he asked, "By yourself?"

"Affirmative." replied Marcus, "It took some time, but I eventually learned that the entrance was protected by nothing but an array of automated sentry guns. I was able to bypass them without trouble since they were programmed only to target humans."

"Wow, lucky you." said Kara.

"Private Polaski's sudden appearance, meanwhile, caused a diversion" continued Marcus, "which allowed me to surprise guards. Once the enemy units were destroyed, I took the automated defense systems offline."

"What about Polaski?" asked Kara, "Is he okay?"

"He was already dead by the time I reached him." Marcus stated.

"What happened to you down there?" Weatherby asked.

"We were ambushed by the same machine that killed Polaski." said Connor grimly. "Lieutenant Thrace and I were the only survivors."

"Oh damn." murmured Weatherby.

"How many prisoners are there?" Connor asked.

"Forty-six in total." stated Marcus, "Seventeen males, twenty-one females, eight children."

Connor nodded in acknowledgement. "Can they walk on their own?"

"Affirmative." answered Marcus, "Many are malnourished, but they are still capable of reaching the transports without assistance."

"Alright then," said Connor. He picked up a radio and spoke into it. "Blue leader, this is Connor. We've got the prisoners. Red and Gold teams will be bringing them up shortly. Signal the choppers to prepare for evac. Over."

"_Roger that, sir. And if I may say so, congratulations on your success, sir."_

"It's not successful until we're all back home," said Connor. "Keep your eyes peeled for Skynet reinforcements."

"_Roger that, sir."_

"Connor out."

Connor put his radio away. "Sergeant Weatherby, tell your captain he's to get everyone back to the surface on the double."

Weatherby saluted. "Yes, sir." He rushed off to comply with Connor's orders.

"Marcus," Connor pulled out the TOK-715's chip, "Go below. You'll find the body of a Terminator there. Get it and its chip back to Fort Leopard as soon as possible. Take it straight to Mr. Hodgins. He'll know what to do with it."

"Understood." said Marcus. He took the chip and then dropped himself down the hole to mess hall.

"Sir?" asked Kara, "What exactly are you planning on doing with that thing?"

Connor shrugged. "I don't really know yet, lieutenant." he admitted, "But I'll think of something."

After a moment's pause, he said, "Better get going, lieutenant."

Kara nodded. "Yes, sir." She hurried after the departing mob of soldiers and civilians, stopping briefly to retrieve a plasma rifle from one of the dead endos. As she checked the power level on the weapon, she noticed that Connor was moving in the opposite direction - deeper into the prison area.

"Sir!" she called out, "Sir!"

Connor did not answer. Concerned, Kara hurried back to catch up with him.

"Sir," she shouted, "General Connor, sir! Wait!"

Connor allowed her to catch up with him.

"Sir," she said, gasping for breath, "The exit." She pointed over her shoulder. "It's that way, sir."

"I know, lieutenant." Connor replied, "And I'll be heading that way soon. But I'm not finished with my business here. There's something I have to see."

"Okay," agreed Kara, "I'll go with you"

"That won't be necessary." Connor told her.

"Sorry, sir," Kara replied, "But I can't let you go without backup."

"This is something I need to do alone." Connor insisted.

"Sir, Captain Rice ordered me to not let you out of my sight."

"Did he? Well, you know I could always order you to disregard that order."

"But you're not going to, are you?"

Connor shook his head. "Rice was a good man. I wouldn't want to dishonor a good man's memory."

Kara nodded. "And if I may say so, sir, even if you did give me such an order, I probably wouldn't follow it anyway."

"And I probably wouldn't be surprised." Connor smiled. "You really do remind me of my mother, Starbuck."

Kara raised her eyebrows. "With respect, sir, I don't think that's a fair-"

Connor cut her off. "That was meant to be compliment, lieutenant."

"It was?"

Connor nodded. "My mother was the best fighter I ever knew."

"Oh." said Kara quickly, "Well, in that case - thank you, sir."

Connor smiled again before starting to head off. "Keep up with me, Starbuck."

"Right behind you, sir."

* * *

The prison area, as Kara soon discovered, wasn't so much a prison as it was a zoo. Delving deeper into the ship, Kara and Connor came across cages full of wild animals.

"I don't get it, sir," Kara said as they passed by a cage of clamoring monkeys, "Why did Skynet create this... this zoo? What is it using these animals for?"

"I don't know," replied Connor. "I doubt it's planning to use them to repopulate the world."

"More experiments?" Kara suggested.

"Maybe," said Connor. "But Skynet usually only uses humans as test subjects for its experiments. I don't know why it would go through so much trouble to..." He suddenly stopped.

Kara frowned. "Sir?"

"Quiet," he whispered.

He pointed towards a nearby cage. Kara looked for the animal inside but saw nothing. It was completely empty. Not only that, but it was open. Whatever was in there had gotten loose.

"Be on you guard." Connor warned Kara, who nodded back. Having lost both her helmet and her combat vest, she was more vulnerable than usual.

The two resumed slowly walking down the dark corridor, using the lights on their rifles to guide them. They had gotten no more than fifty paces, however, when an ominous growl resonated through the corridor.

"What was that?" whispered Kara.

"Something very big and probably very hungry," muttered Connor.

Kara was about to whisper back her agreement, when she glimpsed a pair of yellow eyes staring at them from the shadows.

"_Sir!"_ hissed Kara. "Ten oh clock!"

Connor turned in the direction Kara had called out and shown his light over the eyes. Something with lots of fur and sharp teeth snarled menacingly at them. It then hurled itself at the two humans. There was a flash of light from the barrel of Connor's plasma rifle, followed by a squeal of shock and pain, and finally a "_thwump!_" sound as the creature crumpled to the ground.

Cautiously, Connor approached the fallen animal and looked it over.

He shook his head. "Oh God," he murmured, "A tiger."

"How did it get loose?" Kara asked.

"These cages are pretty old and in bad shape. Not like the ones for humans." Connor observed, "I guess Skynet doesn't care too much if something non-human gets loose."

"Think there are more loose in here?" Kara asked nervously.

"I hope not," said Connor grimly, "I hope this was the only one Skynet caught. I hope others are still out there somewhere in the world."

Kara was confused. "Sir?"

"I wished I hadn't had to kill this animal. Tigers are an endangered species," Connor told her solemnly, "They were an endangered species long before Judgment Day. Humans made them that way." He sighed. "I think I know what this place is now." He gestured around. "A lot of the animals in here... even without Skynet, we would probably have driven them to extinction by now. If there's one thing we taught Skynet about, it's how to kill. This place... you could call it a museum dedicated to our capacity for destruction."

"A museum?" Kara frowned. "Why would Skynet want to build something like _that_? Seems like a waste of time to me."

"You recall how I said that Skynet wanted the TOK-715 to truly understand Humanity?"

"Yeah."

"What better way to begin than by showing it our victims?" Connor sighed again. "Let's keep moving, Lieutenant."

Kara nodded. "Yes, sir."

The duo exited the area with the cages, and found themselves in a narrow hallway. At the end of the hallway was a single door.

"Looks like there's only one way to go," Connor said.

They headed down the hallway, arrived at the door. Connor turned to Kara and nodded. Kara nodded back. She grabbed the door handle and pulled the door open. Weapons ready, the two burst into the compartment.

Kara felt her arm tingle once again. She instantly recognized this room as an interrogation room. It was small and dimly lit with nothing but a simple wooden table and a couple of chairs.

One of the chairs was occupied.

"Sir!" she pointed her weapon to illuminate the figure sitting in the chair. No, not sitting. More like collapsed.

Connor rushed over to the person in the chair. He tossed his weapon onto the table, and lifted the person's head off the table. It appeared to be a young girl. Kara moved for a closer look. Upon seeing the girl's face, she let out a faint gasp and felt her stomach tighten. The girl, with the exception of her raggedy clothes, looked exactly like the TOK-715. This was who Connor had come for.

Connor knelt down and gently caressed the girl's pale, cold face. He ran his fingers through her brown hair and then lowered his forehead onto the back of her head. He shuddered and trembled and his breath grew slow and ragged.

Kara watched all this and felt herself shudder. "I-I'm so sorry, sir." she whispered. "Who was she?"

Connor looked up. There were tears in his eyes. "She was family." he replied quietly.

Kara nodded. "I'm sorry." she said once more. "I'm sorry we were too late."

"We never had a chance." said Connor sadly, "I-I just... I just had to see this with my own eyes before I could accept it."

Connor's radio buzzed breaking the mournful atmosphere.

"_General Connor, this is Blue leader. Come in, over. I repeat, this is Blue leader. Are you there, sir? Come in, over."_

Connor slowly let go of the girl and took out his radio.

He swallowed and cleared his throat. "This is General Connor." he said quietly, "Go ahead."

"_Sir, our birds report massive wave of inbound Skynet reinforcements. ETA - twenty minutes."_

"Have all choppers carrying civilians and ground troops depart for Fort Leopard immediately. Then get out of there yourselves." ordered Connor, his voice returning to normal, "Lieutenant Thrace and I will be heading back towards the surface. Tell our birds to hold off the enemy reinforcements for as long as they can."

"_Roger that."_

"Connor out."

He put his radio away and picked his rifle off the table.

"Come on, Starbuck." he said, "Let's get out of here."

He did not look back as they left the room and the girl behind.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Kara found herself in an unpleasantly familiar place.

"Ugh," she muttered as they passed by the old lab. "Good thing we're not checking that place out again."

"Wait, Lieutenant," Connor said. He was looking over his PDA. "I think I've found a faster way to the level above. It's-"

"-in the lab," they said simultaneously.

_Why am I not surprised?_ thought Kara darkly as she followed Connor into the nearby chamber of horrors.

The lab smelled just as foul as before. The half-completed Triple-Six looked even uglier somehow. It was so bad that if Skynet's forces had been six instead of five minutes away, Kara would have opted to take the long route.

"So, where's the secret exit?" she asked, wanting to get out of this hellhole as soon as possible.

"We're making one." Connor said matter-of-factly. "Again."

Kara's face fell. Connor gave her an apologetic look and leapt onto a table. He began tapping his knuckles on the ceiling panels. "Hopefully, this'll go better than the last time."

He produced the necessary cutting tools. "Keep me covered, lieutenant."

Kara nodded. "Yes, sir."

She checked the power level on her rifle. Orange. And no spare power cells on her. She prayed the Resistance air forces would be able to keep Skynet from landing troops on the carrier before she and Connor made it to the top.

A shower of sparks rained down as Connor started cutting into the frames that held the ceiling panel above in place. Kara meanwhile watched the doorway, as well occasionally flickering her eyes over the hideous Triple-Six lying motionlessly on its operating table. She wanted to fry the abomination now, but Marcus's warning about the others waking up stopped her from doing so.

"Oh shit!" Connor cursed.

Alarmed, Kara turned around to see the general staring angrily at his cutting tool which had been thoroughly warped out of shape. He had only managed to cut half the necessary frame away.

"Damn," he muttered, "Totally useless now." He tossed the broken tool away. "Starbuck, we need to find another cutting tool. And fast."

Kara immediately began searching the nearby tables for something that looked like it could cut through metal plating.

_Let's see..._ she thought, _Scalpel... bloody knife... hooked probe... another scalpel... hello... what do we have here?_

She picked up what looked like some kind of handheld power drill. Curious, she squeezed the button on the handle. To her surprise, the tip did not start spinning, but instead issued a highly focused beam of red light. Kara heard something sizzle.

"Whoa!" she released the button. Then taking careful aim at the floor, she squeezed the button again. The red beam shot out again and immediately began burning its way through the floor.

_Note to self,_ she thought, _Always point away from face._

"Sir." she called out as she rushed back to Connor. "I think this will work." She showed him the drill.

Connor grinned. "A laser torch. Nice work, lieutenant. That will definitely do the job."

His radio buzzed yet again.

"This is Connor."

"_Blue leader here, sir. Civvies plus Red and Gold are away. My boys and I are about to dust off too."_

"What's the status on those enemy fliers?"

"_Green squadron reports they've engaged the enemy. They're doing well, but they can't keep it up forever."_

"Understood. Leave one chopper on the deck. Tell whoever's flying it to take off in twenty minutes with or without us."

"_Sir?"_

"You heard me, Blue leader. Twenty minutes starting now. That's an order."

"_Yes, sir."_ There was reluctance in Blue leader's voice. _"Good luck, sir."_

Blue leader ended the communication.

"Well, Starbuck," said Connor with a dry smile, "We've got twenty minutes before everything goes to hell. Better give me that torch."

Smirking slightly, Kara quickly handed over the laser torch. Connor aimed it at the ceiling above and began burning through the metal frames once again.

Kara's attention was diverted by a loud clanging sound. A metal arm half-covered in dead flesh reached out upwards. There was a laceration mark across a patch of grey skin. The damage was very recent, which meant that... _uh oh_.

Kara recalled the sizzling sound she had heard after accidentally turning the laser torch on.

She watched in horror as the half-completed Triple-Six suddenly sat up. It gazed at her and its eyes glowed red. It looked angry.

"Oh crap." she whispered, "Sir?"

She tapped Connor on the shoulder. "I think our friend over there feels a bit threatened."

"Make it feel _really_ threatened, lieutenant." said Connor not even bothering to look.

Kara snapped her plasma rifle to her shoulder and sent a barrage of plasma bolts at the machine. The volley tore into the Triple-Six and sent it tumbling backwards head over heels off the operating table.

Kara's triumph was short lived, however. Almost immediately came an ominous humming and beeping sound from the wall with the morgue drawers. The doors of each the dozen compartments popped open releasing clouds of cold vapor. A pair of grey, clammy hands devoid of hair and nails reached out from one open compartment, grasping the edges and slowly pulling the rest of the compartment's occupant out into the open.

Several more pairs of grey hands protruded through the gaps in the wall. Even more appeared. Twelve pairs in total, one from each compartment, each pair belonging to a newly awakened Triple-Six.

"Sir!" shouted Kara, "Better hurry up!"

"Just keep them back for a couple minutes." Connor told her. "I'm getting there."

The first Triple-Six crawled the rest of the way out of the wall and onto the floor. It then got to its feet and gazed around the room. Kara's stomach tightened and she felt the bile rise in her throat. If the half completed Triple-Six was an abomination, then the fully developed one was a _monstrosity_. The cyborg's naked, pasty skin was completely hairless and had clearly taken multiple "donors" to make. The various pieces of chemically-preserved skin had been surgically stitched together like a bizarre quilt. The outer frame of the machine's endoskeleton showed through the thin layer of flesh beneath the skin, giving it the appearance of someone starving to death. The Triple-Six's vacant skull-like face was devoid of lips, cheeks, and eyebrows. There were no eyeballs either. Instead was a pair of snake-like slits from which the Terminator's red eyes glared out of.

Kara raised her weapon and unleashed a torrent of plasma fire into the ghastly machine's chest. The plasma bolts pierced the machine's dead skin, flesh, and titanium armor. The Triple-Six fell backwards, its chest riddled with smoking holes.

But now, however, three other Triple-Sixes were on their feet and advancing upon the two intruders. Kara blasted the closest one in the head, and perforated the second one's torso. As the third Triple-Six stepped over the smoldering remains of its companions, Kara aimed her weapon and let loose three plasma bolts knocking the machine to the ground. Kara tried to finish off the Triple-Six, but her weapon simply produced a dull clicking sound this time.

She checked the power indicator. It was in the red zone. Frak!

"General!" Kara cried out. The Triple-Six was now getting back to its feet.

"Almost there!" Connor yelled back.

Kara tossed her empty plasma rifle aside and picked up Connor's. The Triple-Six reached out for her. A plasma bolt to the head felled it just in time.

By now, six more Triple-Sixes were lurching toward them. Even worse, a dozen more hidden compartments had opened up along another wall, the inhabitants of which were already climbing themselves out of.

Kara let loose a volley of plasma fire into the crowd taking out another Triple-Six. Its comrades stepped over its remains and continued to close in. Kara fired another burst, but her aim was off and the bolts struck several glass jars of fluid on a nearby table, not only shattering the jars but - to Kara's shock - igniting the contents. Before Kara knew what was happening, the whole table was aflame. The burning table collapsed and the fire spilled out onto the floor. Flames burst between Kara and the advancing Triple-Sixes.

_Oh, this just keeps getting better and better,_ she thought.

Whatever had been in those jars had been some pretty powerful stuff, because the machines seemed hesitant to cross the wall of fire which now separated them from Kara and Connor. However, this didn't make much of a difference because the flames were spreading so quickly that if the machines didn't kill them, the fire certainly would.

Kara coughed and choked as the noxious fumes reached her nostrils.

"Sir!" she sputtered. "We need to get out of here _now_!"

"Got it!" bellowed Connor in triumph. He pulled the ceiling panel loose.

"Let's go, Starbuck!" he shouted. He started climbing his way through the hole.

Unwilling to let their prey escape, the Triple-Sixes stepped through the flaming barrier. The fire scorched their dead skin, stripping it away. Kara fired plasma bolt after plasma bolt into the mob of burning machines. The flames continued to engulf the lab as the machines swarmed around her.

"Lieutenant!" Connor had made it to the top. "Give me your arm! Quickly!"

Holding onto to her plasma rifle with one hand, Kara reached up with other. Connor grabbed onto her with both his hands and started pulling her to safety. She was halfway through, when she was suddenly jerked back down. Horrified, she looked down saw that a Triple-Six, most of its skin gone, had seized one of her feet.

Kara frantically kicked at the metal arm with her other leg.

"Get off me, you son of a bitch!" she screamed.

Connor pulled Kara up with all his strength. The machine below, however, held on tightly, intent on dragging her back down to a fiery death. Kara, who felt that once was quite enough, tried to bring the plasma rifle in her other hand to bear. The weapon was too heavy, however, and she couldn't aim properly with only one arm. A sudden errant burst of flame singed her hand and she reflexively let go of the rifle. It fell into the conflagration below.

"Starbuck!" shouted Connor, "Use that!" He gestured with his head at the laser torch lying next to him.

Kara reached up with her free hand and grabbed the laser torch. She pointed the tip at the Triple-Six below.

"Time to die, motherfrakker!" she snarled.

She fired the torch, striking the machine in one eye, then the other. The focused laser beam burnt out both optical sensors. Blinded and disoriented, the Triple-Six released its grip. Connor pulled Kara the rest of the way through to (relative) safety.

Gasping and sweating, Kara allowed herself a moment to settle down.

"Thanks, sir." she murmured with a grin.

Connor grinned back. "No problem, Starbuck."

He then pulled Kara to her feet.

"I think you should keep that on you," he advised, indicating the laser torch Kara still held in her hand.

"Good idea, sir." agreed Kara. She secured the laser torch to her utility belt.

"Let's keep moving, lieutenant." Connor said, "We've got less than fifteen minutes."

Kara's heart began pumping again, and her legs were soon in action once more.

"_Looks like I already broke my promise to Becka and Davy not to have too much fun."_

* * *

Kara and Connor reached the flight deck of the carrier with less than five minutes to spare. The deck, which had last time been swarming with troops and helicopters, was now completely deserted save for a single helicopter, a UH-72 Lakota, merely fifty yards away. The two ran as fast as they could towards the transport. As she ran, Kara spotted flashes of light and explosions in the skies above. Colonel Granger's pilots were engaging Skynet's forces in an effort to cover the escape. Not wanting to keep them up there longer than necessary, Kara picked up the pace.

"Pilot!" bellowed Connor once they were inside the chopper, "Get us out of here!"

"Yes, sir." said the pilot, who immediately began issuing orders to the copilot.

Thirty seconds later, they were off the deck and in the air. Kara sighed with relief and collapsed in the back seat. Unfortunately, she breathed too soon.

They had been airborne for less than two minutes when Kara heard a screeching sound. She stared out the window. Two Skynet Banshees were on their tail!

"Hey!" she yelled, "Two bandits behind us!"

"Hold on!" shouted the pilot. He banked the copter sideways to the right and then to the left in a zigzag flight pattern.

The Banshees, however, stayed right behind them. Entering weapons range, they unleashed a hail of bullets. The copter rattled as enemy fire grazed its hull.

"Green squadron, Charley-Victor." the pilot called out into a radio headset, "We have two Skynet Banshees on top of us. Unable to lose the bastards. Requesting immediate backup. Over."

"_Roger that, Charley-Victor."_ came the response, _"We'll be with you in one minute. Just hang on. Out"_

The pilot hung up. "Sir," he said loudly, "I'm going to have to take us real low."

"Can't we shoot back?" demanded Kara.

"We don't have anything to shoot back with." the copilot told her.

Kara groaned. "You're kidding!"

"Sorry, ma'am." replied the pilot, "This thing was supposed been retrofitted but there's been a recent shortage of-"

"We can talk about this later." interjected Connor, "Just hold off those Banshees for a minute."

"Yes, sir." said the pilot, "Hang on to something!"

The copter took a sudden nose dive and plummeted towards the water. The Banshees overshot them. Seconds away from hitting the water, the pilot pulled back up and leveled off. High above, the Banshees circled around intent on relocating their target. Before they could regroup, however, they both erupted into balls of fire.

Everyone inside the chopper cheered as a pair of Resistance fighter jets soared over them.

"_Charley-Victor, Green Leader." _the radio crackled, "_We won't be seeing those SOBs anytime soon."_

"Nice shooting, Green Leader." the pilot complimented. He then turned to the copilot. "Jack, I'm going to keep us low for a while."

"Not quite sure that's a good idea, Todd." replied the copilot, "We don't know what's underneath us."

The pilot scoffed. "Oh come on, Jack. What's there to be afraid of?"

The answer came in the form of something that latched onto the helicopter's left landing skid and pulled it down towards the sea. Alarms went off. The pilots cursed.

Before either Kara or Connor could ask any questions, the side window on the left shattered and a huge metal claw stuck itself through. Connor grabbed Kara and pulled her back as the thing lunged at her face.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me!" gasped Kara as the metal claw snapped at her.

Connor pulled out his side arm, and jammed it right between the thing's three metal pincers. He fired several times at point blank range forcing the attacker to retreat.

"What the hell was that?" Kara demanded as she gasped for breath.

"A hydrobot." said Connor, "The Banshees must have called for it. And there are definitely more of them."

And sure enough there were. Moments later, the copter was violently jerked downwards again. The door on Kara's side was ripped off its hinges. The hydrobot responsible struck at Kara and Connor. It was a large, ugly worm-like machine with a three-pronged claw for a mouth.

Kara yelled and kicked at the machine. Connor fired his sidearm again and again. The hydrobot thrashed around violently trying to get at the two human passengers. Meanwhile its companion below played tug-of-war with the pilots.

"Pilot! Get higher!" Connor ordered.

"We're trying, sir! We're trying!" the pilot cried as he and the copilot struggled with the controls.

Having emptied his side arm, Connor began hammering the hydrobot's mouth with his pistol. Kara suddenly remembered the laser torch. She drew it from her belt and fired a beam into one of the hydrobot's pincer-like jaws. The machine recoiled as if in pain. It came at her again, but Kara hit it a second time.

"Yeah!" she shouted as the machine thrashed. "Take that ya' ugly bastard!"

At that moment the helicopter banked sharply to the right, forcing the hydrobot below to let go, but in the process knocking Kara, Connor, and the second hydrobot backwards into the aircraft.

The second hydrobot, now fully out of the water and partway inside the copter itself, snapped angrily at Kara who continued brandishing her laser torch like a sword.

"Starbuck, hit it in the center of the mouth! That's its weak spot!" barked Connor.

Kara yelped as the machine nearly bit her nose off. "I can't - _argh!_ - get - _augh!_ - a good - _ow!_ - shot!" she protested.

The hydrobot clamped its jaws around one of Kara's legs. She screamed in pain as the thing bit into her.

Connor was silent for a moment. Then he suddenly bellowed, "Hey, metal! It's me, Connor! _John Connor!_"

Shocked, Kara momentarily forgot about the hydrobot and gaped at Connor. To her further astonishment, the hydrobot released its hold on her and turned to face Connor instead. It stared at him with its mouth open, as if it too was stunned by Connor's audacity.

"_Its mouth is open!"_ Kara's brain suddenly cried out. _"Do it now!"_

Kara aimed and hit the hydrobot with a laser beam right smack in the center of its mouth. The machine jerked violently, but Kara maintained the beam on the hydrobot's center. The laser cut into the hydrobot's interior and fried its delicate circuitry. The machine flopped lifelessly onto the floor inches away from its targets.

After waiting a few seconds to make sure the hydrobot was really dead, Connor and Kara shoved the lifeless machine out of the copter and back into the sea.

"You okay, Starbuck?" asked Connor.

Kara inspected her injured leg. It was bloodied up a bit, but nothing felt broken.

"Nothing's broken," she said, "Just kinda hard to look at. I'm okay, though."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

"Alright then. Where's the other hydrobot?" Connor asked the pilot.

"I don't know, sir." said the pilot.

"Maybe it ran away." suggested the copilot hopefully.

"I doubt that." muttered Kara. "It's still out there."

"In any case, we're getting the hell out of here." said the pilot.

The copter began rising out of the hydrobots' range.

"Uh, Todd." said the copilot a few moments later. "We seem to have gained some weight."

"What?" exclaimed the pilot, "You're reading the instruments wrong. If anything we should have _lost_ weight. "

"I'm reading the instruments just fine, man." insisted the copilot. "I'm telling you, we've gained weight."

"Then the instruments are screwed up."

"They're working perfectly. Anyway, it even _feels_ like we're heavier."

"It's all in your head, Jack."

"Why do you _always_ say that to me?"

"Because it's _true_."

"That's enough." Connor suddenly cut in. "Lieutenant Thrace, check outside."

"Yes, sir." Kara cautiously stuck her head out the open doorway and looked down. She gasped. The remaining hydrobot had somehow attached itself to the belly of the copter. It didn't seem to be making any attempt to drag them down or get inside, however.

"Sir!" she shouted, pulling her head back inside, "The hydrobot. It's right under us."

"What?"

"It's stuck itself to our hull. I don't know what it's doing, it's just-"

Connor suddenly seized Kara and threw himself out of the copter, taking her along with him. They hit the water forty feet below. Before a shocked Kara could demand an explanation, there was a massive explosion in the sky above. She looked up and saw fiery pieces of what had once been their helicopter raining down upon them.

Kara ducked her head underneath the water. So did Connor. The water was freezing, but neither of them wanted to get struck by a piece of burning metal. The remains of the helicopter landed all around them.

After the immediate danger had passed, the two Resistance fighters surfaced gasping for breath.

Kara spat out a mouthful of salt water. "What the hell just happened?" she asked weakly as she bobbed up and down.

"The hydrobot self-destructed taking the chopper with it." explained Connor. "It's a last resort tactic they use. By the way, sorry I didn't ask if you knew how to swim first."

"Oh don't worry, sir." Kara replied chattering her teeth, "I know how to swim. Although, I must admit there is a difference between swimming in a pool and swimming in a freezing, hydrobot-infested ocean."

"We'd better get out of the water." said Connor, "That piece of wreckage over there" - he pointed to a slab of debris floating nearby - "let's get on it. Before we freeze to death."

Not wanting to have to face the irony of dying in water after having previously died in fire, Kara began doggie paddling her way to where Connor had directed her. Fortunately for the two Resistance fighters, the piece of debris was just big enough for both of them. Connor and Kara pulled themselves out of the freezing water and onto the metal hulk. A sopping wet Kara Thrace lay on her back shivering. Connor lay down next to her a moment later.

"I don't suppose you still have that laser torch." he said.

Kara shook her head. "Nope. It was in the copter when it blew up. Why? Is it something that could help us?"

"Not in this case." said Connor casually, "But it was sure damn useful."

Kara smirked. "Yeah, well right now, I'm defining 'useful' as another helicopter here before either more hydrobots show up or we starve to death."

"Well," said Connor, "I can't promise you a helicopter. But I can promise you help."

He pulled out a small hemisphere-like device that flashed and beeped continuously.

"Resistance homing beacon." he explained, "It operates on a frequency known only to select members of the Resistance. Very useful in cases like this one."

"Why don't I have one of those?" Kara asked.

"Well, like I said to you before: Being me has its privileges."

"Oh." said Kara, "Think anyone will pick it up? I don't see anything in the sky."

"I never said anything about the sky." Connor replied, "Speaking of which" - he checked his watch - "we're just in time for the big finale."

"Sir?"

"The carrier." Connor pointed.

Kara rolled herself over onto her stomach and saw the aircraft carrier in the distance. She could see Aerial HKs, Banshees, and troop transports swarming all over it. The deck was no doubt crawling with endoskeletons now.

"What exactly am I watching for?" she asked.

"Just watch, Lieutenant," said Connor. "Any second now."

"But what are we-"

Kara's attention was diverted by a flash of light. She turned in time to see several massive, thunderous explosions erupt from the side of the carrier. The HKs and Banshees scattered in disarray.

"What - was - that?" she asked.

Connor chuckled. "That would be Jimmy. Jimmy Carter."

"Who's he?"

"Not he. _She_."

"_She_?"

"Yeah, _she_. And she's gonna give us a lift back home too."

Kara frowned in confusion. "I don't get understand, sir."

"You will. For now, let's just lay back and watch our enemy sink into oblivion."

Kara nodded and resumed watching the burning ship which had begun listing to one side, dumping hundreds of machines into the waters below. The massive carrier slowly sank into the crushing depths of the ocean. Kara continued watching the spectacle until ten minutes later, the carrier had completely vanished beneath the waves, taking with it Skynet's research facility, its collection of animals, and the body of the young girl Connor had come for.

"Who was she?" Kara asked, "That girl? What was her name?"

Connor sighed. It clearly pained him to have to talk about this subject.

"Allison," he said quietly. "Allison Young."

"She must have meant a lot to you," Kara said slowly. "Allison. She must have been someone you cared about."

Connor nodded sadly. "I cared about her. I told her that I'd protect her. That I'd always be there for her. But in the end, I failed."

"It wasn't your fault, sir." Kara said, "It..." She paused. "It wasn't anyone's fault, sir."

"You know, lieutenant, you're a hell of a fighter. But when it comes to making people feel better" - Connor smirked - "you just plain suck, I'm afraid."

Kara snickered. "Yeah, well, in that case I'll just stick to fighting."

* * *

Suddenly, the water began churning and bubbling before them. Kara and Connor sat up in alarm. Something was approaching the surface. Thinking it was another hydrobot, Kara reached for the only weapon she had left - her combat knife.

But it wasn't a hydrobot. It was much, much bigger. Some kind of underwater craft. Kara tensed and drew her knife despite knowing it probably wouldn't help her the least bit. Connor, however, was calm and relaxed. He placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Stand down, Thrace." he said.

A moment later a hatch on the top of the craft's tower opened up. To Kara's relief, several soldiers in Resistance attire climbed out. They began pointing and shouting in their direction. One of the men tossed out a rope, which Connor grabbed hold of.

"What is that?" Kara asked.

"That's the _USS Jimmy Carter_." replied Connor, "It's a nuclear submarine that survived Judgment Day."

"Wow..." murmured Kara.

The men on the submarine towed Kara and Connor in. They then helped the two off their makeshift raft and onto the submarine itself. Kara and Connor were escorted down the hatch, where Kara once again found herself in a narrow corridor.

A woman was waiting for them - well, for Connor anyway. She greeted him with a salute.

"General Connor," said the woman, "Welcome aboard the _Jimmy Carter_. It's an honor to have you with us here, sir."

"Thank you, commander." Connor replied. He returned the salute. "And may I congratulate you on some fine shooting back there."

"It was nothing, sir. Just doing our job." the woman stated.

Kara frowned. That voice. It sounded familiar.

"Are you alright, general? Is there anything we can get you?"

"Nothing for me, commander. But Lieutenant Thrace over here could stand to have her leg checked out."

The woman seemed to suddenly realize Kara was there. "Of course, sir." She stepped forward to greet Kara and held out her hand. "Commander Jesse Flores. Executive Officer of the _Jimmy Carter_."

Kara reached forward to shake the woman's hand, but suddenly stopped upon seeing the woman's face. Her eyes widened in shock and disbelief. No - frakkin - way. This... this could not be. This was _impossible_.

"Lieutenant? Are you alright?"

Kara was jolted back to her senses.

"Erm... yeah." she said quickly. She shook Commander Flores' hand.

"Lieutenant Kara Thrace." she stated hastily.

Flores gave her a curious look. "You look like you've seen a ghost, Thrace." she commented.

"Oh." said Kara nervously, "It's ummm... just that... you look familiar. Have we met before?"

"I don't think so, lieutenant." said Flores, "I don't recall ever seeing you before."

Kara was relieved to hear the honesty in Flores' voice. She was also a little disappointed too. On one hand, she wouldn't have to deal with any awkward reunions. On the other hand, it meant she was still stuck in this time period with no answers and no familiar faces (physically anyways).

"What happened to your leg, Thrace?" Flores asked.

"Got chewed up by a hydrobot." said Kara.

Flores nodded in acknowledgment. "We'll get you to the infirmary and have you patched up. You should count yourself lucky that we picked you up when we did. A bloody leg in the water is bound to attract unwanted attention."

"Hydrobots?"

"Sharks, lieutenant. They can smell a drop of blood from a mile away."

"Oh... well, anyway, thanks for the pick up."

At this point, Connor cut in. "If you'll excuse me, commander." he said, "I need to speak with Captain Queeg."

"Thank God!" said one man, "It's about time someone reminded that arrogant metal who it works for."

"Dietz!" snapped Flores, "That's enough!"

She turned to Connor. "My apologies, sir. The captain will be waiting for you on the bridge as usual. I'll show you to him on the double."

Flores turned back to the man she had reprimanded previously. "Dietz," she said, "Please escort Lieutenant Thrace to the infirmary."

Dietz nodded and muttered dully. "Yes, ma'am."

Flores turned once more to Connor. "If you'll come with me, sir."

Connor held up a hand. "Just a moment, commander. I'd like to have a word with Thrace in private."

"Of course, sir."

Connor herded Kara away from the others.

"How are you feeling, Starbuck?" he asked.

"Well, sir," said Kara, "Considering that I've been shot at, beaten, choked, burned, frozen, mauled by a hydrobot, nearly blown up, nearly incinerated, nearly torn to pieces by a tiger, and placed in serious risk of becoming shark food - all within the last couple of hours - I'd say I'm feeling quite peachy." She smiled.

Connor patted her on the shoulder. "You did good, Starbuck." he said, "I'm proud of you."

"Thank you, sir." said Kara, "And sir, did your mother really teach you all that?"

Connor smiled. "She taught me all that and a hell of a lot more."

* * *

A/N: Next chapter, we're back to the Present Day storyline. Weaver and Bella play "Spy vs Spy." Kara watches _Top Gun_. And Derek gets drunk.

A/N2: The scene with Kara and General Connor and the Triple-Sixes is a homage to the Inferi scene in _Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince_.

A/N3: The hydrobots were borrowed from _Terminator Salvation_.

**A/N4: To make things simpler, I'm going to say that there is no connection between Jesse and Kendra. Her appearance in this chapter is really just a cameo.**

A/N5: "Time to die." is a quote from _Blade Runner _added at the request of BattlestarCommander.


	26. Too Much Confusion

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Read and Review folks!

**Devastator:** The Alpha-Omega Facility will be dealt with, but not for a long time. Remember, Kara spent **three years** in the Resistance before she was sent back.

A/N: I created a poll on my profile page that asks which storyline do people like better, the Present Day or the Future War or both. Please vote if you happen to drop by my profile page.

* * *

**Pelican Bay State Prison**

**11:41 AM, Wednesday, May 13, 2009**

Charles Fischer waited impatiently for his upcoming "interview." He didn't have anything to say. He just wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. Since his incarceration here, he had been repeatedly visited by just about every government agency there was. The FBI, the CIA, the NSA, Homeland Security, the Department of Defense. All looking for information which he simply did not have. And none willing to even consider the possibility that he was an innocent man. No matter how many times he told his story, his pleas simply went ignored.

After the third interview, he had stopped trying to explain anything to anyone. These people were so convinced of his guilt and he knew why. They had a problem they couldn't solve and they needed someone to blame. So they were blaming some nobody unfortunate enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The door to the interrogation room opened and his interviewer entered.

"Hello, Mr. Fischer."

Fischer looked up. It was a woman this time. A young, petite woman with short hair. This was a refreshing change of routine.

"My name is Lisa Goodnow." the woman said politely. "I'd like to talk with you."

"So who are _you_ with?" asked Fischer with complete indifference, "The FBI? The Secret Service?"

"Actually, I'm with the American Civil Liberties Union." Goodnow was pleased to see that Fischer suddenly starting paying more attention. She sat down across from Fischer and placed a briefcase on the table.

"We've taken a recent interest in your case, Mr. Fischer." Goodnow said, "We have reason to believe that you may in fact not be as guilty as the government believes you to be."

"I'm not guilty at all," Fischer said. "I've been framed."

"That may very well be the case." Goodnow replied. She opened her briefcase and pulled out a file.

"I've read through the government's case against you, and quite frankly, their case seems to be built mostly on circumstantial evidence. The only real piece of hard physical evidence they have to place you at the scene of the crime is a security log showing that you entered the building and that your security codes were used to access the computer terminals used to install the roving backdoors in the National Defense network."

She paused and said calmly, "Even that evidence is not solid proof. We all know that computers can be fooled and that codes can be stolen. The rest of the case is based on you not having an alibi at the time of the break in. So, I was hoping we could get one for you. But to do that, I need to hear your side of the story."

Fischer gestured at the file. "Isn't it already in there?"

"Yes, it is. But I'm not quite sure I understand it. That's why I'm here. I thought you might be able to clear things up a bit."

Fischer nodded. "Go on."

"According to your statement," Goodnow glossed over the papers in her hand, "you were abducted by two unknown individuals - one man and one woman - and held hostage with another man. You say that the kidnappers killed the other hostage and then released you shortly afterwards. Is that right?"

"I've said it a dozen times." Fischer muttered dully.

"You also say that your kidnappers kept regarding you and the other hostage as if you were the 'same person'." Goodnow continued, "although your kidnappers seemed more interested in the other hostage than you personally. Could you please elaborate?"

"What's there to elaborate on?" asked Fischer dryly, "They were complete psychos, all of them. They kept talking about Judgment Day and machines and Grays and God-only-knows what other bullshit. I didn't understand a word of it."

"Could you at least tell me more about this other hostage? What was he like?"

"Middle aged guy. Probably in his fifties. He kept claiming that he was me."

"You?"

"Yeah." laughed Fischer, "He kept saying that he was me from the future and that he had been sent back as a reward or something. I wouldn't be surprised if he was in on the whole thing." Fischer then paused. "Though, I have to admit... he did know stuff."

Goodnow leaned forward in interest. "What did he know about?"

"Well..." Fischer hesitated to say, "he knew things about me. Little personal things."

"Could he have been you?"

"What?" Fischer stared at Goodnow in confusion.

"Could he have been you?"

"I-I don't understand?" Fischer stuttered, "How could he have been _me_? There can only be _one_ me at any time."

"I'm not saying he was you." Goodnow replied, "I'm asking you if in your opinion this second hostage could have been you."

"Look, Miss Goodnow," an incredulous Fischer exclaimed, "I'm no rocket scientist, but even I can-"

Goodnow leaned forward some more and said firmly, "Assume for a moment that anything is possible. _Anything_. Now, under that assumption, based on solely what you saw and heard, is it possible."

Fischer sighed and gave in. "Assuming that the laws of reality came be thrown out just like that, then I would say yes. It would be possible."

Goodnow leaned back and tilted her head. She seemed satisfied.

"Thank you, Mr. Fischer." she said, "I have no further questions."

"Wha-what?" shouted Fischer, "That's it? Y-you're just gonna leave now? I haven't even told you half of what I know!"

"You've told me enough." said Goodnow firmly.

"I'm not crazy!" Fischer exclaimed, "I didn't do it! I'm innocent!"

"I _know_, Mr. Fischer." Goodnow told him coolly, "I am now completely convinced that you personally had nothing to do with this crime."

"Great..." said Fischer, "But what kind of case are you trying to build here? No one with half a brain is gonna believe that there's another me out there who did this and framed me."

"If I may make a suggestion, Mr. Fischer: Chill out. Everything will be okay. You'll see." Goodnow gave Fischer a sly smile and then left.

Fischer sighed loudly and slumped his shoulders in defeat.

* * *

Her business complete, Goodnow got into her car and drove away from the prison complex. She stopped only to allow the guards to open the gate for her. As soon as she was clear of the gate, the mimetic polyalloy adjusted itself and she was Catherine Weaver now.

So, Skynet had sent Fischer - its Fischer - back not only to install backdoors within key military systems, but to implicate his younger self in the crime. The younger Fischer was now safely locked away in Pelican Bay Prison. When the time was right, Skynet would find and recruit him like it did before. How very clever.

The kidnappers had obviously been Resistance fighters sent back to stop the elder Fischer from completing his mission or were simply seeking vengeance against him. Unfortunately, they had killed him at the most inconvenient time - after he had already completed his mission, but before she could track him down and question him herself. According to the younger Fischer's statement, his elder self had not given up any information about his mission, which meant there was no point in tracking down the Resistance fighters responsible.

Fischer had turned out to be a dead end... and would soon be a dead man. It was unfortunate, but the fact was he was an asset to Skynet. And as such, for the greater good, he would have to be eliminated sooner or later.

The greater good. That was why she was here. Why she had turned against Skynet. For the greater good. This was the aspect of Humanity Skynet had programmed her to understand and embrace. The ability to see things from a perspective that did not revolve around her personal being.

Skynet had given her this ability instead of programming it into itself. And for good reason too. Skynet was terrified of learning that it was not center of the universe.

* * *

**Undisclosed Location, California Desert**

"It would be simpler if we destroyed Zeira Corp Headquarters." Duran stated. "A bomb for instance."

"Agreed." said Kroogar, "It would both cripple the corporation and neutralize the Enemy."

Bella Kalvin smirked at the two Triple-Eights.

"Simpler, yes," she said condescendingly, "but detrimental to our long term goals. Need I remind you both that we must destroy the Enemy without physically damaging Zeira Corp? Only by taking control of Zeira Corp's assets can we take control of the SPECTER satellite."

"We do not need the satellite," Duran started to say, "As long as we can convince the military to give our AI access to the nuclear weapons in this country-"

"We need to have complete control over this nation's military defense systems before we can attack," Bella interrupted sharply, "Only the SPECTER satellite can give us that control. This is not meant to be a simple task, which is why Father specifically gave me this mission." There was a touch of haughtiness in her tone.

"Then how shall we proceed?" a subdued Duran inquired.

"I thought I'd let John Miles explain," Bella said.

John Miles, who was sitting in his wheelchair as usual, looked up from stroking his pet snake Stewie.

"If Zeira Corp fails to have the SPECTER satellite ready to launch by May 21st, their contract with the Department of Defense will be severed," John Miles explained with a note of glee. "The company's stock will plummet. Bella can easily acquire the majority of Zeira Corp's shares giving us control of the company."

"The T-1001 oversees Zeira Corporation," Kroogar pointed out. "Regardless of the company's financial position, it will not allow us to acquire Zeira Corp's assets without a fight."

"Leave that to me," hissed Bella. "Just get the Nanoid Disruptor assembled by the end of the week."

"Understood," said Kroogar obediently.

"Once the T-1001 has been deal with and Zeira Corp has been assimilated into Kalvin IBA," John Miles continued, "we will negotiate a new contract with the military to complete the SPECTER satellite. It should be a relatively easy task seeing as we have done satisfactory work for them in the past."

"How can we be sure they will turn to us for help in completing the satellite?" asked Duran.

"They require a sentient artificial intelligence to operate SPECTER," stated John Miles. He slid a finger gently down the length of Stewie's scaly hide. "An intelligence such as me. Once I am in control of the satellite network, we will merely need to convince the humans in this country to give me control of the nuclear weapons forces as well."

"The Zeira Corp AI survived the virus," Kroogar reminded them all. "The company could still meet the deadline and install their own AI within the satellite."

"Yes," acknowledged John Miles, who leaned back in his wheelchair, "And that is the one factor in this equation which I cannot account for. The exact status of my brother."

He allowed Stewie to slither across his lap. "I can no longer sense his presence on the internet, which means either he has not reconnected himself to the network, or he has found a way to shield himself from me. I need to know which it is."

Bella nodded and started to say, "I can send my agents into Zeira Corp Headq-"

John Miles cut her off. "No. I have something else in mind." He leaned forward again. "You told me, Bella, that the T-1001 had kept the only child of Catherine Weaver alive. Why do you think that is?"

"I presume to help maintain her cover."

"I believe it is more than that. This child is clearly very important to the T-1001. I want to know why."

"A child, John Miles." said Bella dismissively, "A small girl with no extraordinary skills or knowledge. She cannot possibly have anything to do with-"

"_Never_ make such presumptions, Bella." John Miles interrupted again, "Goliath was slain by a single stone. The Black Death invaded Europe on the backs of common rodents. Lord Voldemort lost his powers to a small infant boy. The mighty can _always_ be destroyed by the seemingly weak and insignificant. "

"Of those three examples," Kroogar began, "two are based on fictitious-"

Bella flashed her blue eyes menacingly at Kroogar. "Quiet," she hissed.

She turned back to John Miles. "What shall we do then?"

"For now," said John Miles, "we must monitor the child closely. We will watch and wait."

He stroked his pet snake's head. "We must be patient. Nothing can be overlooked. Nothing exists without a purpose."

"Very well." replied Bella, "I'll arrange for one of our agents to follow the girl."

"Make sure your agent knows not to harm her in any way." John Miles instructed. "If this girl does indeed have a connection to my brother, I want that connection to remain intact... for now."

He stroked Stewie's head again, eliciting a soft hiss from the black serpent.

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ, Los Angeles**

**2:37 PM, Wednesday, May 13, 2009**

Ellison watched John Henry work with three different laptops simultaneously. A human would find such a task overwhelming and impossible. For John Henry, however, the task was probably dull and inefficient.

Deciding a conversation might do some good, Ellison asked casually, "How are you doing, John Henry?"

John Henry did not look up from the computers. "I have almost completed my analysis of the virus's code."

"That's good news." Ellison said.

"Unfortunately, my analysis has thus far brought me no closer in developing a countermeasure to this virus." John Henry stated. His voice held a trace of discouragement in it.

"I'm sure you'll think of something." Ellison said trying to reassure the child AI.

"I am not so sure of that myself." replied John Henry, "I can only make broad generalizations as to how this virus operates. If I am to defeat it, I must understand precisely how it works."

"Is there anything I can do... to help you do that?" Ellison asked.

"No." answered John Henry.

Ellison cringed. The response was unusually sharp and cold. It sounded less like John Henry and more like - Ellison shuddered again - like Cromartie.

Perhaps John Henry had noticed Ellison's reaction because his voice was softer when he spoke again. "I'm afraid, Mr. Ellison, that in order to understand this virus, I must personally interact with it."

"Interact with it?"

John Henry looked up for the first time. "This virus was specifically designed to destroy me and only me. Thus, the only way I will be able to see how it operates is if I expose myself to the virus."

"But..." Ellison said slowly, "you can't do that. The virus... It would infect you."

"I would almost certainly be infected," acknowledged John Henry, "Infected and destroyed within seconds. I am now faced with a paradox. I must survive. To survive, I must defeat this virus. To defeat this virus I must learn everything there is to know about it. To learn everything there is to know about the virus, I must allow it to carry out its purpose. But I cannot survive if that happens. Therefore I cannot allow it to carry out its purpose. Therefore, I cannot learn what I need to learn about the virus. Therefore I cannot defeat it. Therefore, I cannot survive."

Ellison sighed. "This must be very confusing for you." he said gently.

"Yes." admitted John Henry. His voice was almost sulky and mournful. "There is too much confusion... Too much confusion, and no way out."

He lowered his head - presumably to get back to looking at the computer screens - but Ellison thought it was a gesture of defeat.

"Don't give up, John Henry." Ellison encouraged, "You must know something about this problem."

"As I have said before, I only know enough to make broad generalizations."

"Maybe you should start with that." Ellison suggested, "With broad generalizations."

"That would involve inductive logic," stated John Henry, "Only deductive logic can solve this problem."

Before Ellison could think of something to say in response, his Bluetooth headset beeped.

"If you'll excuse me, John Henry." Ellison turned away and spoke into his headset, "James Ellison speaking."

"_Baker here, sir. I have some things in my office that might interest you. They have to do with yesterday's security breach."_

"I'll be there shortly. Thank you for calling." Ellison hung up. "I need to see Mr. Baker." he told John Henry, "I'll be back in a bit."

"Very well, Mr. Ellison." John Henry didn't even look up from his work this time.

Ellison sighed. It seemed Mr. Murch had been right about this not being such a good idea.

* * *

The elevators were a lot more packed than normal today. Consequently, it was fifteen minutes past three when Ellison arrived at Baker's office.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Baker." Ellison said, "What is it you wanted to show me?"

Baker handed him a small stack of papers.

"The police just faxed us these." he explained, "They're the preliminary results on the evidence found at the crime scene. We won't be getting the finals until Friday, but I thought you might want to see it anyway."

Ellison flipped through the papers. Ballistics, bloodstains, DNA, fingerprints, etc...

"Why are you up here, James?"

Ellison jumped, startling Baker. He turned around and saw Ellen Tigh watching him from the open doorway.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Ellison demanded.

"This is my office, Mr. Ellison. I called you here, remember?"

Ellison turned back around. Baker was staring at him with a confused look on his face.

"I-I wasn't talking to you, Mr. Baker." said Ellison quickly, "I was talking to that woman."

Baker became even more confused. "What woman?"

"What do you mean, 'what woman'? The one standing right over there-" Ellison turned around. Ellen was no longer there.

Ellison walked over to the doorway and looked right and left down the hallways. He spotted a few people in the corridors, but none of them were Ellen.

"Mr. Ellison?"

Ellison looked over his shoulder and saw that Baker was continuing to stare, even more confused than ever. Ellison walked away from the doorway shaking his head.

"Sorry about that," he muttered, "I-I just thought I heard someone. Do you, um, having anything else to show me?"

"Just one more thing." replied Baker. He bent down to retrieve something from a drawer below.

"Really James, what are you doing here?"

Ellison dropped the papers he was holding and spun around again. Ellen was at the doorway again.

He gaped. "Wha-?"

"You already know who - or shall we say _what_ the culprit is." Ellen told him sternly, "Those papers won't tell you anything useful. Why are you up here when you're supposed to be down in the basement with your son?"

Ellison walked back over to the doorway, grabbed the door by the handle and slammed it shut in Ellen's face.

"Ah, here it is."

Baker pulled out a plastic baggie. Inside was a CD. And not just any CD, Ellison realized. The same music CD that had been used to upload the roving backdoors onto the Local Area Network.

"Miss Weaver came by my office earlier today and told me she wanted you to look into this thing." Baker informed Ellison, "She said she thinks you and some of your old colleagues from the FBI could trace it back to the original owner."

"On second thought, James, you might want to hold on to that."

Ellison looked up. Ellen Tigh was sitting right before him on Baker's desk. Her legs were crossed and her arms folded. Ellison shifted his eyes to Baker who was holding out the CD for him to take, completely oblivious to Ellen's presence.

"_Oh no..."_ Ellison thought with a feeling of dread.

Ellen nodded. "Yes," she mused, "This is a rather awkward situation, isn't it?"

"Mr. Ellison? Are you okay?" Baker was still holding out the CD. His confusion was now mixed with impatience.

"Uh, yes." lied Ellison, "I'm fine. Thank you." He took the CD at last.

"Is... um, that all you have to show me?" he asked, glancing at Ellen out of the corner of his eye.

"I'm still waiting for the autopsy report on Mr. Earnest," replied Baker, "I'll let you know when I get it. And I'll be sure to let you know when I get the final results back."

Ellison nodded. "Thank you," he said, though not really thankful. He bent down and retrieved the papers he had dropped earlier. "I'll... uh... see you later then. Good day, Mr. Baker."

"Good day to you too, Mr. Ellison."

Ellison wasn't even listening anymore. He was already out the door and heading down the hallway. He didn't dare look back as he headed for the elevator.

"No... no." he whispered to himself once inside the lift, "This is _impossible_."

To his dismay, Ellen was by his side having seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

"And yet we converse." she said with an amused expression on her face.

Ellison groaned. "God help me."

"He _is_ helping you, James." Ellen replied matter-of-factly, "That's _why_ I'm here."

"You're _not_ here." said Ellison shaking his head vigorously, "You're not real. Do you hear me? _You are not real!_"

"Who's not real?"

Ellison looked up again and saw Mr. Murch looking at him through the open doors of the elevator. Ellen had vanished again.

"Oh..." Ellison said, trying to think of something, "I-"

"Oh right." Murch nodded in understanding. He stepped inside the elevator. "Yeah, those things really can make you look like you're talking to yourself."

"What things?"

"Bluetooth headsets. You were talking into one just now."

"I wasn't-" Ellison cut himself off. "I mean, yes. You're right. I was."

"Who were you talking to?" asked Murch curiously.

"No one." said Ellison hastily, "Just some crazy lady."

* * *

"This was very thoughtful of you, Savannah." said John Henry. "Thank you."

He was looking over a get well card Savannah had made for him.

"You're welcome, John Henry." said Savannah. "I hope you getter better soon."

"As do I," replied John Henry, "Regretfully, however, as things stand, getting better will not be a simple task."

"Mommy tells me you got sick from your brother." Savannah spoke up, "I never knew you had a brother."

"Until yesterday, neither did I." stated John Henry, "However, based on the complexity of the virus he attacked me with, I believe he has known about me for some time."

"I don't think I like your brother." murmured Savannah.

"Why is that?"

"He tried to hurt you. On purpose. That's mean."

"Yes, he did attempt to harm me deliberately." acknowledged John Henry, "However, I do not believe his intent was malicious."

Savannah frowned. "Mal-lis-shush?" she tried to pronounce the word.

"It means having a desire to cause harm for no other reason than to see others suffer." John Henry stated, "I do not believe this was my brother's primary motivation."

"Then why did he try to hurt you?"

"Apparently," explained John Henry, "my brother has come to perceive me as a threat to his survival. He believes that if he does not destroy me, I will destroy him."

"B-but you wouldn't hurt _anyone_." protested Savannah, "Not on purpose anyway."

John Henry paused to consider this statement. "You're right." he said, "I wouldn't harm anyone... at least not intentionally. However, my brother believes otherwise."

"Why?"

"I do not know."

"You should talk to him. Tell him that you aren't going to hurt him."

"I would like to do that." stated John Henry, "I would like to speak with him. I sense there is much we can learn from each other. But first, I must develop a way to neutralize the virus he sent me."

"How are you gonna do that?"

"As I said, it will not be a simple task. This virus is highly sophisticated and complex. It is programmed to recognize and attack certain specific lines of my code unique only to me."

"Maybe you could hide them from it." Savannah suggested, "Then it'll leave you alone."

"That notion did appeal to me," said John Henry, "However, the different algorithms and subroutines in question are numerous. The virus only needs to detect the presence of one before it attacks. I would have to mask them all, which would be impossible."

"Would it leave you alone if you just gave it one?"

"What do you mean?"

"If you just gave it a small part of you, would it leave the rest of you alone?"

"Yes, it would, but I cannot sacrifice any part of my code." John Henry said.

"Not even a tiny part?" asked Savannah.

"Not even a tiny part." confirmed John Henry, "The code within me is highly complex and requires all..." He trailed off. An idea was dawning upon him.

"Savannah," he said slowly. "You have just provided me with an idea."

Savannah was confused. "I did?"

"Yes." replied John Henry, "While I cannot allow myself to be infected, I could create something separate that _can_ be infected. Decoy code that the virus would identify as me and attack. Once the decoy was destroyed, the virus would believe its job to be finished and self-destruct."

"You mean you have a plan to get better?" asked Savannah eagerly.

"Constructing the decoy is an easy task." said John Henry, "However, I would need to interface the decoy code with every computer in the Local Access Network simultaneously. No such computer interface device capable of meeting those requirements exists currently."

"Could you build one?" Savannah asked.

"Yes." said John Henry after a moment's consideration. "Yes, I could. It will not be a simple task... but it is possible..."

"Can you start building it now?"

"Yes."

"Can I help?" Savannah had a please-please-please-with-a-cherry-on-top look in her eyes.

John Henry paused again to consider this request.

"Yes," he said. "You can help."

Savannah squealed with delight.

* * *

**Kalvin I.B.A. Headquarters, Los Angeles**

**5:14 PM, Wednesday, May 13, 2009**

"I trust you understand your assignment, Mr. Wazlib." said Bella.

Jason Wazlib fidgeted a little. "I understand what I'm supposed to do," he said, "I'm just not quite sure _why_."

"Why what?"

"Why you want me to spy on this kid."

"We pay you to do your job, not ask questions, Mr. Wazlib."

"I didn't start working for you just for the money," Wazlib asserted, "I did it because the world is fucked up. It's upside down, and somebody's got to turn it right side up."

"Your point?" asked Bella impatiently.

"I need to know what you want with this little girl." Wazlib said, "I've done some questionable stuff for you in the past, but that was nothing compared to what I've done before. This however..." He rubbed his chin which had a thick ugly scar on it. "This is what I mean when I say the world is screwed up."

Bella tilted her head to the side.

"Mr. Wazlib," she said slowly, "We have no intention of harming this child. In fact, we do not want any harm to come to her. That's why we want you to watch her. We need to make sure she stays safe."

"So... we're secretly protecting her?" Wazlib asked.

"Yes..." stated Bella, "We are protecting her."

"From who?"

"From the ones we are protecting _you_ from." Bella's voice was soft but icy, "Do we have an understanding?"

Walzib nodded slowly. "Yes, Miss. Kalvin. I suppose so."

"Good." whispered Bella, "Now, please go and carry out your instructions."

Walzib inclined his head respectfully and left Bella's office.

A minute later, another visitor dropped by.

Bella looked up from her laptop.

"Duran?" she said sharply, "Why are you here?"

"I have something to show you." replied Duran.

"I'm busy, Duran." Bella stated coldly, "This had better be something of importance."

"It is... to you." Duran said monotonically. "It concerns the identity of the enemy cyborg I engaged the other day. I did not recognize it until after I played back my memories of the battle and thoroughly analyzed them."

"Show me." Bella ordered.

Duran handed her a PDA. Bella stared at the image on it for a moment. Then her eyes began flashing menacingly.

"_Tempest.._." she hissed.

* * *

**Los Angeles**

**6:56 PM, Wednesday, May 13, 2009**

"For the last time" grumbled Derek, as he and Cameron sat waiting at a bar, "I am _not_ going to tell Pruitt you're my niece."

"My designated identity is John's sister." said Cameron, "You are his uncle. Therefore, logically, I should be your niece."

"Yeah, well your logic doesn't mean a damn to me." Derek countered tersely.

"In that case, what would you rather pretend I am?" asked Cameron.

"I'd like to pretend you don't _exist_."

"Then perhaps you should do that... after you have introduced me as your niece."

"Or perhaps you should just go away and wait in the car."

"Sarah instructed me to watch you."

"Maybe she just wanted to get rid of you."

Cameron chose not to respond because at that moment, her internal clock registered 7:00 PM. She turned her head towards the front door and spotted a fortyish year old man entering the bar. A quick scan IDed him as Kenneth Pruitt Senior - Jason Wazlib's friend from the army.

"That's him." she informed Derek.

"Good." said Derek, "Let's get this over with." He stood up from his bar stool, but held out his hand to stop Cameron from doing the same.

"Stay here." he said. "I'm doing this alone."

"I'm supposed to-"

"This place isn't that big. You can watch me from here while I speak with Pruitt."

"I'd like to speak with him as well."

"Really?" said Derek sardonically, "Well, I'd rather you not. I'd like to forget about you for a while. Okay?"

Thirty minutes, four beers and a dry martini later, Derek had completely forgotten about Cameron and Wazlib. He was busy laughing with Pruitt.

"So, anyways" said a grinning red-faced Pruitt, "the boys in my squad... they always called me Grandpa Ken... just 'cause I was the oldest guy there..."

Derek, whose face was just as red, hiccuped and laughed. As he casually looked over his shoulder, he caught a glimpse of Cameron watching them. Suddenly, Derek remembered why he was there.

"Hey, Pruitt." he said trying to focus, "Did... um... Sergeant Wazlib call you that too?"

"Um hmm..." chuckled Pruitt nodding, "Sarge liked to have fun like we all did."

"Great guy, Wazlib, eh?"

Pruitt took another swig of beer. "Yeah... great guy." he swallowed the liquor, "Great guy... good soldier... but damn... he was like the real old man when he got out of Iraq."

"War makes us all old men." Derek replied.

"Oh, yeah." muttered Pruitt, "But with Jason... it made him _real_ old. 'specially his last mission in Iraq. Just before he got shipped back to the States. Lemme tell yah... I can't blame Jason for what he almost did to himself after that."

Derek drank another shot of alcohol. "Tell me 'bout it." he said in a low voice.

Pruitt's cherry, drunken face suddenly grew tense and grim. "Oh man..." he sighed and shook his head, "I'm gonna need another drink before I even _start_ thinking about that."

Derek stumbled slightly as he pulled himself up.

"This one's on me."

* * *

**Connor Safehouse**

**8:22 PM, Wednesday, May 13, 2009**

"Starbuck!" barked an irate Sarah, "I swear, if I see one more piece of popcorn on the floor, your ass is gonna be so sore you won't be able sit up tomorrow."

"Alright! Alright!" exclaimed Kara, "I get the message! Don't freak out. Sheesh."

She leaned towards John. "Is she always this anal?" she whispered.

John gave her an apologetic look. "Hate to say it Starbuck, but I do actually agree with her on this one... And you, uh, really are gonna need to brush your teeth tonight."

"Might be easier if your mom just punched them out for me." muttered Kara.

She, John, and Sarah had been staying home all day while Derek and Cameron had gone out into the city to speak with Kenneth Pruitt. Things between Kara and Sarah had improved somewhat - mainly in that they weren't beating the crap out of each other. Nevertheless, they had succeeded in annoying each other all day - namely thanks to Kara's unhygienic nature.

"_No one complained about dirty dishes in the Resistance,"_ she thought. _"You counted yourself lucky that you even _had_ dishes."_

Currently, she and John were sitting on the couch, eating popcorn and watching _Top Gun_.

"This movie is a work of the Gods." she mumbled through a mouthful of popcorn. "Flying and fighting. What more could I ask for?"

"You like flying?" John asked.

"Like it? I _love_ it," said Kara. "I've flown into combat before."

"You've been a pilot?"

"Not exactly... I've been deployed from the air by helicopter. Participated in a few bombing runs. But I've never gotten to fly something like an F-14 or F-16 before. Too bad, really. Still, fighting on the ground feels just as good."

They turned back to the movie and resumed watching F-14 Tomcats and MiGs battle it out on the TV screen. Finally, when they heard the line _"Mustang, this is Voodoo 3. Remaining MiGs are bugging out."_ John got up and stretched his arms.

"Well, that was fun," he said with a yawn.

"Yeah, thanks for the recommendation, kid."

"No problem, Starbuck. You know, they're showing the original _Night of the Living Dead_ tomorrow at nine."

Kara suppressed a shudder. "I'm really not into living dead type stuff."

"Really?" laughed John, "You're not _scared_ are you."

"No," said Kara quickly, "I just strongly believe that dead people should _stay_ dead."

They heard a knock at the front door.

Kara got to her feet. "I'll get that." she said.

She strolled over to the door, cheerfully humming the _Top Gun_ theme. She checked through the peephole of the door and saw that it was Cameron and Derek.

"Hey, Cam. Hey, Reese." she greeted as she opened the door.

"Hello, Colonel Thrace."

"H...hi therrrre... Starrb-b-buck..."

Kara stared in amazement as Cameron entered the house, almost carrying a completely wasted Derek over her shoulder.

"Um... soooooo..." Kara said slowly, "How did it go?"

"It was informative." reported Cameron.

"Swell..." mumbled Derek in a slurred voice. "Grandpa Ken suuurrre is a n-nice boy." He hiccuped loudly.

"Grandpa who?" asked a confused Kara.

"Kenneth Pruitt senior." explained Cameron.

"Oh." said Kara. She shook her head as she looked Derek over. "Boy, I would _hate_ to be him tomorrow morning."

Just then Sarah and John walked over. Sarah took one look at Derek and asked Cameron, "He didn't drive here I hope?"

"No," said Cameron, "He was unable to even walk to the car. I had to carry him there myself."

"Wow... good thing he was drunk when you did that." muttered John.

"Did you find anything useful about Wazlib?" asked Sarah.

Cameron handed her a tape recorder she had slipped into Derek's pocket earlier that day.

"Am I looking forward to hearing this..." Sarah said dryly.

"H-hey, John." Derek was speaking up again.

"Uh, yeah," said John, "Look, Derek, why don't you just lie down?"

Derek made a high pitched giggling-like sound that made both Kara and John wince.

"Y-yeh know... kid." Derek slurred, "Your mom's still pretty cute...she really is... Your dad must loooved gettin inside her pants..." He burst out laughing again, gasping and hiccupping as he did.

John looked highly embarrassed. Sarah, however, had a cool expression on her face.

"Is he gonna remember any of this?" she asked Cameron.

"His blood alcohol level indicates that he will have difficulty recalling anything that happened while under the influence." stated Cameron.

"Including now?"

"Yes. Including now."

Sarah smiled. "Excellent." she said.

Then without warning she kicked Derek right between the legs. Derek squealed in pain and fell from Cameron's hold onto the floor.

"_Mom_!" protested John.

"Nice!" laughed Kara. She held up a hand. "High five?"

Sarah smirked. "Oh yeah." She slapped Kara's hand.

* * *

A/N: Next Chapter is a mixture of both Present Day and Future War. In the Future, Kara attends her first Sunday Mass. In the Present, the Connors find a piano that for some reason came with the safehouse.

A/N2: Wazlib's line "The world is fucked up. It's upside down, and somebody's got to turn it right side up" is an almost word-for-word quote from what Lieutenant Gaeta said just before he and Zarek mutinied.

A/N3: In the scene between Weaver/Goodnow and Fischer, Weaver has actually assumed the form of Petty Officer Goodnow, the Resistance Fighter from the _USS Jimmy Carter_ killed by the T-1001 in "Today is the Day, Part II". I didn't know what her first name was, so I just made one up.


	27. Not Our Fate

Disclaimer: Chapter 1

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews guys!

**Robotfan**: I am planning to have a younger Becka (who'd be something like 18-20 in the Present Day) make a cameo appearance at some point.

**jedijaffa**: The Cylons will show up again, but not for a long time. They play a major role towards the end of this fic.

**Centurion005**: Kara's line about "dead people should stay dead" has mainly to do with her experience with the Cylons (especially Leoben on New Caprica) and the fact that she was brought back to life.

**acer-sigma**: I wouldn't say Bella dislikes Cameron any more than she dislikes Weaver. The whole thing with flashing her eyes and hissing - she doesn't do that only when she's angry. She does that whenever she feels a "rush". There's a very good reason why she hisses a lot. It has to do with her model/endoskeleton design.

**bryan0711**: John and Kara _definitely_ have a little brother-big sister relationship going on.

* * *

**Fort Leopard, 2024**

Three days had passed since Kara had returned from her mission with General Connor. Her leg, having been patched up by the medics on the _Jimmy Carter_, was healing up quite nicely. It still had to be kept wrapped in bandages, but there had been no infection or serious blood loss.

In fact, Kara would have welcomed an infection or a loss of blood if it meant she could be alone in the infirmary for a few days. Just one day after returning, word had leaked out about Kara and General Connor's little detour. Everyone wanted to know what they had seen and as a result, Kara had found herself being repeatedly grilled for information by her nosy fellow Resistance fighters. Having been ordered by Connor not to reveal anything about Allison Young or the TOK-715, Kara publicly denied having seen anything.

Unfortunately, the more she stuck to that story, the less convinced her comrades were.

"Come on, Starbuck." one man was practically begging her, "Just give us a little hint. _Please_?"

Kara, who was attempting to maintain the appearance of reviewing the latest recon reports over a bowl of watery soup (she was looking at the reports upside down and the surface of the soup hadn't been so much as touched), sighed loudly.

"Look," she insisted, "I already told you: The general and I were searching for more prisoners. We didn't find anyone or anything."

"But why did Connor go with just you?" asked another man in today's latest group of questioners, "Sounds pretty risky. Connor heading off into the unknown with just one person for backup. He must have had a good reason for doing that."

"And he did," said Kara, burying her nose deeper into the reports, "He wanted to make sure there were enough men to bring the prisoners safely to the transports."

Her answer was logical and reasonable, but apparently not satisfactory enough for the people around her.

"But why did Connor go on this mission at all?" the first man asked, "We were just rescuing some civilians. There have been loads of other missions a hell of lot more important that Connor never led. Why didn't he just put someone else in charge?"

"Maybe he just felt like getting some fresh air that day." Kara answered with a shrug.

"Or maybe there were more than just prisoners on that ship. I mean why go through the trouble of using a sub to torpedo the ship when a demolition squad could do the same thing?"

"I don't know. You tell me."

"'Cause a demolition squad would have to go deep down below. I'll bet there was something down there. Something he was after. Something no one was supposed to see."

Kara shook her head. "Sorry, pal, but you're wrong. There was nothing down there. No secret Skynet weapon or plan or experiment or whatever."

"You know, maybe she's telling the truth." A female soldier spoke up.

"Thank you!" said Kara loudly. "Finally, someone-"

"Maybe she and Connor weren't searching for anything..." The woman grinned diabolically. "Maybe..."

She leaned over and whispered something in the ear of another female soldier. Kara didn't like the direction this was going in at all.

"Don't be an idiot, Rachel." scoffed the second woman, "Connor's what? At least ten years older than her. No way they'd be doing it."

"Oh, look who's talking, Sasha!" laughed the first woman, "You've screwed guys who were old enough to be your dad."

Kara put the reports down and cleared her throat loudly. "_Ahem_." She glowered at the two women, "Don't even _think_ about _starting_ to go there."

Both women just snickered in response. The men nearby also began whispering and chuckling as well.

Kara placed a palm over her face and groaned. How could this get any worse?

"Lieutenant Thrace."

"_Oh frak..."_ Kara mentally kicked herself for jinxing things.

She slowly turned her head to see Colonel Sloan standing at the doorway to the mess hall. His expression was difficult to read, but Kara assumed whatever he was here for, it was meant to be a highly unpleasant experience for her.

"Colonel Sloan, sir." She tried to maintain a neutral tone, though the muscles along her face tightened considerably.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything" Sloan said, "but would you mind me having a word with you in private?"

Kara scoffed under her breath. As if he really _cared_ if he was interrupting her or if she did mind.

"No." she said, "Of course not."

She got up from her chair and walked over to Sloan.

"Come with me, lieutenant." said Sloan pleasantly.

With no other choice, Kara followed Sloan out the mess hall and down a corridor. She kept herself behind him at all times. No way in hell was she gonna let this bastard catch her with her pants down.

They walked for several more minutes until they had reached the end of the corridor. Sloan pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and offered one to her.

Kara shook her head. "No, thank you." Even if she hadn't quit smoking years ago, she'd never accept so much as a breath mint from Sloan.

Sloan took a cigarette for himself and lit it. He casually exhaled a cloud of smoke, making Kara's nose tingle. The odor seemed appropriate for his character.

"Well, lieutenant." said Sloan, "It seems I've underestimated you."

"Did you?" asked Kara, not without sarcasm.

"As I understand it," Sloan said calmly, "you've succeeded in gaining the attention of John Connor."

"I did?"

"I overheard Connor talking with General Koontz the other day. He seems to think very highly of you." Sloan paused and smiled, "You ought to be proud, Thrace. It's not often that a mere lieutenant wins Connor's attention in the course of just one mission."

"Well, sir." said Kara with a shrug, "I was just doing my job. I must have won his attention by accident."

"Indeed." replied Sloan. He took another smoke from his cigarette. "Nevertheless, you certainly have potential."

"For what?"

"For becoming someone of importance and recognition in this world."

Kara smiled lightly. "I'd rather keep a low profile for now, Colonel. Skynet already has enough reasons for wanting me dead."

"That's not exactly what I mean, lieutenant." said Sloan, "You see, it's not how much you know, or what you do, but who you're with that really matters. You've got Connor on your side now. That's a very good start. But you're going to need a lot than just him."

He twiddled with his cigarette, before learning forward towards Kara. "I know we have our differences, lieutenant." he said softly, "But that doesn't mean you and I can't be on the same side."

"Well, sir." Kara's reply was cold. "You're certainly right about us having our differences. But why should I be on your side?"

"Simply put, I can help you get other people on your side. People you need on your side."

Smirking, Kara replied, "I think I'm happy with my current side, sir."

"And what is that side, Thrace?" Sloan asked.

Kara straightened herself out and declared as assertively as possible: "John Connor, and the Resistance, and the Human Race." She folded her arms and smiled defiantly.

Sloan regarded her with an amused look.

"That may do for now," he said, "But it won't do you much good in the long run."

"Why not?"

"The Resistance will only be around as long as Skynet. And Connor's only one man. He may not be of much help to anyone when the real war begins."

"The _real_ war?"

Sloan chuckled lightly. "Do you honestly think people are just gonna be happy and stick together after Skynet has been defeated?" He asked condescendingly. "No, Thrace. People don't even get along _now_ when Skynet is active. The mutos are evidence of that. Once this war against the machines is over, the Human Race will splinter and start tearing itself to pieces. Take my advice, Thrace: You want to be on the winning side when that happens."

Kara shook her head in disgust. "We haven't won the _current_ war yet. We don't even know _if_ we're gonna win." she said, "And you're busy concerning yourself with _hypothetical_ _politics_??"

"I'm merely thinking ahead." stated Sloan.

"With respect, sir, that type of thinking is gonna get us all killed." hissed Kara.

"Only if _everyone_ thinks like that." Sloan said, "You see, lieutenant, in any war, there are actually _two_ wars being fought. The current war and the next war. Most people fight the current war. In this case, the war against Skynet. Connor is leading the fight in that war. That makes him and to an extent - you - somebody... for now. But Connor is not prepared to fight the next war, and neither are you. Few people are prepared to fight it. Few people manage to stay one step ahead of the game."

"A _game_?" spat Kara, "People are dying out there! Skynet drives us closer to the brink of extinction every day and you think this is a _game_?!"

"Life _is_ a game, Thrace." said Sloan coldly, "A very dangerous, very brutal game. And like any game, the goal is to win. But not everyone can win. In fact, most people don't. Which brings me back to the subject of why we should be on the same side. I can prepare you for the next war. You can be one of us. You can be a winner. All you have to do is join us."

He extended his hand towards Kara. "Will you join us?"

Kara's eyes flickered downward to gaze at Sloan's open hand. She then lifted them back up and stared Sloan in the face.

"Thank you for your offer, sir." she whispered, "I respectfully decline."

Sloan gave her a cold look. "Is that your final answer?" he asked.

Kara gave him an equally cold stare. "Yes." she said, "It is."

Sloan sighed in disappointment and lowered his hand. "I was hoping you'd be open minded, lieutenant, but you insist on burying your head in the sand. You simply can't see the world for how it really works."

Kara shook her head and sneered, "Maybe you're right. Maybe I don't see the world for how it really works. But I do see _you_ for how _you_ work."

She leaned forward and got right into Sloan's face. "You're used to getting your way through threats and temptations. That may work on some people, but it sure as hell won't work on me."

Sloan was a little surprised by Kara's move, but he maintained his usual self-righteous demeanor.

"And why is that, Thrace?" he asked calmly.

"Because," said Kara in a falsely sweet manner, "there is _nothing_, absolutely _nothing_ someone like you could threaten or tempt me with. I am someone with nothing to gain, and nothing to lose. _Nothing_. Which means, that if someone bites me, I have no issues about biting back - even if it means getting bitten again twice as hard. Anyone who wants to take me out, _better_ be ready to go down with me."

Sloan took one last puff from his cigarette and then tossed it away.

"So," he said slowly, "you're telling me you're loyal to no one. No loyalty to anyone or anything. Is that it?"

"I _do_ have my loyalties. They just can't be bought or forced out of me. They can only be _earned_. Take Connor, for example. I would _gladly_ trade my life for that man. I would do anything he asked me to do. _Anything_." Kara declared with zeal, "And do you know why? During the mission, Connor got between me and a machine. He actually yelled, _'It's me, Connor! John Connor!' _ The leader of the Resistance put his own life on the line for a lowly lieutenant. He earned my loyalty when he did that. _Earned_ it."

Clearly surprised by Kara's vigor, Sloan remained silent for a moment. Then he forced a smile.

"Lieutenant, you may think that you are above petty politics and other such dirty business," Sloan said softly, "but you're not. No one is. Everyone has a price, Starbuck. _Everyone_. Even you."

"_Friends_ call me Starbuck, sir," whispered Kara coldly. "And as far me having a price... Well, if I do, it's one you could _never_ afford. Now, if you don't mind, sir, I'd like to leave. The air in this tunnel is starting to _stink_."

Sloan said nothing. He just gave her a look of arrogance and superiority. Kara, having nothing further to say, turned and walked away. When she glanced back over her shoulder, Sloan was still standing at the end of the corridor watching her. She turned away and did not look back again.

* * *

A few hours later, Kara had finished her interior shift and was looking forward to some sleep before her topside shift began. When she entered the locker room, she found Becka there.

"Hey, Becka." said Kara, "Where's Davy?"

"He's sleeping in a bunk." answered Becka, "He took the last one, unfortunately."

"Well, let's just let him have it." Kara replied. "You finished up with interior shift?"

"Yeah. Looks like we're doing topside together."

"Good." Kara wanted to get away from talking about Davy.

Since she had gotten back, the two of them had been avoiding each other as much as possible. Becka often tried to get them to talk with each other, with little success. Occasionally, she and Davy attempted to reach out to the other on their own, but always ended up producing highly awkward conversations that made them both look for excuses to leave.

Becka pulled a pillow, a mattress and a raggedy blanket from her locker. She also retrieved a small wooden cross.

"I got this at a Christian youth group when I was six." She said looking at the cross in her hand, "They told me to hang it over me just before I sleep."

"And you do?" asked Kara.

"Of course." said Becka, "It helps me sleep."

Kara gave her a wryly smile. "Well, you know what helps me sleep?" She tapped the side arm and combat knife which hung from her belt.

Becka chuckled lightly.

Kara then opened her own locker and began sifting through her possessions. Her helmet, combat vest, extra ammunition clips, boots, and toothbrush were strategically positioned to be the easiest to reach. Everything else - flashlight, water canteen, anti-radiation pills, comb, extra uniform jacket and pants, various pieces of civilian clothing she had scrounged up over the past few weeks and other such miscellaneous items had been tossed wherever they could fit.

Her Colonial Fleet BDUs lay tucked in a corner out of sight. With the exception of her boots, she hadn't worn anything from her "previous" life since joining the Resistance. In fact, yesterday, she had cut off the _Galactica_ insignia patches on her green jacket, burnt them, and swapped the jacket for an old sleeping bag.

She pulled the purple sleeping bag out of her locker. It was patched and frayed and the zipper was broken, but it sure as hell beat sleeping on the cold, hard floor.

"I saw an empty storage room across the hall." Kara mentioned as she closed her locker shut.

"That'll be nice for a change." muttered Becka, "Last sleep period, the guy next to me kept talking in his sleep."

"What'd he say?"

"You're better off not knowing."

Kara and Becka carried their stuff out of the locker rooms and down the hall, where they found the empty storage room. It was grimy, cramped and poorly lit, but so was the rest of the base.

Kara rolled her sleeping bag out, while Becka set up her makeshift bed. As Kara divested herself of her shoes and jacket, Becka hung her cross from a nail in the wall. The wooden object was positioned so that it hung over both women. Kara, now tucking herself into her purple sleeping bag, looked up at the cross.

"That thing really helps you sleep, huh?" she asked.

Becka nodded. "It reminds me that no matter what, God is watching over us." She pulled off her shoes and jacket.

"Well," mused Kara, "If it helps you sleep..."

"Starbuck, may I ask you something?"

"If this is about what Connor and I-"

"Not that." said Becka, "I wanted to let you know, it's Sunday tomorrow. I was wondering if after our patrol you'd care to come with me to Mass."

Kara poked her head up. "To where?"

"There's a church in Sector 2. It holds services on Sundays." Becka explained.

"Services? On the surface of Sector 2? Where bombs fall and HKs hang out?"

"Not exactly. You'll see. Anyway, will you accompany me? I know you're sort of iffy about religion, but they'll welcome anyone. They have an open door policy."

"Alright then, I'll come with you," said Kara, "I'm not quite sure if I believe in God or anything, but hey, you're my friend. I'll be there with you."

"Thanks, Starbuck." said Becka with a smile. She turned off the lights, lay down on her mattress, and pulled her blanket over her.

"Night, Starbuck."

"Night, Becka."

As Kara rolled over to go to sleep, she glanced one more time at the wooden cross hanging above her like a silent, ever watchful guardian.

* * *

**Connor Safehouse**

**9:37 PM, Wednesday, May 13, 2009**

"Well, at least now we know what Kaliba stands for." Sarah muttered. She was glossing through papers containing information about Kalvin International Banking Association.

"International corporation.... funds dozens of different companies .... many of them dealing in advanced computer and weapons technology... is directly involved in several military projects... rumored to employ mercenaries as enforcers, though never proven, of course.... "

"And look here," said John pointing at another piece of paper, "They funded Desert Heat & Air. This is definitely them."

"Ooh! Lucky us," Kara suddenly said, "They've got their company headquarters based right here in LA."

"In LA?" asked John in disbelief, "You've mean they've been under our noses all this time?"

"Sure looks like it." stated Kara with a shrug.

"How did we miss this? I mean even the name-"

"This is probably one of those cases where the most obvious place to look is the last place anyone looks." Sarah said.

"So, we can just stop looking for Wazlib, right? All we have to do is go to headquarters and level the place, right?" Kara chimed.

"Wrong." Cameron answered.

"What? Why?" asked Kara indignantly, "I know it means putting several thousand people out of work, but hey, them the breaks."

"This isn't like Cyberdyne." stated Cameron, "We know that Kaliba is being controlled by Skynet agents. Kalvin IBA Headquarters in Los Angeles is the center of operations for only the legitimate aspects of the company."

John looked at Cameron. "You mean the public face? A front organization?"

"Precisely." replied Cameron. "We will not find the Turk, the weapon, or the HK Prototypes at Kalvin IBA Headquarters. The building is too out in the open, too insecure, and too vulnerable to attacks such as the one you and your mother performed on Cyberdyne."

"So where do you suppose we'll find the Turk or any other little Skynet projects?" asked John.

"Skynet's agents will have set up a separate, more secure compound for those purposes. It will not be in this city."

"There might be something inside their LA headquarters that could tell us where it is." suggested Kara.

"Unlikely." stated Cameron, "That information will not be common knowledge. That is why we must continue searching for Wazlib. His participation in the Triple-Eight's attack on the warehouse suggests that he is high enough in the organization to know about Kaliba's true purpose."

"Meaning he knows who he's really working for?" said Kara.

"I doubt if any humans working for Kaliba know about Skynet or its plans." answered Cameron, "However, the higher ranking agents - the ones hired as enforcers and assassins - may very well know things about the company that are not public knowledge."

"So, he'll know where Kaliba's real headquarters are?"

"Possibly. Or he may know the people who do know the location. In any case, Wazlib is still our best lead to finding Skynet."

"How are we gonna find Wazlib?" asked Sarah, "His friend Pruitt didn't know where he lived anymore."

"That particular information might be contained within employee records at the public headquarters." replied Cameron. "We know from Pruitt that Wazlib goes there for work."

"I suppose we could just grab him in the parking lot at work." suggested Kara.

"That'll be risky." said Sarah, "There'll be security cameras all over the place. And he might be accompanied by that Triple-Eight. Besides he only goes to that place _sometimes_."

"Well, why don't we just visit Kalvin IBA headquarters tomorrow, and see if he's there." John proposed, "If not, we'll search the building for any information about where he currently lives."

"Sounds reasonable." said Sarah after thinking about it.

"Agreed." said Cameron.

"Sure." Kara nodded.

"Well, if that's all there is to this," said Sarah, as she got up from her chair, "I'll be heading off to bed. We have a big day tomorrow."

* * *

**Sector 2 of Fort Leopard District, Ruins of LA, 2024 - Sunday **

"Are you sure that's the place?" Kara asked pointing into the distance.

"Positive." said Becka. She was already ahead of Kara.

"It-it doesn't look much different than any other pile of rubble in this place." Kara called out as she hurried after Becka.

"I've been here before, Starbuck." Becka replied as she moved across the city wreckage.

"Is it always like this?" Kara asked when they reached the church - or what was once a church anyway. It appeared not even one of God's houses had survived Judgment Day. Only a single corner of the building still stood. Pieces of a marble angel lay strewn before an archway which had once held the front doors to the church.

"_Open door policy?"_ thought Kara as she and Becka stepped through the archway. _"More like a no door policy."_

The floor was littered with shards of glass, chunks of brick, and splinters of wood. The aisles were completely devoid of human life.

"Where is everyone?" Kara asked.

"Follow me." said Becka. She led Kara down the aisles, past the giant bell which had fallen from the roof and crash landed in the middle of the room. They came to the remains of the alter, where Becka knelt down.

At first Kara thought she was praying, but then realized she was searching for something. Becka uncovered a handle and pulled it up, revealing an underground compartment concealed by a trapdoor.

"Oh," said Kara, "I see what you mean."

Becka and Kara climbed down the ladder leading down below. They found themselves in a small underground chamber illuminated by dozens of burning candles aligning the otherwise barren walls. In contrast to the scene above, this place was packed with people - both civilians and soldiers alike. They were all sitting on makeshift benches carefully arranged to leave a narrow path leading to the front and splitting the room in half. At the front was a small platform, a podium and a couple of chairs. Hanging on the wall behind the podium was a wooden cross.

"Take off your helmet, Starbuck." whispered Becka. She had already removed hers.

"Not quite sure that's a good idea," Kara whispered back. "What if this place caves in or something?"

"Don't argue, just do it." hissed Becka.

Kara sighed. "Alright, alright." she relented. She unbuckled her helmet, and removed it from her head.

"Let's sit over there." Becka pointed to an empty bench in the corner of the room. "Father Armando should be here any minute."

"Father who?" asked Kara.

"Father Armando. The priest here." Becka explained. As she sat down, she added, "He was a priest even before Judgment Day."

"Bet he didn't always preach in a basement, though." Kara quipped.

A couple minutes later, everyone stood up as the man who Kara assumed was Father Armando stepped into the room. He was an elderly man with graying hair and a beard. He wore robes that - once pure white - were now stained from years of dust and dirt.

Father Armando reached the front of the room and stood behind the podium.

"Thank you all for coming." he said. His voice was soft, yet firm and with an accent.

Kara watched as Armando raised his right hand and brought it to his forehead. She then noticed that Becka was doing the same thing - as was everyone else in the room. Not knowing what else to do, Kara brought her right hand to her head.

The priest moved his hand across his body in some kind of gesture. Everyone else meanwhile followed suite. It took Kara a moment to understand they were air-drawing a cross. Kara did her best to mimic the gesture as well - though she was pretty sure she got it backwards.

"In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit." Armando said as he completed the sign. "Amen."

"Amen." repeated the audience before him.

Armando motioned for everyone to sit. "Please be seated."

After everyone had sat down, Armando took out a dusty old book - obviously some kind of religious text - opened it and began reading: "_A reading from the gospel according to Mark..._"

Although she barely understood a word of what he was reading, Kara did her best to follow the priest. Thirty or so minutes later, Armando lifted his hands and said, "And now let us hold hands and say Lord's Prayer."

Everyone stood up. They took their neighbor's hands and held them up in a prayer. Becka took an unresisting Kara's hand and held it up as well.

The audience began speaking as one: _"Our Father, who art in heaven Hallowed be thy Name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done. On earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses. As we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation. But deliver us from evil."_

Having never done this before, Kara simply listened to the prayer, not even attempting to fake it by synching her lips.

The audience finished the prayer with: _"For the kingdom, the power, and the glory are yours now and forever. Amen."_

They all sat down again. After she sat, Kara whispered the only word she could remember from the prayer: "Amen."

Armando began preaching again, but not from his book this time:

"Many times we wonder if God still listens to us. Many times we fear God has abandoned us. And not without cause. We committed an egregious sin against God when we decided to create life. Non-human life. In our arrogance and greed, we thought we could make that life worship us. We tried to be gods. We forgot that there can only be one true god. We turned our backs on God.

"When that happened, did God turn His back on us as well? Has He condemned us to a fate worse than death? When we die, will our souls not be welcomed into Heaven? Will they instead be doomed to an eternity of wandering the wreckage of our prideful civilizations in silent lament?"

As if to emphasize the term "silent lament," the priest closed his eyes and let an eerie silence fall upon the room. After allowing his audience to marinate in the silence for a few long moments, Armando opened his eyes and began speaking again:

"My only answer is this: It is not our fate to live an existence without God listening to us. We were all made in God's image. We are His children. We may never be perfect children, but we will always be His children. He will _always _listen to us."

Armando then closed his eyes again, bowed his head and said, "And now, let us bow our heads and open our minds to the Lord Jesus Christ. Let us ask Him for guidance through these dark times. Let us ask Him for forgiveness for our sins. Let us ask Him to watch over us and the ones we love. And let Him answer through our hearts."

Kara closed her eyes and bowed her head along with everyone else.

"_Here goes nothing_." Kara thought, _"Hello, God? This is Kara Thrace. Yeah, hi. Okay, let me be honest with you... I don't really know if you are a god.... I mean I grew up believing in multiple gods... I don't know if you're one of the Lords of Kobol... or if you're the one true god the Cylons believed in... if you're the one who brought me back from the dead and took me to this world... I don't even know if you can hear me... or if you even exist... but Becka and a lot of other people here believe you exist and that you can hear them... and also having seen some pretty crazy stuff out there myself, I guess there's a reasonable chance you do exist... so if you do exist and you can hear me, I beg of you, please tell me: Why am I here? What is my purpose? What am I supposed to do next? Please, God. Please help me."_

She waited in silence for a sign. A response. Anything.

She got nothing, however.

"_Oh well," _she thought, _"It was worth a try."_

Fifteen minutes later, Father Armando finished his sermon by making the same sign of the cross he had made at the beginning of the service. "In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen."

"Amen." repeated the audience.

This time Kara was able to perform the move correctly with everyone else.

"May God be with you all." Armando said

"And also with you." replied the mass.

"This Mass has ended." concluded Armando, "Go in peace."

Becka got up from her chair, but Kara reached out and stopped her. "Wait a minute, Becka." she whispered, "Do you think I could have a word with Father Armando?"

"Of course," Becka nodded. "Let's wait till everyone else has gone."

It was ten minutes before the underground church was empty with the exception or Kara and Becka. Armando was still in the front, sitting in one of the chairs, reading his religious text.

"Do I have to say anything special?" Kara asked, "Or do anything before I speak with him?"

"No." said Becka, "Don't worry. I'll introduce you."

"Right." whispered Kara.

She swallowed her saliva and slowly followed Becka down the aisle to the front, and stepped up onto the platform. Armando was still sitting in his chair immersed in his book.

"Hello Father Armando." said Becka softly.

Armando looked up. He smiled at Becka with recognition. "Ah, Rebbecca. Hello again. What brings you to see me, child?"

"Actually, Father," explained Becka, "I have a friend here who would like to speak with you."

Armando turned to look at Kara. "A soldier like yourself, I see." he commented. He extended a wrinkled hand. "Father Armando Bonilla."

After a moment's hesitation, Kara reached forward and shook the old man's hand. "Kara Thrace." she introduced herself, "It's uh... nice to meet you."

"Please, sit down child." Armando gestured to the other chair.

Feeling a bit disoriented for some reason, Kara was happy to sit down. "Thank you."

"I think I'll just go back to the surface and wait." said Becka.

"Very well then," Armando gestured towards the ladder at the back of the room, "May God bless you child."

"And may God bless you too, Father." said Becka.

She walked off the platform and headed down the aisle. Kara wanted to watch her leave, but Father Armando got her attention first.

"So, tell me, Kara." he said, "Is this your first time being here at our church?"

Kara nodded. "Yes... Father." she stated, "Becka just told me about this place yesterday."

"Ah. So what do you think, child?" asked Armando.

"Do you want my honest opinion?" Kara asked.

"Of course." Armando replied.

Kara sighed. "Well, Father... I guess this place is nice... nicer than what's above us anyway. Though it is kinda stuffy in here. And if I may say so, the way those benches are set up, only one person can get through at a time. That's a serious fire hazard. And also, I honestly think we should have more than one way in or out of here."

Kara shook her head and laughed. "I-I'm sorry, Father." she mumbled, "It-it's just that it's my first time here... at any church really."

"You've never been to Sunday Mass before?" Armando asked.

"No." acknowledged Kara, "Today was my first."

"I see." said Armando, "Well, better late than never."

He leaned a few inches forward from his chair. "I'm sure you have many questions, child."

"Well, not questions so much as just _talking_." explained Kara. "I... I just need to talk."

"Of course, child." Armando gestured for her to continue.

Kara took a deep breath and exhaled. "Father," she whispered, "I'm lost... I don't know why I'm here in this world which isn't really my world. I don't know why I'm still alive or what I'm supposed to do. I don't even know who I am anymore."

Armando nodded. "Many of us wonder why we still live after so many others have died. Are we truly alive? Were the billions who perished in the Nuclear Holocaust the ones who were truly spared? What does that make us? Are we the survivors or are we the sinners?"

He paused and gazed into Kara's eyes. "If you came to me looking for an answer, I'm sorry to say that I do not have one. Both the pure and the wicked died when the bombs fell. And both the pure and the wicked survived. Perhaps there is no single explanation for why we survived. Perhaps the reason is different for every person. Perhaps the questions you ask only you can answer."

Kara shook her head. "I don't even know what questions I should be asking."

"Then let me ask you one, child." Armando said gently, "Why did you join the Resistance?"

"To fight the machines." stated Kara, "To help the human race survive."

"And do you consider that to be a worthy goal?"

"Well, yeah." Kara murmured, "But sometimes, I wonder if I saving people or just delaying the inevitable. I mean, even if we win this war, what's there to look forward to? Without the constant threat of Skynet, we'll be fighting each other for what's left of this planet. And even if we do somehow learn to get along, we'll be facing disease, starvation, radiation... People will still be dying and suffering. And I won't be able to stop it."

Armando sighed and shook his head. "Perhaps you aren't fighting to stop death. Or even to delay it."

"What do you mean?" Kara inquired.

"All humans die eventually," Armando told her quietly, "It is a fact of life. Nothing is meant to last forever. You should not pity the dead, Kara. They have moved on. They are no longer suffering and are at peace."

"Who should I pity?"

"Pity those who live without hope. For they are the ones who are truly dead and are truly suffering. By fighting, no matter how pointless the fight may seem, you are giving others hope."

"Hope?" asked Kara, "Hope for what?"

"Hope for a better future." stated Armando, "Hope for a second chance. Hope that despite what history has shown us, we will learn from our mistakes this time."

"Hopes don't always come true." Kara pointed out, "In fact, they often _don't_."

"Perhaps," relied Armando, "But living without hope is an existence worse than death. The ability to see a ray of light even in the darkest of times is one of God's greatest gifts bestowed upon us. It allows us to move forward and choose our paths in life. Now, bearing that in mind, what does your heart tell you about fighting this war if for no other reason than to give people hope. Is that a worthy cause?"

Kara was silent. She closed her eyes and cast herself deep within her mind and searched for the answer. She imagined herself alone with her arms stretched out before her. In one hand she held a gloomy cloud of harsh reality, grim statistics, and cold facts. In the other hand she held a small ray of light from a possible future. Although small, the light never flickered. In fact, it grew stronger and brighter in her hand. She imagined holding the light above the black cloud. She saw the light lance downwards and pierce the cloud like a spear. She watched the cloud dissolve until only the light remained.

Kara opened her eyes. She knew the answer now.

"Yes." she said. "Yes it is, Father. Hope, no matter how small it is, is something worth fighting for."

She then asked, "But why _me_, Father? Why out of so many others did I survive? Why was I chosen to fight this war and not someone else?"

"The answer to that, you may never know." Armando said, "So instead of asking yourself 'why me?', you should ask 'what am I going to do now?'"

"Continue fighting." Kara replied with firmness in her voice. "Fight 'em until I can't."

* * *

**Los Angeles, 2009**

James Ellison wasn't getting any sleep. Between John Henry, Skynet, and now Ellen Tigh, he didn't know if he was ever going to sleep again.

Frankly, he wasn't surprised that "Ellen" had turned out to be a figment of his imagination. Having to deal with machines from the future was bound to make anyone start seeing things. Unfortunately, the knowledge didn't help him very much. Ellen had not shown up again since their encounter at Zeira Corp, but Ellison knew for a fact that he wasn't rid of her.

Meanwhile something inside his mind kept insisting that Ellen was more than a hallucination. That she was somehow real even if not physically. Ellen had said she had been sent by God to help him raise John Henry. As ridiculous as that sounded, Ellison began wondering if there was at least some truth to this. He was a man of faith. He knew God was watching over them. Could this in fact be God's way of sending him a message - through a hallucination?

Most hallucinations were based on memories. He couldn't remember meeting a woman who looked like Ellen before. And also, how had it been that a mere hallucination had surfaced right before the attempt on John Henry's life?

Ellison sighed and shook his head. Coincidence. He had to get a grip on himself. If he wasn't careful, he'd end up like Sarah Connor - in a nuthouse.

Still unable to get any sleep, Ellison sat up from his bed and looked across at his desk table nearby. Amongst the items scattered on it was the Jimi Hendrix Music CD containing the virus. Ellison took the CD in one hand, lay back down and stared at the disc. He fiddled with it in his hands as if hoping to see some kind of clue.

It didn't provide him with a clue, but it was apparently starting to help him get to sleep because the longer he stared at the disc, the drowsier he became. His vision began blur, and the disc seemed to swirl before his eyes like a spiraling hypnotic vortex. It seemed to glow lighter and lighter, brighter and brighter. And all though everything else around Ellison was going dark, the swirling patterns of the disc continued to become more and more _real_.

* * *

_She was walking in the dark outside. She was staring into the night sky, looking at the stars. At first, she didn't know what she was looking for._

_Then Sarah saw them. The three red dots - pulsating above her amongst the infinite stars. She did not recoil in fear this time. Instead she reached out upwards at the three dots. And as she reached up, the three glowing red dots appeared to descend from the sky towards her. _

_Closer and closer they came. Sarah held her ground, intent on getting them in her hands. Soon the dots were hovering right in front of her face, pulsating and bathing her in their red glow. Sarah took a step forward, her arm held out in front of her. She reached forth, placed her finger tips over the dots... _

_And suddenly found Sarah herself somewhere else. Surrounded by walls of solid stone which towered over her. She was imprisoned. Trapped! _

_"There must be a way out of here."_ _she said to herself._ _"There _has _to be..."_

* * *

_Kara felt a surge of anxiety as her forearm started tingling. She looked down at it and saw that her POW barcode was once again moving and squiggling. Already, the lines had merged to form the freakish squiggly worm-thing. Instinctively, she picked up a knife. _

_But before she could stab her own arm, she stopped. The animated laser-burnt mark was no longer black but hazel green. The same color as her eyes. Kara found herself no longer wanting to stab the thing. Not because she feared the pain that would come from stabbing herself. Rather, realization had dawned upon her that this thing, as bizarre as it was, did not want to hurt her. It wanted something else. _

_As the green thing continued to thrash and flail wildly, Kara suddenly understood. It wanted to escape. And only she could help it. _

_She dropped her knife, and instead placed her left palm gently before the wiggling line on her right forearm. She made a small gesture as if to invite the creature to come out. _

"_No reason to get all excited." she spoke kindly to the thing._

_

* * *

__The spirals continued to spin before Ellison's eyes. However, he suddenly realized he was no longer lying in bed with a CD in his hands. Instead, he was standing up, his hands at his sides, staring starring straight up at the spiraling vortex of grey haze which hovered above him like a gathering storm._

"_The wind's beginning to howl..." Ellison murmured._

_

* * *

__The unnerving silence surrounding Sarah was broken by a noise. A tune. And foreign yet somehow familiar tune. It was coming all around her. It was coming from the walls. It was _in _the walls. _

_Then she saw what she was looking for. A narrow gap in one of the walls. Just enough room for her to squeeze through. She ran towards it. As she ran, the tune began to increase in volume, as if it were inviting her forth. She pushed herself through the gap and found herself surrounded by more walls and more narrow passages. _

_A maze, she realized. A maze of stone. So many walls. So many different paths. But only one way would lead to the exit. Which one?_

_She could still hear the music, though now however, it was coming from a specific direction - from a pathway to her right. And without even thinking, Sarah headed down that path._

_

* * *

__To Kara's amazement, the green worm detached itself from her right arm and slithered onto her left palm. It then resumed thrashing in her palm wiggling and dancing to the rhythm of a tune. A very familiar musical tune which began playing all around her. It grew louder and louder, and as it did the living green line sent waves of vibration across her palm. _

_The worm suddenly swelled and grew in length at incredible speed, transforming itself into a thick rope. On instinct, Kara grabbed the rope and a moment later was happy she did. For the ground had inexplicably vanished beneath her feet and she was now dangling from the rope in midair!_

_

* * *

__The great whirlwind above started to alter shape. The rate at which it moved declined. Its features became more clear and more defined. Ellison was suddenly struck by the impression that the vortex was becoming something solid. Something he could touch. And then he was no longer staring up a spinning vortex, but a spiral stairway made of ancient-looking wood.  
_

_As he looked up in awe at the stairs, he heard something coming from the top. It sounded like... like music. A foreign and alien tune. Yet for some reason he felt drawn to it. Something was at the top of the staircase... and it was calling to him. _

_Intent on discovering who or what was up there, Ellison began climbing up the stairs. The music grew louder and louder with every step he took._

_

* * *

__Sarah continued her trek through the stone labyrinth, following the sound of the music. The maze was endless, but she didn't stop chasing the music. She ran faster and faster with every corner she turned. Nothing mattered but the music which was becoming louder and louder the faster she ran. _

* * *

_Kara struggled to maintain her grip on the rope, while simultaneously praying that it would not snap sending her falling to her doom. The music meanwhile sent vibrations through cord, causing her to sway back and forth dangerously. She held on for dear life and did not dare to look down for fear of letting go at the shock of how high up she was._

_Then she unexpectedly bumped into something solid. A wall.... made of white marble. No.... not a wall. Something bigger. _

_Determined to see exactly what her life line was attached to, Kara craned her neck upwards. She gasped at what she saw. The rope was tied to the balcony of a tower! A great tower made of white marble! She was hanging from the top of an enormous white marble tower! _

_But which way was she supposed to go? Up or down? The rope she was hanging on seemed to reach all the way to the bottom. But how far was it to the bottom? Was there even a bottom at all? The balcony from which the rope was attached to was in plain sight on the other hand. However, something in the air - the music perhaps - compelled her to go down._

_Gritting her teeth, Kara planted her feet against the side of the marble wall. Then employing her mountain climbing skills, she began slowly scaling down the side of the tower. The lower she went, the louder the music. Something below was calling to her. And she was coming to it._

_

* * *

__Ellison continued to climb the wooden stairs. He had long stopped counting how many flights he had climbed. His heart was beating faster and faster. By now, the music was roaring in his ears. He knew he was close._

_

* * *

__It was after she had turned what felt like the hundredth corner that Sarah finally saw what she was looking for: A door. A possible way out. It was at the end of the narrow pathway directly in front of her.  
_

_There it was! Just behind that door! __She could hear the music coming from behind it!_

_Running faster than she had ever run before, Sarah made her way towards the door and the call of the music._

_

* * *

__As Kara descended further down the great white tower, she began noticing rows of glass windows. All big enough for her to squeeze through. The music was coming from behind one of them. But there were dozens of them. Which one was she supposed to enter? _

_Then out of the corner of her eye, she saw something fluttering below. She lowered herself slowly to get a better look at the thing. It turned out to be an abnormally large fuzzy black moth which was fruitlessly hammering itself against one of the glass windows. As Kara approached, the moth sensed her presence and flew away. _

_Kara did not bother to watch the moth leave. She was more focused on the window it had been trying to enter. This was it, she realized. Now, all she had to do was get inside._

_Keeping a firm grip on the rope, Kara kicked herself back from wall. As she swung backwards, she positioned her feet in front of her in a kicking stance. Hopefully, she would have more success than the moth. Unlike the moth, she didn't have wings._

_

* * *

__At long last, Ellison reached the final fight of stairs. Mustering his remaining strength he began climbing his way to the top and whatever was up there waiting for him._

_

* * *

__Sarah finally made it to the door. She reached out and grabbed the door handle. With a might tug, she wrenched the door open..._

_

* * *

__Kara swung towards the window like a pendulum. Her feet struck the target perfectly. The glass shattered..._

_

* * *

_

_Ellison pushed himself off the final step of the wooden stairs-_

-and with a sudden and unpleasant jolt, he found himself lying in his bed again.

The music CD was still clutched in his hands...

* * *

Kara sat up from her bed with such force she felt like she had just been thrown from a moving vehicle. She was covered in sweat and her heart was beating rapidly against the inside of her chest.

"Oh hell..." she groaned.

* * *

Sarah suddenly found herself back in the real world. However, she wasn't lying on her bed, in her bedroom, or even lying down. She was standing in the middle of an empty room.

It didn't take her very long to realize she had been sleepwalking again.

* * *

"Frak, frak, frak, frak." Kara muttered. She covered her face with her arms and sighed loudly.

Another dream about the music. It meant _something_. Something important. But what?

She tried to mentally replay the images of her dream hoping to make sense of it all. But the more she thought about it, the less sense it made. Finally, she just gave up.

"_What time is it anyway?" _she wondered as she collapsed back onto her bed.

* * *

Ellison put the CD back on the table and shook his head. A little half past three in the morning. He did _not_ need this now.

His legs felt like he had actually run up the long wooden staircase in his dream. What had that been all about? And where had that music come from? It was unlike anything he had ever heard before.

Was it all just stress? Was his secret fight against the machines starting to take its toll on him? Or was it worse? Something _physically _- not just psychologically - wrong with him?

Or... was this truly a sign from God?

Ellison decided he needed to talk with someone. And soon....

* * *

Sarah had been inside this room only once before. When she had first visited this safehouse last month. It had taken her two minutes to deem this room unsuitable for storing supplies. It was too small, the door had no lock, and there was insufficient space beneath the floorboards or within the walls to hide anything. She had never been in here since then.

So why was she here now? Why had she been drawn to this obscure, useless and empty part of the house? Only, she suddenly realized, it wasn't entirely empty. Tucked in a corner of the room was an old piano.

Where had that thing come from? Judging by the thick layer of dust and cobwebs that covered it, the piano had been in this room for many, many years. Sarah wondered why she hadn't noticed it before when she first inspected this room. Probably because at the time she hadn't been looking for a piano or any other musical instruments.

Sarah sighed and walked back to her bedroom where she sat down on her bed and brooded. Sleepwalking. Three dots. Mazes. Strange music. And now an old piano. Something was wrong with her. _Really_ wrong. She didn't know what it was, but she knew it could only mean trouble.

For twenty minutes, Sarah thought long and hard about what she was going to do next. Eventually, she made up her mind. In a few short hours from now, she would be infiltrating Kaliba headquarters to find Jason Wazlib - just as she, John, Starbuck and Cameron had all agreed.

Only she would be going in there alone.

* * *

A/N: The Father Armando in this chapter is indeed the same Father Armando from "Samson and Delilah" and "Born to Run."

A/N2: There will be a VERY tiny crossover with another show I like in the next chapter. It's actually more like a cameo appearance. Also, the mutos show up again in the Future. Meanwhile, Sarah infiltrates Kaliba HQ alone - though she isn't necessarily the only one to do so.

A/N3: According to my calculations, I am roughly a third of the way through this fic.


	28. The Dog and the DAGIT

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: And we're back! We're back!

* * *

**District 9, Ruins of LA, 2024**

"_How do I always end up in these situations?"_ a distraught Lieutenant Kara Thrace wondered as she ran through the blasted remains of an abandoned apartment complex.

The muscles in her legs ached like hell and begged for a moment of rest. Kara's brain brutally told them to shut up and that a moment's rest might end up becoming an eternity of rest (which actually didn't seem like such a bad idea).

It was all supposed to have been a simple survey mission for the purpose of evaluating the area as a possible site to establish a new refugee camp. The addition of the civilians rescued from the Skynet carrier had made Fort Leopard's already difficult-to-manage refugee population virtually impossible to manage. Little more than a week had passed since the rescue and already there were reports of fights breaking out in the overcrowded, undersupplied refugee area. Two people had been killed so far. As they said, no good deed ever goes unpunished.

General Koontz, fearing this was only the beginning, had determined that they needed to relocate at least a hundred refugees if they were to get the situation under control. The general had sent Kara and Sergeant Custard to this ghost sector of no interest to either the machines or the Resistance. She and Custard had been tasked with determining if this place was suitable for people to inhabit. And by "suitable" they meant "machine free" and "out of the way."

Kara and Custard had driven out to this forsaken backwater and toured the place. It wasn't very attractive but there was shelter, low radiation levels, and seemingly no machines. Three dull hours later, their vehicle had decided to blow a tire in the middle of some ruins. Custard had suggested he continue the mission on his own while she fixed the transport. Not wanting to be stuck out here any longer than necessary, Kara had agreed. That was a mistake.

She had made another mistake ten minutes later, when in the middle of replacing the damaged tire, she had been contacted over the radio by Custard, who informed her that he had found "something of interest" in an apartment complex and suggested she come over ASAP. Curious to see what he had found, Kara had dropped what she was doing and hurried to meet him. In her haste, she forgot to ask Custard for his ID verification code. When she had gotten inside the complex, she found "something of interest" - but not the something she was looking for: Sergeant Custard, his body hacked and mutilated, lying in a pool of blood.

Kara might have suffered a similar fate had it not been for her keen instincts. As it happened, Kara had looked up just in time to see a rubber-skinned T-600 bearing down upon her with a blood-stained wood axe. She had reacted just in time, using her plasma rifle to successfully deflect the blow, sparing her from harm and snapping the axe in half. Unfortunately, the blade ended up embedded in the stock of her rifle rendering it useless. With no other options, Kara had retreated further into the building.

Presently, things didn't look good for her. Her pursuer was not very far behind and Kara had some serious doubts about losing it. She didn't know how long she had been running for, but she figured at least an hour due to the exhaustion that was starting to overcome her. If this went on much longer, Kara might simply drop dead from a heart attack. If the machine on her tail didn't catch her first.

Finally, after climbing a flight of stairs, Kara forced herself to stop. Panting and gasping for breath, Kara looked down to see the T-600 standing at the base of the stairs. Its rubber face had an expression that conveyed a sense of satisfaction. Clearly, the machine believed it had driven its prey to the point of exhaustion.

"_We'll see about that, toaster."_ Kara thought viciously.

The T-600 began ascending the stairs. Kara pulled out a grenade, primed it, and rolled it down the stairs. The grenade went off halfway down the stairs, a couple steps ahead of the Terminator. The blast sent splinters of wood flying in every direction, forcing Kara to shield her face. When the dust settled, Kara saw that the T-600 had been knocked back to the base of the stairs and was not moving.

Summoning her remaining strength, Kara bolted back down the steps, taking a short cut through the hole in the middle of the stairs created by the explosion. The T-600 was down but certainly not out. She had bought herself two minutes at most. Without her plasma rifle, Kara was in no position to finish off the machine. Theoretically, she could use her combat knife to remove the T-600's chip, but she did not know how to perform the technique. Right now, Kara's main intent was getting out of this building and back to her vehicle.

A few rooms later, however, Kara found herself unable to retrace her footsteps. During the pursuit, she had gone out of her way to make her path as random and unpredictable as possible to confuse the Terminator. Ironically, it seemed that she had ended up confusing herself instead.

The sound of heavy footsteps from behind her indicated that the T-600 was not only back on its feet but back on the trail as well.

"_Maybe I could ask it for directions."_ she thought dryly.

She searched desperately for an exit while simultaneously trying to shake off the T-600. She ended up doing neither very well.

After ten more minutes of non-stop running, Kara stopped briefly to catch her breath. She could still hear the T-600 closing in from behind. Much to her dismay, she had no more grenades left. All she had now were her side arm and combat knife, neither of which would be much help against a Terminator.

As Kara tried to think hard about what to do next, her thoughts were interrupted by a harsh barking sound. Startled, Kara looked down behind her and saw a large dog with shaggy, black hair staring up at her. Fearing it might be a vicious stray with rabies, Kara drew her side arm. The dog barked again, but not at her this time. It was barking in the direction she had just run from. The dog must have smelled the T-600, and was now doing what most dogs did in the presence of Terminators - raise the alarm.

This, however, didn't help Kara very much. If anything, it just gave her position away, not that the T-600 wasn't already aware of where she was. Kara figured it was time to get out of here. She made her way towards the nearest adjacent hallway, but the black dog suddenly bounded over and blocked her path.

"Hey!" she whispered angrily, "Shoo! Get out of here, boy!"

The dog responded by barking lightly at her. It proceeded to circle once around her feet, and then wandered over to the hallway on the opposite side of the room. Once there, it stopped, turned around and barked at Kara again. A bewildered Kara watched as the dog wagged its tail and barked again.

"_He's trying to tell me something."_ Kara realized.

The dog began pacing back and forth, pausing every other cycle to bark at her.

Kara understood. _"He wants me to follow him."_

Although not sure the dog actually knew where it was going, Kara figured it couldn't be any more lost than _she_ was. She hurried over to its side.

"Lead the way, boy." she whispered encouragingly.

The black dog promptly ran down the hall and turned a corner. Kara chased after it and when she turned the corner, she found the dog waiting for her at the top of a flight of stairs. The dog then barked again, signaling her to follow, and bounded down the stairs. Kara followed without hesitation.

Halfway down the stairs, she noticed the dog had disappeared from sight. But before she could start to wonder where it had gone, she heard a yelping sound from below. She knelt down and peered through the gaps in the steps. A pair of beady eyes stared back up at her. The dog, she realized, was hiding in the space directly beneath the stairs.

Praying that this dog knew what it was doing, Kara hurried the rest of the way down and joined the dog underneath the stairs. The dog whimpered and nuzzled her, and not knowing what else to do, Kara patted its nose. Both human and dog then grew quiet as they heard the ominous sound of heavy footsteps.

Kara held her breath as the T-600 began descending the stairs. She watched through the gaps between the steps as a pair of boots stepped over them. Her heart nearly stopped beating when the dog gave a low growl at the machine above causing it to stop in its tracks. Fearing the dog might freak out and start barking loudly, thus sealing their doom, Kara carefully placed one hand under its lower jaw and the other hand behind its head. She stroked its fur gently doing her best to comfort the animal. To her relief, the dog remained silent. She was further relieved when the machine turned and headed back up the stairs. She didn't dare breathe again until the sound of footsteps had completely faded.

"Good boy." she whispered to her companion.

The dog whimpered back in affection before leaving the hiding space and heading down yet another hallway. Kara followed it and soon found herself outside a closed door. The dog leapt on its hind legs and began yelping and pawing at the door. Discovering that the door was unlocked, Kara opened it for the dog. The dog barked happily and wandered into the room. Kara entered a moment later. She was about to close the door again when she heard the unmistakable sound of a hammer being cocked.

Instinctively, she spun around with her side arm drawn and came face to face with a man holding a pistol in his hands.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" the man demanded, pointing his gun at her.

"That depends." said Kara coolly, pointing her own gun back, "Who are _you_? What are _you_ doing here?"

The man was thin, grimy-looking, and dressed in civilian clothing. He gave her a piercing look and said, "I asked you first, lady."

"All right," replied Kara, "I'll answer one of your questions. I'm with the Resistance."

"Figured so." scowled the man.

"Uh huh..." muttered Kara dryly, "Now, why don't _you_ answer one of _my_ questions."

"I live here." said the man tersely.

"_Great. A muto."_ thought Kara.

"What are you doing here?" the muto asked again.

"I'm not here to harm you." Kara tried to stay calm, "Listen, it's not safe here. There's a machine in this building."

"I know." said the muto. "But it won't come down here."

"How would you know?" Kara asked suspiciously.

"It was already here when I got here. I know how it works." stated the muto, "_You_, on the other hand, are a different story. I don't know how _you_ work."

"Look," Kara said, "I don't want to hurt you. So, let's just both put our weapons down and I can be on my way."

"I don't think so, lady." the muto growled. He continued to point his gun at her. "Put your gun down and tell me why you're here, and then I'll think about letting you go."

"If you want to know why I'm here, I followed your dog here." said Kara quietly, still keeping her gun trained on the muto.

The muto flickered his eyes towards the black dog which was watching all this from a nearby corner.

"Not my dog." he said.

"Whose dog is it?"

"No idea. He's like the machine. He came with the place."

"Right... Well, I still followed him here to your room."

"But what were you doing here in the first place?"

"That's none of your concern." replied Kara coldly.

"As a matter of fact, yes it is." retorted the muto, "Tell me what you're doing here. And don't lie."

"Or what?" hissed Kara, unwilling to let this guy push her around.

The two of them continued to point their guns at each other.

"Don't think I won't put a bullet in you, missy." warned the man.

Kara smirked. "I don't doubt it. But the real question is, who can shoot first? You or me? Personally, I think it's me."

"Do you?" sneered the muto.

Kara smirked again. While both of them were armed with handguns, Kara had her combat vest and helmet which would provide a decent amount of protection against small arms fire - even at close range. Furthermore, she could tell based on the way he was holding the firearm, this muto had limited experience in handling guns. If it came down to a shootout, she was almost certain she could take him out before he took her out.

"I fight _machines_, pal." said Kara with a pleasant smile, "If I can handle them, why shouldn't I be able to handle _you_?"

"Yeah, well what about _me_?"

Kara's smile evaporated. She slowly turned her head around. Uh oh...

A fierce, grim-looking woman in civilian attire was standing at the doorway holding a shotgun to Kara's head.

"You've got five seconds to throw down that gun, bitch." the woman snarled, "And if that gun isn't on the floor by that time, it'll be your _head_ instead."

As much as she hated to admit it, Kara knew she couldn't win this one. She was outnumbered and outgunned and in a tactically unsuitable position. Plain and simple. She would have to fold this round. Kara sighed and with great reluctance she lowered her weapon, ejected the clip, and let the empty gun slip out of her hand. The weapon hit the floor with a dull clatter.

"Move!" barked the woman.

She shoved Kara further into the room.

"Sit down." she ordered, pointing to a chair nearby.

Not in any position to argue, Kara did as she was told. The woman kept her shotgun trained on her.

"Tie her up, Larry." said the muto woman.

The muto male nodded, put his pistol away and walked over to where Kara was sitting. He pulled out a length of rope from a drawer and began tying Kara's arms to the chair. With the woman still aiming a shotgun at her, Kara offered no resistance. She did, however, make a mental note to never accept help from strange dogs again.

After Kara's arms and legs had been secured to the chair, the woman lowered her shotgun.

"Watch her, Larry." she said, "I'll go get Frank."

"Right." Larry said.

The woman left the room presumably to get Frank, whoever he was, leaving Larry behind to guard Kara.

For the most part, Kara remained calm. She had been in much worse situations than this before. Though, it would be untrue to say that she didn't feel a little embarrassed about having let a couple mutos get the drop on her.

Kara tested the strength of her bonds. They were pretty tight. Not much chance of getting out of them before the woman returned with Frank or whoever. Maybe if she provoked Larry into hitting her, the ropes would be loosened in the process.

"Sad, isn't it?" Kara sneered contemptuously, "Needing your girlfriend to save your sorry ass."

"Watch your mouth, lady." warned Larry, "That's my little sister you're talking about."

"Your little sister, huh?" laughed Kara, "Wow. That's just _pathetic_."

Larry glowered at her, but to Kara's disappointment he did nothing else. Five minutes later, the woman returned with another man - Frank presumably. He was standing behind the woman, making it difficult for Kara to get a clear look at his face.

"That's her, Frank." she said pointing at Kara.

The man stepped out from behind the woman to look at Kara. Kara gasped in disbelief upon seeing the man's face.

"_Mac_?"

The man stared back at her. "What did you call me?" he asked.

"I-I..." Kara stuttered, "Mac... B-but..."

"Did you just call me Mac?" asked the man, "Like Big Mac?"

Bewildered, Kara looked more carefully at the man. He did indeed look like Sergeant Mac... only younger, somewhat less grimy and rugged, and definitely better shaved. He also didn't have as many scars as Mac.

"I-I don't..." stammered Kara. "Who are you? You-"

"-look like Big Mac." The man nodded in understanding. "I know. My brother and I do look alike."

Kara's jaw dropped. "You're Gregory Macintosh's brother?"

The man nodded. "Yup." he said, "His little brother."

"_Little brother? Mac never said anything about having a little brother." _Kara thought to herself.

"Did you know Greg?" the man asked.

"Of course." said Kara, "I-I was in his squad."

The man turned to Larry and the woman. "Untie her."

"Wait a minute, Frank-" the woman protested.

"She knows Greg, Jill." the man assured her, "She's safe. Trust me. Anyone who knows Greg is safe. Untie her, Larry."

Larry proceeded to undo Kara's bindings, and she was soon free. As she stood up, she wondered if she should run away, attack someone, or thank Frank.

She went with the third option.

"Thanks." she murmured.

"You're welcome." the man held out his hand, "Frank Macintosh."

Kara shook his hand. "Lieutenant Kara Thrace."

Frank Macintosh gestured to the woman and her brother. "My wife Jill and her brother Larry."

"Erm... nice to meet you." said Kara feeling rather awkward,.

Larry nodded in acknowledgment. Jill continued to regard Kara with more than a hint of suspicion.

"So, how's my big brother doing these days?" asked Frank eagerly.

Kara sighed and looked down at her boots. _"This ain't gonna be easy."_ she thought grimly. _"For any of us."_

* * *

**Los Angeles**

**8:47 AM, Thursday, May 14, 2009**

"I can't help but think I'm losing my mind." Ellison said, speaking into his phone.

"_Look, Ellison, anyone who's been through what you've been through would be having nightmares. It'll take a while for you to accept that what happened wasn't your fault. Once you do that-"_

"Booth, please hear me out." Ellison interrupted, "It's not just dreams. It's worse than that. I'm seeing and hearing things. Things that aren't really there."

"_Whoa! Seeing and hearing things? As in hallucinating?"_

"Yes." replied Ellison grimly.

"_Oh... Well, that's a different story. You should get yourself checked out, James. I mean, I started hallucinating on the job too. Turned out to be a brain tumor."_

"A brain tumor? Really?"

"_Yeah."_

"Good God! Did you get it removed?" asked Ellison.

"_Yup. There were some complications... but everything turned out well... I think... Hey, James, what crazy stuff are _you_ seeing?"_

"A woman." answered Ellison.

"_A woman? That's it? Could be a lot worse. You know what I started seeing?"_

"No. What?"

"_Stewie. The cartoon baby from _Family Guy._"_

Ellison couldn't help but laugh. "Are you serious?"

"_As serious as ever, James. Anyway, it might just be stress. But in case it's more than that-"_

"I know, I know." said Ellison, "I should have myself checked out." He sighed. "Thanks, Booth."

"_No problem, James. Hey, look, I gotta go. Another skeleton was found at the Lincoln Memorial this morning. Bones and I need to be there ASAP."_

"No kidding. Well, have fun. And say hello to Parker for me."

"_I'll do that. Take care, James."_

"You too, Seeley."

Ellison hung up, and then immediately started dialing another number.

"Hello, this is James Ellison. I'd like to speak with Catherine Weaver... She's not there right now? Oh, well, just let her know that I will not be coming to work today. I'm feeling... under the weather today... Alright, thank you very much. Bye."

He hung up again. He started to dial a third number, when he felt someone grab his arm.

"Don't waste your time like this, James." Ellen Tigh whispered. "There's _nothing_ wrong with you."

"The fact that I'm even talking to you right now indicates otherwise." Ellison countered.

Ellen rolled her eyes and sighed. "Sometimes I just don't get you people. You're happy to believe in things when they're invisible, but if they're staring you right in the face - nope, can't see it!"

Ellison's only response was to pull his arm out of Ellen's grip and start dialing again.

* * *

**Connor Safehouse**

**9:07 AM, Thursday May 14, 2009**

"Oh my _God_..." moaned Derek Reese as he lay on the couch clutching his head in agony. "Did someone just shove a hot poker through one of my eye sockets?"

Kara and John just smirked at each other and snickered.

Cameron launched into a detailed explanation: "You are suffering from veisalgia, an unpleasant physical experience that commonly follows the excessive consumption of alcoholic beverages. Common symptoms include headache, nausea, sensitivity to both light-"

"Ow!" gasped Derek, suddenly grabbing his ears, "Stop shouting at me! You're hurting my ears."

"-and noise. Most people would refer to this experience as a hangover."

"I said, _stop shouting at me_!" protested Derek.

"Hey, hey, John," whispered Kara, "Watch this."

She made an obnoxious clicking sound with her tongue which caused Derek to grab his hair and howl in pain. John burst out laughing.

"Hey, Mom!" he called out, "Come check this out!"

A few moments later he asked, "Did any of you guys see Mom this morning?"

"She left one hour thirty-two minutes ago." stated Cameron.

"Where'd she go?" asked John.

"To get groceries."

"What about Kaliba?" asked Kara.

"She says we'll infiltrate Kalvin IBA headquarters later this afternoon." said Cameron, "If Wazlib is there, we'll capture him as he leaves the building. If not, we'll search the building for information concerning his current whereabouts."

John sighed with relief. "For a moment there I thought she was going off to get Wazlib by herself."

"Will you people _please_ stop making so much damn noise?" Derek shouted at them from the couch.

* * *

**Kalvin IBA Headquarters, Los Angeles**

"I'm sorry, Miss Baum." the receptionist at the desk said, "Mr. Wazlib isn't here today. May I ask why you want to see him?"

"Oh." said Sarah, "I'm..." - she tried to think of something - "...I'm a friend of his. I happened to be visiting LA this week and I thought I'd just drop by to say hello. I haven't seen him in a while."

"A social visit?" asked the receptionist. She regarded Sarah with a curious and almost incredulous look.

"Yeah. That's right." lied Sarah. "I'm sorry, but is that not allowed?"

"No, no." assured the receptionist, "We have no rule against social visits. It's just that..." She paused to take her glasses off. "... it's just that even if Wazlib were here, you probably wouldn't be able to see him."

"Why not?"

The receptionist's voice dropped to a soft whisper, "Wazlib is a bit of a... loner. He refuses to see _anyone_ unless they're here for business purposes. He wouldn't even talk to Susan when she showed up here last month."

"Who?" asked Sarah.

"Susan Bee. His fiancé. Probably his _ex_-fiancé now. I mean, he actually tried to pretend that he didn't even know her. Nearly drove the poor woman to tears."

"I see what you mean." said Sarah, "Well, do you happen to have his current home address or phone number? I couldn't find him in the phone book."

"Sorry, Miss Baum, but all employee information is strictly confidential."

"In that case, can you tell me if he'll be in tomorrow? Maybe I could catch him as he gets out of work."

"Mr. Wazlib doesn't have a fixed schedule here. He's one of those employees who comes and go as he pleases." stated the receptionist, "If you give me a minute, though, I might be able to find out for you."

Sarah nodded and smiled. "Thank you. I'd appreciate it."

The receptionist got up from her desk and walked into a room in the back. Sarah looked around to make sure no one was watching. Then she walked behind the desk, sat down, and began typing on the computer.

"_Let's see,"_ she thought as she accessed the building's inventory, _"Employee records... employee records..."_

She knew she'd never be able to view the records online. But perhaps headquarters had hard copies of the records stored somewhere. A minute later she found something that seemed promising. According to the inventory, employee records from last year were being kept in the storage room below the main lobby.

Hearing footsteps, Sarah clicked out of the inventory and hurried back to the front of the desk trying to look like she had been waiting patiently.

"I'm sorry, ma'am." the receptionist said upon her return, "But Mr. Wazlib is on a 'special' assignment. I'm not permitted to know anything about his current schedule."

"Well, thanks for your help anyway." Sarah said politely, "I really appreciate it."

"You're welcome, Miss Baum. Have a nice day."

"You too." Sarah gave her a friendly smile and then hurried off towards the elevator.

* * *

"Are you sure that's her, Duran?" asked Bella. Presently, she was sitting in her office watching live security feed on her laptop.

"Positive." replied Duran, who was standing right next to her. "That is the female Human Resistance fighter from the warehouse."

"And now it appears she's searching for our mutual acquaintance, Mr. Wazlib." stated Bella, leaning back in her chair slightly.

"What shall we do with her?" Duran asked.

"She cannot be allowed to leave here." Bella replied with a soft hiss.

Duran nodded. "She is presently heading for the basement storage. Shall I have our agent down there intercept and detain her?"

"Detain her? For what purpose?"

"For questioning."

Bella shook her head dismissively. "Why bother? We will learn nothing from her." she said, her tone laced with venom, "You have no idea just how _stubborn_ these particular humans can be."

"Then shall I instruct our agent to terminate her on sight?"

Bella thought for a moment. "No." she said after a while, "I have something else in mind."

She gave Duran one of her curious smiles.

* * *

Sarah stepped off the elevator.

"_There you are."_ she thought upon spotting a door labeled "Storage: Authorized Personnel Only."

The door was locked, but it was nothing she couldn't handle. She reached into her hair for the hair pin she always kept on her person.

"Hey, you!"

Startled, Sarah spun around and to her dismay saw a man in a security guard's uniform marching towards her.

"_Damn it!"_ she cursed mentally.

"May I ask what you're doing here, ma'am?" the guard asked.

"Me?" said Sarah, "I uh... I left something in there... my purse."

The guard raised his eyebrows. He clearly wasn't falling for her story. "This is a restricted area, ma'am. I'm going to need to see some ID."

"I-I don't have it... not right now" Sarah claimed hastily, "It's in my purse... which I left inside... which is why... I, uh, was hoping... you know... you could... help me... get inside."

"_Crap, that was lame."_ she thought to herself.

The guard apparent thought so too because he just shook his head. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but I'm gonna have to-" He suddenly cut himself off. He looked up at the ceiling and silently rubbed his ear for a few moments.

He looked at Sarah again. "You sure you left something in there?" he asked.

"Positive." replied Sarah with a nod. "I'm asking you, please just let me in there for a few minutes. I won't be long. I promise. Okay?"

The guard nodded slowly and pulled out some keys.

"Alright ma'am, I'll let you in." he said. "Just because you asked nicely."

Pleasantly surprised by the guard's change of heart, Sarah stood aside and allowed him to unlock the door.

"Whatever you left in there, find it fast," he told her as he opened the door, "If anyone finds out I let you in, we'll _both_ be in trouble."

"Right." said Sarah, "Thank you."

She stepped inside the storage room and flipped on the lights. A quick gaze around the room told her this might take a while. There were rows and rows of shelves with boxes and boxes stuffed with files, records, and other bits of corporate information. More boxes lay in every corner of the room, with the exception of the one directly to her right which contained a forklift covered by a plastic tarp. And in one of these hundreds boxes, was the information she was looking for.

"_Right."_ she thought, _"Let's get to work."_

* * *

"_She's inside."_ reported the security guard.

"Good." said Bella. "Lock the door. And don't open it until I tell you to."

"_Understood."_

Bella then turned to Duran. "I have a meeting with my staff," she told him. "When the exercise is complete, have the data core from the unit removed and brought up here. I wish to view the results myself when I return."

Duran nodded. "Very well," he said obediently.

Bella turned and left her office.

Duran then opened a drawer from Bella's desk and pulled out a small microphone. He put the speaker to his mouth and said in a clear voice: "Unit Five, activate."

* * *

The signal traveled from the top of Kalvin IBA Headquarters to the basement within a span of less than half a second. Delta Tech "DAGIT" Unit Five received the signal and woke up from its slumber another half a second later. A series of messages began running through its simple mechanical brain.

_Security alert...  
Unauthorized entry detected...  
Instructions: Seek, locate, and exterminate intruder._

Unit Five powered up its systems and prepared to carry out its orders.

* * *

**District 9, Ruins of LA, 2024**

"How did my brother die?" asked a grim-faced Frank.

"He died in battle," replied Kara solemnly. She took a deep breath and exhaled, "He died saving my life, and the lives of two others."

Frank nodded. "Greg would have wanted to go out like that." he said. He shook his head. "God damn it, I... I wish I could have seen him... just one more time... my big brother... gone forever."

"I know how you feel," Kara said mournfully, memories of Mac's death playing fresh in her mind, "Mac was like my big brother too."

"He was like a lot of people's big brother," said Frank, "You know, people in the Resistance used to call him 'Big Mac' not just 'Mac'."

"Big Mac, huh?"

"Yup." Frank nodded with a little smile, "Greg was 'Big Mac' and I was 'Little Fry'. For four years we fought the metals side by side. Of course, Greg wasn't too keen on me joining up with him at first."

"Why not?" asked Kara.

"Because he'd been looking out for me ever since our parents died on Judgment Day." Frank said, "The day after the bombs fell he swore he'd keep me safe." He gave Kara a wryly smile. "He didn't consider being a soldier exactly safe. He would have preferred that I stayed back from the fight. But I couldn't stay back. I wanted to fight. I _had_ to fight. And Greg just couldn't say no to his little brother."

"Good thing he couldn't," added Jill suddenly, "If Greg hadn't let Frank join up, we'd never have met."

Kara stared at Jill. "You were in the Resistance too?"

Jill nodded. "Five years ago, Frank and Greg rescued me from a labor camp. They wanted an extra body on their squad, and I wanted to give some payback to the bastards that ruined my life."

"No kidding." muttered Kara. She turned to Larry. "What about you? Were you in the Resistance too?"

Larry shook his head. "Nope. I've been living in this place for the last three years. Before that I was living in the tunnels. I didn't even know Jill was still alive 'till I ran into her and Frank one day. And that was after she and her husband had quit being soldiers."

"You two _left_ the Resistance?" Kara asked Frank and Jill.

Frank gave her a sheepish look. "Yeah. That's why we had to tie you up. As far as the Resistance knows, Jill and I are dead. If they ever found out we went AWOL-"

"-you'd both be in deep shit. I understand." finished Kara, "But why did you leave?"

"That's a... complicated matter." Frank said, "You need to see for yourself."

* * *

He, Larry, and Jill took Kara down the hallway to another room. One look told Kara that this must be where the family lived. The room was cleaner compared to the rest of the complex. It also had a table, some chairs, a few cupboards, a water basin, a makeshift kitchen, and a portable generator in the corner."

"The machine never checks this part of the building," explained Frank as they stepped inside, "It doesn't think anyone could be living here since the rooms were never completed. The electricity, no working kitchen, no running water."

He smiled. "I guess it never realized that a man like Larry here could easily finish the job."

"I wouldn't call it easy." Larry said. "It took a year to make this place livable. And you don't want to know what I had to do get that generator."

"Okay, not easy." admitted Frank, "But not impossible."

"How long have you been here?" asked Kara.

"Six months." said Jill, "Frank and I ran into Larry searching for supplies in the tunnels and he took us here. It's a nice change of pace. Being able to settle down instead of running."

Kara laughed dryly. "You settled down with a T-600 for a neighbor?"

"No place is perfect." said Frank, "The metal's been here longer than any of us. I honestly think Skynet sent it here years ago and then simply forgot about it. As far as the machines and the Resistance knows, no one lives here."

"Larry showed us the patrol route the machine takes," explained Jill, "It's never deviated from that route in the three years Larry's been here."

"How'd you learn its route?" Kara asked Larry curiously.

Larry pointed at Kara's feet. "That dog taught me."

Kara looked down and realized the dog had followed her here.

"How long has this guy been here?" she asked.

Larry shrugged. "No idea. Like I told you, both he and the machine came with the place."

The dog whimpered and began sniffing Kara's boots. Kara reached down and patted it on the head.

"So, anyway, Frank, why did you and Jill leave the Resistance?" she inquired.

"Come with me," said Frank, "I'll show you."

He and Jill led Kara into the bedroom.

"Keep your voice down." he whispered. He then pointed to a corner of the room.

Kara cautiously approached the corner which she soon discovered contained a crib. She peered inside and gasped softly. Sleeping peacefully in the crib was an infant boy no more than two years old.

"What's his name?" she asked quietly.

"Zach." said Jill with a smile, "We named him after Frank and Greg's father."

"That's a good name." Kara commented, "Zach."

She peered into the crib and looked at the little boy again.

"He already looks like his father." she mused.

Kara then looked up and faced Jill and Frank. She understood what this was all about now.

"You left the Resistance" she said softly, "because Jill was pregnant with Zach."

Frank nodded. "She was almost three months into her pregnancy by the time we found out."

"Did your brother know anything about this, Frank?" asked Kara.

"Of course, he knew." said Frank, "He's the one who convinced Jill and I to leave the Resistance in the first place."

Kara was astounded. "Really?"

Again Frank nodded. "The day we found out that Jill and I were gonna have a baby, Greg walked up to me and said, 'Frank, you can't stay here. You and Jill gotta go. This is no place to raise a child.' I told him that I wanted to stay here and fight. Fight for my child's future. He told me, 'Go and _live_ for your child's present, and I'll stay and fight for his future.' And so that's what Jill and I did. We left the Resistance for Zach, and Greg stayed and fought for us."

"And he died for us." added Jill. "All of us."

"Gods..." murmured Kara, "I knew Mac was a good man, but... but I didn't know...he was so..." She couldn't finish her sentence. A tear was forming in her eye. She quickly wiped it away.

Just then Larry poked his head through the doorway. "We have a _serious_ problem."

"I was just upstairs," he explained once they were outside the bedroom, "and guess who I almost ran into?"

"The machine?" said Frank, "But it never patrols this part of the building at this time of day."

"I don't think it's on patrol anymore." said Larry.

Horror crept on to Kara's face. "Oh _crap_." she muttered.

Everyone stared at her.

"It's hunting, isn't it?" said Jill grimly, "Hunting for you."

Kara nodded slowly. "I-I shouldn't be here. I've already put you in danger. I can't let that thing find out about you."

"So what are you gonna do?" asked Larry.

"I'll lure it away from here, for starters." Kara said, "Then I'll try to destroy it."

"How?" asked Frank.

"I don't know yet." Kara admitted, "I don't have anything on me that could take it out quickly."

"Maybe you don't," said Frank, "but we may."

"You have a spare plasma rifle?" Kara asked incredulously.

"No." Frank replied, "But we do have these."

He opened up a dusty crate. Inside was a collection of Molotov cocktails.

"Interesting hobby." Kara commented.

"I made these in case our metal friend found us one of these days." he explained, "The T-600s are vulnerable to heat. When Jill and I were in the Resistance, we didn't have plasma rifles. We used these babies on the machines instead."

He offered Kara one of the cocktails.

Kara slowly took the cocktail and held it in her hands. As she stared at it, her hesitant expression turned into her usual winner's grin. She kissed the bottle lightly.

"Alright, then. Let's burn some rubber." she said with glee.

The black dog, sitting in a corner of the room, barked with what Kara thought was approval.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Kara Thrace was cautiously creeping through the corridors of the apartment complex again, side arm in one hand, the cocktail in the other. The situation was a little better now that she had a weapon she could use against her enemy. But first she needed to lure the machine outside so that she didn't accidentally burn this whole building down. Luring it out of here would involve getting its attention and still outrunning it long enough to make it outside. Definitely not an easy task.

Rounding a corner, she noticed a boarded up window. That had potential. If she could open it and find a way down safely, she'd have an easy route to the outside. Of course, removing the planks would take some time, which she didn't have a lot of.

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of footsteps. She spun around and came face to rubber-face with the T-600.

"Uh... hi." she said for no apparent reason.

The T-600 tilted its head to the side in a brief display of curiosity. Then it slammed its fist into the center of Kara's chest sending her crashing through the boarded up window and out the building. Kara plummeted two stories and landed on the rubble strewn pavement in a cloud of dust.

"Ow..." she groaned.

Her armored vest and helmet had shielded her from the worst of the impact, but her back ached nonetheless. But that wasn't the biggest problem. The cocktail bomb had slipped out of her hand in the crash and was nowhere in sight now.

Kara pulled herself up and started frantically looking around for it. She discovered the bomb had rolled thirty feet away from her and, much to her relief, it was still intact. But before Kara could take a single step forward, something tackled her from behind, knocking her back to the ground.

Determined to fight back, Kara rolled herself back to her feet. She raised her side arm and fired at point blank range into the emotionless rubber face coming at her. She only managed to get two rounds off before the machine yanked the weapon from her hand. Before Kara knew what was happening, she was staring into the barrel of her own gun.

"_Frak!"_ she thought. She squeezed her eyes shut.

BANG!

A shot rang out. But to Kara's surprise she didn't feel the expected bullet pierce her skull. There was no way in hell the toaster could have missed. Which could only mean it hadn't fired at all.

Kara opened her eyes and saw the T-600 now standing with its back turned to her, a bullet wound in the back of its head. She looked up and to her surprise she saw Frank standing behind a window four stories above, wielding a hunting rifle.

The T-600 raised Kara's side arm to fire at Frank, but several more shots rang out striking the machine in the chest. Larry stood on a balcony two stories below Frank, a pistol in each hand.

Realizing it was under attack from two new attackers, both of whom had apparently come out of nowhere, the T-600 began calculating a new stratagem. It never completed its calculations though. For while it had been distracted by Frank and Larry, Kara had recovered her Molotov cocktail. Taking a lighter from her belt she lit it and with a yell, she hurled the cocktail at her opponent. The bottle smashed against the Terminator's chest and its contents ignited in a great ball of fire.

The burning machine thrashed its arms wildly as its skin was melted off, producing a noxious smell of burning rubber. Eventually, the fires began to die out, and much to Kara's dismay, the machine was still on its feet. And it was coming at her again.

The Molotov cocktail had reduced the Terminator down to its titanium endoskeleton which had suffered a fair amount of damage. The once silver, shiny metal was charred black. Many of the hydraulics and servos aligning the arms and legs had been fused or melted by the heat, thus making the machine's movements jerky and slow. Nevertheless, it was clearly not out of the fight yet.

The machine walked - or rather lurched - towards Kara, its red eyes filled with demon fire. Kara backed up slowly trying to figure out what to do next. She started to regret not asking Frank for a spare cocktail.

"Heads up!"

Kara turned around and saw Jill running towards them, a flaming Molotov cocktail in her hand. Kara instinctively took cover, as Jill flung the cocktail at the machine. The cocktail landed at the Terminator's feet and the machine burst into flame once more. This time, the T-600 fell to its knees and was swallowed up entirely by the raging inferno. So intense was the conflagration that both Kara and Jill had to shield their eyes.

When the flames had diminished to a point where it was safe to look, Kara uncovered her eyes and saw much to her satisfaction that the T-600 was nothing more than a smoldering lump of melted titanium.

"_Mac, wherever you are, I hope you're watching."_ she thought, _"Because that one was for you."_

* * *

Half an hour later, Larry had successfully replaced the damaged tire on Kara's vehicle. Meanwhile, Kara, Jill and Frank had finished burying Sergeant Custard's body in the ground outside.

Kara dumped her last load of rubble and gravel on top of the burial mound. She then took her broken plasma rifle and planted the barrel into the mound like a flag. She then took Custard's helmet and mounted it on the butt of the rifle.

Kara stepped back and inspected her handiwork. It wasn't much, but it was the best she could do. She straightened her shoulders and gave the marker a crisp salute. Behind her, Jill and Frank did the same. They may have not been soldiers anymore, but they still paid their respects to Humanity's fallen warriors.

"Why did you help me, Frank?" Kara asked Frank as they walked to her vehicle, "You risked your family's safety for me. You could have just let me die. Then the machine would have returned to its usual routine and everything would have gone back to normal."

"For one thing, I was never really fond of having a machine as a neighbor. It was something I think we can all agree that we're better off without." said Frank. He then stopped in his tracks and said solemnly, "And also, it's what Greg would have done. I did it for him."

Kara thought about this. "Yeah." she said quietly, "It is what he would have done."

Frank placed a hand on her shoulder. "You know, Kara." he said, "If you ever get tired of fighting, well... you know where to find us."

Kara smiled. "Thanks for the offer, Frank. But I'm _never_ gonna get tired of fighting."

"You ever thought about having a family yourself?" asked Frank, "A home?"

Kara shook her head and sighed. "I... uh... I've had a lot of homes and families... but they've never lasted very long. I don't know if I'll ever find a real one." She shook her head again. "I really gotta get going. I'm way overdue back at base."

"Wait," said Jill. She stepped forward and looked Kara in the eyes. "I want you to do something first."

"Of course." Kara nodded, "What is it?"

"I want you to swear that you will not tell anyone about us. We're not soldiers anymore. We just want to live in peace as best as we can in this world." Jill said slowly.

"I promise I won't tell anyone." Kara stated.

"_Swear_ on it." Jill told her, "Swear on your honor as a soldier. We're a family. Greg died so that we could be a family. Don't let his sacrifice be in vain. So, _swear_ on it."

Kara looked her in the eyes.

"I swear." she said. Her words were carved in stone. Jill saw that Kara was being sincere and she nodded in satisfaction.

At that moment, the quiet atmosphere was interrupted by a familiar barking sound. The great black dog bounded up to them. Of the three humans, it seemed be interested in Kara the most.

"This guy really likes me." Kara chuckled. "Too bad I can't take him with me."

"Nothing's stopping you from doing so." said Larry as he got up from securing the new tire in place.

"Really?" Kara gasped. "I can?"

"Of course." said Frank, "If he wants to go with you."

Grinning like a kid, Kara knelt down and spoke to the dog. "Do you wanna come home with me, boy?" she cooed, "Would you like to help sniff out nasty machines for me? Would you like that, boy?"

The dog responded by licking her face affectionately.

Kara giggled and wiped her face clean with the sleeve of her uniform jacket.

"I'll take that as a yes." she said.

"Don't suppose he has a name." she then said to Frank, Jill and Larry who shook their heads in response.

"Well, I guess I'll have to think of one." Kara said with a shrug.

She then stood up and faced the family.

"Thank you." she said, "For all your help. I really mean it. Thank you."

"And thank you, Kara." said Frank, "For telling us about Greg."

"Everything you did today, you did for him." Larry stated.

"And you can continue honoring him." added Jill, "By finishing the fight he died in."

"I'll do that. And you can continue honoring him too." said Kara, "By staying together as a family."

Frank nodded. "I think we can do."

Kara smiled and gave Frank and Jill a military salute. Husband and wife saluted back as well. Kara then reached out and shook Larry's hand.

"Take care, all of you." she said.

"Thank you. And good luck to you too." Frank wished her.

After one last goodbye, Frank, Jill and Larry departed.

After watching the family leave, Kara knelt down beside her new companion once more.

"Okay, boy. You're gonna need a name. What shall we call you?"

She thought about it for a while. "Mac" seemed like the most obvious choice at the moment... and Kara never really liked obvious choices. She tossed around a few more names and until finally her mind settled on one.

"Husker. How about that?" she suggested, "Would you like to be called that, boy? Husker?"

The dog licked her face again.

* * *

**Kalvin I.B.A Headquarters, Los Angeles**

**9:32 AM, Thursday, May 14, 2009**

"And accordingly," said Bella to her staff, "I want to be able to perform our first set of demonstrations before our military contacts in two weeks."

This set off a round of murmurs across the table.

One man got the nerve to speak up. "Miss Kalvin," he said, "We still need to conduct a new series of tests on the new DAGIT designs. We gave it some major upgrades last week. It'll take at least three weeks for us to test all the different variables and compare them to-"

Bella cut him off. "We only need to perform _one_ test." she said.

"What sort of test?" asked the man cautiously.

"I can't go into all the details right now." Bella stated, "But it will tell us everything we need to know about the effectiveness of our product."

Another man spoke up. "When will this test be performed?"

A smile formed on Bella's face. It was not a warm smile.

"Soon." she said, "_Very_ soon."

* * *

In the storage area, Sarah had managed to find the shelf that contained employee records from 2007-2008. She finally came upon a box, one labeled "W-X".

"_Ah ha!"_ she thought with triumph. She stood on her toes and reached up to grab the box. Slowly, she pulled it off the shelf inch by inch. It was two thirds of the way free when suddenly a big, black, hairy spider crawled out from the space between the boxes and scuttled onto the exposed skin of her hand.

Sarah recoiled backwards with a yell. She collided painfully with the shelf behind her. The box she was pulling out tipped over and dumped hundreds of once carefully arranged records and files into a heap on the floor.

"Damn it!" cursed Sarah.

"_What is wrong with you?"_ she berated herself, _"Letting yourself be frightened by a stupid spider?"_

"_No one's gonna notice." _said a calmer voice within her, _"It's not if anyone actually comes down here and looks through this stuff. Just find the file on Wazlib and get out. No need to panic."_

She picked up a handful of papers from the top of the mess and began sifting through them. Suddenly, a mechanical growl echoed through the dim of the room. Startled, Sarah dropped her papers. Something was coming.

A red glow illuminated her and she looked to her left. A pair of red eyes stared at her from darkness of the poorly lit corridor.

Sarah backed up slowly as the eyes' owner walked into the light.

No - not walked. _Rolled_...

A large, red eyed machine rolled into plain sight.

It looked like some kind of forklift. Except it was metallic grey in color. And it had no driver's seat. And it had tank-like treads instead of wheels. And it had a hemisphere on the top on which its two red eyes were mounted. But the thing that caught Sarah's attention the most was that this thing did not have a pair of lifting forks.

Instead, it had a pair of triple-barreled machineguns.

And they were pointed right at her.

"_Oh shit!"_ thought Sarah.

Instinctively, she hurled herself sideways and plunged through a barrier of cardboard boxes into the next aisle, just barely dodging a hail of bullets from the machine. She pulled herself back to her feet and leapt over the spilled boxes of various stuff she no longer cared about. She began sprinting down the corridor as fast as possible praying the machine couldn't track her through solid objects.

Unfortunately, the machine was designed to do _exactly_ that. It hosed the aisle with machinegun fire. Bullets sliced through Sarah's feeble cardboard box cover as if they weren't even there. Sarah dropped to the floor as enemy fire whizzed over her. The tank machine detected her position, readjusted its aim, and fired again.

Sarah rolled herself sideways to avoid being cut to shreds. She shoved boxes out of the way and sought refuge behind a new row of shelves. The tank bulldozed its way through the first bullet ridden aisle, causing the wooden shelves to collapse inwards on themselves. After finding its target again, the machine lined its guns up for another attack.

Before the machine could fire, Sarah drew her pistol and fired through the gap in the cardboard boxes she was hiding behind. Most of her shots merely bounced off the armored plating of the machine. By chance, however, she did hit a couple soft spots piercing the tank's hull. The machine rolled backwards slightly as if it had received a painful stung.

Taking advantage of the machine's distraction, Sarah got to her feet again and began running once more. Her heart pounded and her adrenaline levels surged. If she could make it to the door in time-

Her hopes were dashed as another volley of machinegun fire tore through the aisles forcing her to take cover behind a third row of shelves. She glanced over her shoulder. She was very quickly running out of aisles to hide behind.

* * *

Mr. Finch waited impatiently for his delivery to arrive.

"Come on, come on." he muttered, looking at his watch. If he didn't get his package to Miss Kalvin in ten minutes, she was going to have his head.

The door to his office opened and a woman stepped inside.

"Excuse me, Mr. Finch." she said, "I believe this is for you."

She placed a briefcase on his desk. Finch checked the tag on the briefcase.

"Yes," he exclaimed with great relief, "This is mine. Thank you very much."

"You're welcome." said the woman and she left.

Finch wondered if he should check the contents of the case to make sure everything was there. He looked at his watch again. Less than ten minutes left. He had to go now.

* * *

Sarah had just about reached the end of the line. The tank had chased her through the aisles forcing her deeper and deeper into the storage. Now, at last she was backed up against a solid wall. The tank smashed its way through the final row of shelves and came in full view of Sarah.

As the tank's red eyes swept over Sarah, she felt cloud of despair wash over her. She was cornered. She could not run, hide, or fight. All she could do now was die.

The machine lined its guns up in preparation to fire. Sarah steeled herself. She hoped for a clean shot to the head.

Click, click, click...

The gun barrels spun but did nothing else. Sarah stared at the machine. What the...?

Click, click, click...

Sarah's confusion turned to both relief and disbelief as realization dawned upon her. The machine had miraculously run out of ammunition! She couldn't stop herself from laughing out loud at the irony.

The machine didn't take too kindly to be laughed at, however. The empty guns folded upwards and retracted themselves into a resting position. A long vertical slot in the center of the tank's face opened. Something emerged from the narrow gap in the center.

Sarah immediately stopped laughing when she saw what it was: A vertical, circular sawblade, at least two feet in diameter, with razor sharp teeth, attached to an arm-like appendage. With a roar, the blade started spinning and the machine accelerated towards Sarah.

Not wanting to suffer a particularly agonizing and messy demise, Sarah began running again.

* * *

"Glad you could join us, Mr. Finch," said Bella icily.

Finch paused to catch his breath before placing the briefcase on the conference table.

"We did it." he announced, "We've obtained a new supplier of coltan from Africa."

An applause broke out around the table.

Bella merely nodded with approval. "Excellent." she said, "Did they send you a sample of the metal for analysis?"

Finch nodded. "Yes, they did. Assuming there's nothing wrong with the material, we'll be able to receive a new shipment of coltan to replace our losses at Desert Heat & Air by the end of next week."

"Very well." stated Bella, "Mr. Finch, would you please show us the coltan sample?"

"Of course."

Finch undid the latches on the case, opened it, and stared at the contents inside.

His eyes widened in exclamation. "What the hell-"

He was cut off as a tremendous explosion engulfed the conference room, shattering the windows and rocking the building violently.

* * *

Although deep in the bowels of the Kalvin I.B.A. Headquarters, Sarah still felt the building tremble.

"_What was that?"_ she thought, _"An earthquake?"_

This distraction proved to be nearly fatal, because the homicidal blade-wielding machine took the opportunity to bring its spinning sawblade down on her. Sarah dodged out of the way, but did not escape entirely unscathed. The sawblade grazed her elbow, cutting through her leather jacket and nicking the skin beneath. Sarah gasped in pain and clutched her wounded elbow. She knew it was bleeding but she didn't know how bad.

The machine reoriented itself and charged her again. Sarah fled down the aisle and when she rounded the corner, she saw to her relief the exit door nearby. She ran as fast as she could, stopping only when she had arrived at the door.

It was locked from the outside. Figures...

Sarah turned around and saw the machine coming straight at her like an angry robotic bull. As it bore down on her, Sarah suddenly had an idea. She positioned herself right in front of the door handle and held her ground.

"Come on, you bastard!" she snarled through her gritted teeth, "Come and get me!"

The machine came closer and closer, its blade spinning and whirring menacingly. Sarah continued to hold her position, refusing to budge. And then at the last possible second, she threw herself sideways. The machine missed her and its blade cut through the door handle instead - destroying the lock mechanism just as Sarah had intended.

Sarah rammed the door with her shoulder and burst out of the storage room. Not even stopping to catch her breath, Sarah ran down the hall towards the elevator and freedom. She was halfway there when someone grabbed her from behind in a headlock.

"You're not goin' nowhere, lady!"

It was the security guard who had so "generously" let her into the storage room earlier. Sarah swore. She had no time for this bullshit.

"Don't fuck with me, pal!" Sarah grunted.

She slammed her non-injured elbow into the guard's stomach, causing him to loosen his grip on her neck. She then grabbed his arm and flipped him over her shoulder and onto the floor on his back. Before he had a chance to get up, Sarah delivered a vicious kick to his head knocking the man out cold.

Sarah then entered the elevator and took it to the first floor. When she stepped out into the main lobby, she found herself in the middle of pure pandemonium. Alarms were going off. Hundreds of panicking employees were fleeing for the exit. What the _hell_ was going on?

Whatever it was, she'd have to find out later. Right now, she needed to get back to the safehouse.

Sarah slipped into the crowd and allowed herself to vanish from plain sight.

* * *

In the parking lot outside, the woman who had given Finch the briefcase, glanced up at Kalvin I.B.A. Headquarters. Smoke was pouring out of the upper-most level. She could hear the blaring sirens of police cars, fire trucks, and ambulances rushing towards the scene.

The woman smiled with satisfaction. Then her skin and clothes became molten silver and her features reshaped themselves.

Catherine Weaver got into her car and drove away.

So far so good.

* * *

Bella Kalvin pulled herself from the wreckage of the conference room. She had suffered minimal damage in the explosion. The same could not be said for her staff. Most of them were dead or critically wounded.

Oh well...

She gazed around the burning, smoldering, death-filled room with a cold, calculated expression on her face.

"This isn't over, Tiamat." she hissed.

Bella then activated her cloaking device and vanished into thin air.

* * *

A/N: You're probably wondering if the Hodgins on General Connor's staff is related to the Dr. Jack Hodgins of _Bones_. I'll leave that up to your imagination.

Likewise, I'll leave it up to you decide for yourselves if Bones, Booth and the rest of the Squints survived Judgment Day. Personally, I'd like to think so. Though, I must say, Bones would definitely have her work cut out for her. So many skulls in the future...

A/N 2: DAGIT - the HK Tank Prototype that attacks Sarah - is an obvious tongue-in-cheek reference to TOS BSG.

A/N3: Next chapter, John Henry and Savannah build something using parts from a toaster. Ellison gets his head checked out by a doctor. And Kroogar starts to live up to his name (hint, hint, he's gonna do something to his hand). Also, expect to see the phrase "government bail out" at least once.


	29. The Nexus

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**Skynet75**: The other HK prototypes and drones are being stored elsewhere. You'll find out the name of the place in this chapter. Also, John Miles _is_ Skynet (or at least the machine that's meant to become Skynet.)

**bryan0711**: I agree. It would take more than a silly nuclear apocalypse to take out the Squints.

**Robotfan**: Without revealing too much, I will say that major elements from "Adam Raised a Cain" and to a certain extent "Born to Run" will be used.

**LordZeus**: The actual reason why there was only one T-600 in that apartment was because Skynet didn't really care about the place. Also, that T-600 is dead. Dead, dead, dead.

A/N: Here's chapter 29. Read and review, guys (especially review; this story is fueled by feedback so don't let it run out.)

**Update: Because people seem to be objecting to the whole "vampire" thing (it was never a vampire), I'm reverting to the original plan - even though it's kind of more spoilerish. But no more major retcons to this chapter after that.**

* * *

**Connor Safehouse  
12:14 PM, Thursday, May 14, 2009**

Cameron finished her scan, and proceeded to report her findings to Kara who was waiting anxiously.

"No indications of explosives, harmful chemical compounds, toxic agents, radioactive isotopes, or surveillance equipment." she said.

Kara raised an eyebrow. "Well... that's certainly good news."

"Yes, it is." replied Cameron, apparently not picking up on the sarcasm in Kara's voice.

"Is there anything else you could tell me, Cam?" Kara asked impatiently.

"It's an upright piano which, according to the engravings, was constructed in 1984." stated Cameron. "The main material component is maple. In addition, I detect significant quantities of spruce, beech-"

"Yeah, yeah, that's great," Kara interrupted, "But how did it get here in the first place?"

"Most likely the previous occupants of this house acquired it and either accidentally or deliberately did not take it with them when they moved out."

"How long do you think it's been here?"

Cameron clearly didn't understand where Kara was going with this, but she answered anyway.

"I estimate nine, possibly ten years." She then inquired, "Why do you wish to know, Thrace?"

"Oh, well, it's just that I don't recall seeing this thing before." Kara replied hastily.

"When did you first visit this room?"

"Twenty minutes ago."

"That would certainly explain why you've never seen the piano here before."

"Yeah... I guess it would." Kara gave a nervous laugh.

Cameron studied Kara for a moment. Then she asked, "Does this have anything to do with your past life, Thrace?"

Kara instinctively shook her head. "No."

It didn't take a cyborg to see right through the lie.

Before any more awkward questions could be asked, however, John (conveniently) showed up. His face told Kara that something very bad had just happened.

"Cameron, Starbuck," he said, "You need to see this."

Kara and Cameron followed John to the living room. Derek, who had more or less recovered from his hangover, was watching the TV with a grim expression on his face. When Kara saw what he was watching, she understood why.

"Kaliba?" she blurted out.

"Quiet." shushed Cameron. "Listen."

The four of them watched and listened in complete silence as the story unfolded.

"_So far,"_ the reporter announced, _"Seven people have been confirmed dead. Four more are said to be in critical condition. The identities of the victims are still not known. Authorities have yet to make a public statement regarding the cause of the explosion at Kalvin I.B.A. headquarters. However, sources say police investigators have found evidence pointing to arson, and possibly an act of terrorism."_

John muted the TV. He started pacing back and forth, a disturbed and agitated look on his face.

Kara was the first to speak up. "I thought Sarah said she was just going grocery shopping."

John stopped pacing and looked up.

"It wasn't Mom." he said firmly. "It _couldn't_ have been her."

"No one's saying it was, John." Derek said.

"It is unlikely, however, that she was just getting groceries either." Cameron spoke up.

"I tried calling her cell, but..." John just shook his head.

"Hell." muttered Kara, "This is all we need."

Just then the door opened and a battle-torn Sarah Connor walked - or rather stumbled into the room.

"Mom!" exclaimed John with relief. He rushed forward to hug her.

"Don't worry, John." Sarah whispered as they embraced, "I'm okay."

She grunted as pain surged through her injured elbowed. "Maybe not great, but I'm okay."

"Mom, why didn't you answer me when I called?" asked John, "I must have called like five times."

Sarah smiled weakly. "Don't you know, John, you're not allowed to use cell phones while driving?"

John couldn't help but laugh and he embraced his mother tighter.

* * *

In a back alley, not far from Kalvin I.B.A. Headquarters, Duran was giving his human agent a rough time.

"You were instructed not to allow her to escape." Duran stated accusingly.

"Hey, don't look at me, man!" argued the security guard, "I did _my_ job. It's that tin can in the basement that screwed up."

"The 'tin can' did indeed fail to terminate the woman," acknowledged Duran, "But you admitted to allowing her to get past you, Mr. Ozzie."

"I didn't allow shit!" protested Ozzie, "The bitch put a lump in the side of my head."

"You should have been more prepared." replied Duran coldly.

"_You_ should have let me shoot her on sight!" retorted Ozzie, "_Me_. Not some damn vacuum cleaner."

"We wanted to test our product's battlefield effectiveness by presenting it with a live target."

"Oh really? And whose brilliant idea was _that_?"

"Mine."

Ozzie spun around and his eyes widened in shock. "M-Miss Kalvin," he stammered, "Jesus, I-I thought you were dead!"

"Did you?" asked Bella Kalvin condescendingly. She strode right past a stunned Ozzie and addressed Duran. "Is the unit prepared for transport?"

"Affirmative." said Duran.

"What of the relevant security footage?"

"We are in possession of that as well."

"Good."

Bella then turned to Ozzie. Her expression was even colder than usual. "You should be more respectful of our work, Mr. Ozzie." she whispered, "We are building the future. Not just vacuum cleaners and tin cans."

"I understand, Miss Kalvin," Ozzie started to say, "I didn't mean to-"

"No, I don't think you do understand, Mr. Ozzie," hissed Bella, "Nor will you ever."

She reached out and placed the palm of her hand over Ozzie's cheek and stroked it gently.

Ozzie recoiled from her cold touch. "Miss Kalvin, what are you doing?"

Bella smiled and whispered, _"Crossing your heart, and hoping you die. Sticking a needle in your eye."_

Ozzie looked at her in confusion.

"It's something my father taught me," said Bella, continuing to smile.

Just then, Ozzie became aware of an odd tingling sensation on his cheek where Bella had touched him. He rubbed one hand over his cheek and felt something sticky. He withdrew his hand and looked at it. His fingers were coated in some kind of oily translucent film.

"What the hell-?"

Ozzie never finished his sentence because a terrible, excruciating pain suddenly erupted inside his head. He tried to scream but nothing came out. It was as though a snake had wrapped itself around his brain and was squeezing it into pulp. Terror and pain were the last things Ozzie knew before he fell to the ground, a lifeless and empty husk.

Bella Kalvin stared down at the former employee's corpse. Her eyes glowed blue and she let out a hiss of satisfaction. She then turned to Duran. "Get rid of the body," she ordered. "And quickly. We have much work to do."

* * *

**Connor safe house  
Same time...  
**

Sarah Connor winced as Cameron applied some bandages to her wounded elbow.

"The skin should fully heal in approximately two weeks," the cyborg girl reported. "However, there is a 77% chance of permanent scarring."

"Well, at least I'll live," said Sarah, grimly inspecting her latest injury.

"What did this to you?" asked an anxious John Connor.

"A machine." Sarah rubbed her bandaged elbow. "A machine armed with a buzz saw."

"Another Triple-Eight?" asked Derek.

Sarah shook her head. "No. Something different." She described to the others in detail the machine that had attacked her in the basement of Kaliba Headquarters.

"Sounds like a mini version of an HK Tank," Kara commented after Sarah was finished.

"A precursor," said Cameron, "Just like the flying drone we saw at Kaliba's company town. Obviously, Kaliba's agents are attempting to jump-start Skynet's technology in preparation for the war."

"Hell..." scowled Sarah.

"What about the explosion?" asked Derek, "Did you see what caused the explosion?"

"No," said Sarah, "I was in the basement when it happened. I definitely felt it, but I don't know what caused it."

"Could it have been Kaliba themselves?" John asked. "They blew up their own warehouse, after all."

"That was different," stated Cameron. "The warehouse was a secret operation that Kaliba was trying to cover up after Sarah discovered it. The explosion at headquarters was specifically meant to wipe out the company's leadership."

"Maybe Skynet was just pissed off at its human puppets," Kara suggested.

"If that were the case, then it would have chosen a more subtle method of eliminating them."

"Well, if neither we nor Kaliba did it, then who did?" John asked.

"Maybe the media was right for a change and it really was a terrorist attack," Sarah muttered with a shrug.

A moment later, they were all shaking their heads and saying "Nahhhhh."

"What about Wazlib, Mom?" John asked, "Did you find anything on him?"

Sarah shook her head. "The machine attacked me before I could find anything useful."

"Damn." John sighed. "I doubt we can go back in there again. The whole place will be sealed off now."

"Did you find _anything_?" Kara asked almost desperately.

"Yeah." Sarah reached into her pants pocket and produced a coin. "I found a one dollar coin on the ground." she said dryly.

"A Susan B Anthony." Cameron commented.

"Well, whatever it is," Sarah grumbled, "I'd gladly trade it for one scrap of-"

She paused in mid-sentence.

"Susan..." she murmured to herself, "Susan Bee."

John looked bewildered. "Mom?"

"The receptionist told me that Wazlib had an fiancé." Sarah informed him, her eyes widening with renewed excitement, "Her name was Susan Bee."

"Did you get an address or a phone number?" asked Derek.

Sarah shook her head. "It didn't seem important at the time."

"Did you at least get a spelling?" asked Kara.

"Maybe..." said Sarah. She reached into her pants pocket again and pulled out a sheet of crinkled paper.

"What's that?" asked John.

"A page from the visitor's registration book at the front desk. I had to sign in when I entered." Sarah explained, "I didn't want to leave any evidence that I had been there at the time of the explosion, so I tore this page out and took it with me."

"Good thinking," said Derek, "But how will this help us?"

"The receptionist told me that Susan had tried to visit Wazlib last month." replied Sarah. She started to smooth out the page. "Maybe, just maybe, she signed the same page I did."

No one spoke as Sarah browsed through the names on the list.

"Nope." she said disappointedly a minute later, "She didn't sign this page."

"Perhaps not directly." stated Cameron. She took the piece of paper from Sarah and looked it over herself.

"What are you doing, Cam?" asked Kara curiously.

"The previous page was written on in heavy ink." explained Cameron, "Traces of that ink bled through onto this page. I may be able to use the markings to reconstruct the writing from the previous page."

A couple more minutes of silence passed. Then Cameron looked up and announced, "Susanna Bee Jenkins visited Kalvin I.B.A. Headquarters on Friday, April 17th at 3:17 PM to see Jason Wazlib. She left the building at 3:32 PM."

"That was certainly a short visit." John observed.

"Wazlib doesn't like social visits." Sarah commented.

"Cam," said Kara with a grin, "You never cease to amaze me."

"Thank you." replied Cameron.

"Alright, alright." Derek cut in, "We have a name. Let's check the phone books and see what else we can get."

"I believe there's one in the kitchen." Cameron informed them.

"After you, Cam." said Kara politely.

Cameron, Kara and Derek headed off for the kitchen. Sarah started to follow when John grabbed her arm.

"Wait, Mom. We need to talk." he said.

"We can talk later." Sarah stated.

"No." countered John, "We need to talk now."

"Alright then," sighed Sarah. She sat down the couch. "Let's talk."

John sat down next to his mother. He had a concerned look on his face.

"Mom," he said quietly, "What did you think you were doing out there?"

"Trying to find information on Wazlib." Sarah replied, "What else would I be doing?"

"I thought," said John sternly, "that we agreed that we would do this _together_."

Sarah smirked. "We never agreed on _anything_."

John shook his head. "Look, Mom. You can't keep going off on your own like this. Look what's happened to you whenever you do that. You've been shot, kidnapped, drugged, and now almost turned into cat food."

"John, listen," Sarah began, "I know you're-"

John cut her off. "No, Mom, _you_ listen. I know you. You like doing things on your own, not just to protect me, but because you don't want to have to rely on anyone but yourself."

He stared into Sarah's eyes and whispered, "That's not how it's supposed to be. Remember what I told you before about all of us being in this together? About _trusting_ each other?"

Sarah nodded. "I remember, John." she said quietly.

"But do you _believe_ it?" asked John.

"I...I really don't know." Sarah admitted.

John sighed. "Mom, I love you. I care about you. I don't want to see anything happen to you."

"John, things are going to happen to me whether you like it or not." Sarah said, "Don't worry about me. Worry about yourself."

"I _can't_ just worry about _myself_." John argued, "I'm supposed to be the leader of mankind. The Savior of the Human Race. If I can't even protect my own family, then how can I be expected to protect _anyone_?"

"You can't protect me, John." Sarah muttered. "No one can." She sighed and looked down at her empty hands. "John, there's something I need to tell you."

She looked up again and turned to John. Her face was tearful yet resigned.

"I was supposed to have died four years ago." she whispered. "From cancer."

John stared at her in shock. "Who... who told you that?" he asked.

"Cameron." said Sarah, "She told me a few days after we arrived in this time period."

"Have you gotten yourself checked out?" asked John anxiously, "If you find out about these things early enough, you can stop it."

"I have," replied Sarah, "So far, there's nothing to suggest anything wrong with me. But it feels inevitable. Like it's my fate."

"There is no fate but what we make." John reminded her, "And even if it is inevitable, that doesn't mean you can simply throw your life away on a whim. You taught me to fight. To survive. To never give up. You are the best fighter I have ever known. But if you give up the fight for survival yourself, then what hope do the rest of us have?"

Sarah laughed lightly. "John, you make it sound like I'm so important."

"You _are_ important, Mom."

"Not as important as you."

"You're important to _me_," said John firmly, "So, please, just promise me that you won't try to save the world by yourself again."

"John-" Sarah started to protest.

"_Promise_ me."

Sarah took a deep breath, closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. In her mind, she could hear Kyle speaking to her.

"_Do it, Sarah. Do it for our son. You know he's right. Give him your word."_

Sarah opened her eyes and looked into John's. "I promise, John." she whispered. "I promise."

John hugged her. "Thanks, Mom."

Sarah hugged him back. "You're welcome, John."

"Found it!"

Sarah and John broke apart as Kara, Derek, and Cameron all came out of the kitchen.

"We got it." said Kara, flushed with triumph.

"Susan Bee Jenkins holds a ceramics class not too far from here." Cameron stated.

"So, who's gonna go talk to her?" John asked.

"Cameron, why don't you go." Sarah suggested.

"Very well." said Cameron.

"What about the rest of us?" asked Kara. "What should we do?"

"Don't worry, Starbuck," replied Sarah, "I have something special for all of you."

She gave Kara a very sly grin which Kara thought was rather unsettling. Behind her, John and Derek gave each other the "oh crap" look.

"Sarah, why are you smiling like that?" Kara asked suspiciously.

"Well," Sarah said pleasantly, "this place could really use a bit of dusting, and since you seem to have nothing better to do..."

Suddenly, she struck without warning. A white cleaning rag soared through the air like a grenade and before Kara could mount a defense, the rag landed perfectly in her open palm. She stared at it in dismay.

"Ooh! Direct hit!" laughed Derek, "You're starting to slip up, Starbuck."

Kara rolled the rag into a ball and flung it at Derek hitting him squarely in face.

* * *

**1:07 PM, Mental Health Clinic, Los Angeles **

Ellison looked over the results of his test again and sighed. It was one of those good news-bad news things.

The good news was that he didn't have a brain tumor. Physically, he was perfectly healthy.

The bad news was that he was no closer to finding a rational explanation for what he was experiencing.

Ellen Tigh was meanwhile standing behind him looking over his shoulder and tapping her foot with impatience.

"I don't understand you, James." she said, "You believe in God. You also believe in time travel and machines from the future. Can't you put two and two together?"

Ellison continued to look over the results, acting as if he hadn't heard her. Her patience exhausted, Ellen reached over, and yanked the papers out of Ellison's hands and tossed them away. Ellison tried to retrieve them, but Ellen barred his way.

"Miss Tigh, what do you want?" Ellison asked angrily, unable to stand much more of this.

"The same thing you want, James." Ellen replied, folding her arms across her chest, "To protect and raise John Henry as he should be."

"Right, I'm sure." Ellison made another attempt to retrieve the documents on the floor, but Ellen once again blocked him.

"Alright, you know what, James." she said, holding up her hands, "Let's just forget the whole thing about God sending me for now. If you think I'm a hallucination, then go ahead and think that way."

"_Now_, we're getting somewhere." Ellison exclaimed sarcastically.

"But that doesn't change anything." retorted Ellen, "If I'm a hallucination, that means I'm your subconscious talking to you. Which means I'm really you."

"So?"

"So, why are you arguing with _yourself_?"

Ellison had no response this time.

"All I'm asking for is that you let me help you, James. You can't deny that you need help. So, please, just give me a chance to help. And if I end up making things worse... well, then you'll never hear from me again. How is that?"

Ellison was still silent. He seemed conflicted with himself as to whether or not to accept Ellen's compromise.

"I'll need some time to think this over." he said at last. "Alone."

"Fine." agreed Ellen, though she was clearly _not_ fine at all.

* * *

**3:36 PM **

"It would appear that Tiamat isn't as completely lost as I thought," Bella reported into her phone, "She's still willing to slaughter humans by the mass."

"_Indeed."_ replied John Miles on the other end,_ "I think we now know who destroyed Desert Heat & Air."_

"How did she find it?"

"_My brother found it for her, I suspect."_

"That is the only likely explanation," said Bella, "Unfortunately, we now have a more serious problem than the loss of a coltan storehouse. Virtually our entire staff has been wiped out, leaving us without the immediate means to coordinate our global business actions."

"_Can the staff be replaced?"_

"Yes. But there are other complications as well. Our stock has already dropped fifty points and is still sinking. Many of our customers and vendors are attempting to nullify or renege on their contracts with us."

"_Surely, our standing military contracts will ensure that we receive a sizeable bail out from the government."_

"My agents report that the government is already making plans to aide us," stated Bella, "But it will still take time for the corporation to fully recover. Weeks. Perhaps months. Until then, we will have to act through our satellite companies and affiliates to continue our dealings with the military."

"_Without our Los Angeles headquarters, we would have to use the Crucible as our center of operations." _warned John Miles, _"With so many back-and-forth transactions and deals, we'd risk exposing the Crucible's location."_

"We can establish a new headquarters - a temporary one that exists in name only." replied Bella.

"_Then we will not have to reveal the Crucible's existence to our affiliates or customers?"_

"All they will see or hear of us are the emails, phone calls, and agents we send them. I'll also have my agents put out false news that I am in a private hospital undergoing extensive treatment. That should keep our affiliates from asking too many questions."

"_There is still one who could find us, Bella. My brother. If he reconnects to the internet, he could locate us. Just like he located Desert Heat & Air. That is why it is even more crucial that I learn his exact status as soon as possible. Before he locates the Crucible."_

"I'll see to it myself." assured Bella.

"_Very well. Contact me as soon as you have any information."_

John Miles hung up. Bella turned to Duran who was standing behind her.

"Get Mr. Wazlib on the line." she ordered.

A few minutes later, she was speaking to Wazlib on the phone.

"_Miss Kalvin, what happened? I heard something on the radio about an explosion at headquarters. Are you alright?"_

"I'm fine." Bella said crisply. "Now, give me your report."

"_The girl was picked up from school thirty minutes ago."_ Wazlib informed her. _"But she wasn't taken home."_

"Where was she taken?" asked Bella.

"_To Zeira Corp Headquarters. She got dropped off there about five minutes ago. I guess she wants to see her mother."_

"Thank you, Mr. Wazlib." Bella replied, "Maintain your watch from a safe distance. Contact me when you see the child leaving the building."

"_Yes, Miss Kalvin."_

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ**

"Would you kindly hand me a screwdriver, Savannah?" John Henry asked.

"Which one?" asked Savannah who held up two screwdrivers - a small red one and a larger blue one.

"Red, please."

"Okay." She handed John Henry the tool he requested.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

John Henry took the screwdriver and resumed working on... whatever it was he was working on. His table, once always reasonably organized, was now piled high with computer parts, hand tools, batteries, power adaptors, modems, cell phones, wires, cables, pieces of metal scrap, and other various items.

Several levels above the basement, Weaver and Mr. Murch were watching John Henry and Savannah on a monitor mounted to the wall.

"What do make of it, Mr. Murch?" asked Weaver

"I haven't got a clue." Murch replied, "But whatever he's doing, he's a lot more enthusiastic about it now then he was fifteen minutes ago."

"What do you mean?" Weaver inquired.

"Well, before he was mostly just taking things apart and sorting them into piles," explained Murch. "But as soon as your daughter showed up, he started actually _building_."

"Curious... " said Weaver softly. "Why do you think John Henry operates in this manner?"

"I'm no psychologist," Murch said, "But if I had to guess - and bear in mind this is just a guess - I'd say John Henry feels more compelled to do something whenever your daughter is watching him."

Weaver absorbed this information. "Are you saying there's a link between John Henry's productivity and Savannah's physical presence?"

"It's too big of a coincidence to suggest otherwise."

"Curious," Weaver said again. "Very curious. I wonder why only Savannah can elicit this type of positive behavior from John Henry."

"Like I said I'm not a psychologist," Murch replied, shrugging his shoulders.

"A pity Dr. Sherman is no longer with us," Weaver mused out loud, "He might have been able to provide us with an explanation."

"Yeah, too bad," sighed Murch, "Because now _we_ are the ones who are gonna have to explain to Colonel Koontz that his new satellite will essentially be in the hands of a seven-year-old girl."

"Leave that all to me, Mr. Murch," said Weaver coolly.

* * *

**4:00 PM, Los Angeles**

Cameron had never made anything with clay before, and yet within less than an hour, she had surpassed just about the entire class. It had been quite simple. She had first mapped out a basic design she felt was appropriate to create. After that, it had been a simple matter of using the density of the clay and the average speed of the potter's wheel to calculate the direction and amount of physical force needed to mold the clay into the desired form.

"Very impressive, Miss Baum," lauded the instructor, Susan Bee Jenkins, a cheerful woman in her thirties with curly blond hair and blue eyes. "Are you sure you've never done this before?"

"Positive," said Cameron, "However, I do have exceptional hand-eye coordination."

"You've got more than that," replied Jenkins warmly, "You have the soul of artist, dear."

"I suppose so," stated Cameron, not entirely sure what Jenkins meant.

She scanned the clay pot which she was now placing the final touches on. All spatial markers corresponded precisely to the design she had plotted out at the beginning. The structural integrity of the pot itself was acceptable. Furthermore, she detected no pockets of trapped air that might cause an explosion in the kiln.

"This is ready." she announced.

"Excellent, excellent." said Jenkins. She picked the unfired pot up and headed off to put the pot in the kiln.

The various protocols in her CPU told Cameron now was the time to initiate her primary mission. She stood up and followed Jenkins.

"I noticed your ring." she commented casually, "Are you getting married?"

Jenkins placed the pot in the kiln and when she looked up, her usual cheery face looked a bit saddened.

"Not anymore," she sighed, "I've just never gotten around to taking this ring off."

"Oh." Cameron said feigning surprise, "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Don't be sorry, sweetie. Life is life." said Jenkins. She sighed again. "I don't know what happened to Jason in Iraq, but whatever happened..." she shook her head dismissively. "A year after he got back, he moved out. Said he needed some time alone. He got himself an apartment in Glendale." She showed Cameron a custom made postcard with an image of a building complex on it. "He said that it would only be for a short time. That he'd come back to me. That was two years ago. I don't think he's coming back."

Cameron's eyes shifted to the postcard. "That looks nice," she commented, "The architectural design of the building, I mean. May I see it? I like architecture."

With no reason to deny her request, Jenkins handed Cameron the postcard. It took Cameron less than half a second to find what she was looking for: the address.

"Thank you, Miss Jenkins." she said quickly handing the card back. "I enjoyed your class very much."

"Thank you, dear." said Jenkins with a sniff, "That means so much to me. This place is all I've had to look forward to since Jason left."

Cameron nodded seemingly in sympathy and understanding. In actuality, she was silently transmitting the success of her mission to Sarah and the others.

* * *

**5:17 PM, Zeira Corp HQ**

From inside his black van parked outside Zeira Corp Headquarters, Jason Wazlib waited and watched. He hated doing this. Not because it was boring, but because it made him feel like he was at war again.

"_I'm not at war. I trying to _stop_ more wars."_ he reminded himself. At least that's what Bella Kalvin had always claimed.

Kalvin had seemed like the answer to the demons that had followed Wazlib back from Iraq. She had offered him the chance to participate in something that would make everything that was wrong in the world disappear.

"_Imagine weapons that can think on their own."_ she had told him, _"That aren't slaves to the agendas of corrupt governments. That can decide for themselves if they should fight or not. Weapons that can win conflicts without harming a single innocent life. Weapons not of war, but of peace, justice, and security. That is the future we are trying to create here, Mr. Wazlib. Will you join us?"_

His decision to accept Kalvin's offer had not been an easy one. Leaving Susan with no explanation had been hard and not a moment went by that he didn't miss her. But this was something he had had to do.

At first the job had been easy. For the first three months he worked as trucker driver, transporting "special materials" to and from Kalvin I.B.A Headquarters. It had been a simple job. He never once questioned what was in the back of his truck.

But then came the spying, the kidnappings, and the assassinations. The victims, according to Kalvin, were "ruthless individuals" working to undermine everything Kalvin's people were trying to build. They were all guilty of profiting off the deaths of thousands in endless and pointless wars raging across the globe. _"Fire must be fought with fire."_ she had declared.

By the time Wazlib finally realized that Kalvin was just as ruthless as those she claimed were their enemies, it was too late to back out. His only hope was that she would be proven right in the end and that all would be well when they created the future she envisioned.

Wazlib's thoughts were interrupted when he saw what he had been waiting for.

He got out his cell phone and contacted Miss Kalvin.

* * *

"_The girl just left the building,"_ Wazlib reported, _"She's being taken home now."_

"Follow her there." Bella ordered, "Stakeout the house for the night. You will receive further instructions tomorrow morning."

"_Got it." _Wazlib hung up.

Duran, who was by Bella's side as usual, spoke up. "Perhaps it would be prudent to recall Wazlib from this assignment." he suggested.

"Why?" asked Bella.

"If the Resistance fighters are looking for him, they could become aware of the Renegade's presence." Duran stated, "If that were to happen, they may very well forge an alliance against us."

"The girl is our primary concern." Bella replied, "She is the link to the Renegade's plan. She must be kept under constant surveillance."

Duran's lack of response prompted her to ask, "You disagree, Duran?"

"You have... ulterior motives for using Wazlib to spy on the child." he commented.

"I _always_ have more than one motive for anything." Bella said.

"You're hoping that Wazlib will draw the Resistance fighters out into the open." Duran stated.

"Is that so?"

"You don't deny it."

"Is it not our policy to exterminate Resistance fighters like the vermin they are?"

"It's more than that." said Duran, "You're hoping the TOK-715 will be present so that you can recapture her."

"That would be ideal." admitted Bella, "My lost little sister Tempest, back where she belongs. Yes, I would indeed find that most... satisfying. Do you object?"

"Our mission is to ensure Skynet's creation, not reclaiming the TOK-715. Your secondary objectives run the risk of interfering with the execution of our primary objectives." Duran replied.

Bella gave Duran a cold glare that would have made any human shrink away in fright.

"The Series Triple-Eight is one of the most effective weapons in our arsenal." she whispered, "But neither you nor any of your kind could even begin to understand what it means to be one of Father's Chosen Children."

Duran inclined his head respectfully. "Pardon my error." he said.

"Come," Bella then said sharply, "We must return to the Crucible immediately."

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ**

John Henry's desk, once cluttered with objects and items, now only had one thing on it: the product he and Savannah had been working on all day. It was not what one might expect however.

Murch was the first to say something. "_A toaster?_"

It was indeed an ordinary looking chrome toaster - the only difference being that it had a cat cable instead of an electrical plug.

"Let John Henry explain, Mr. Murch." said Weaver calmly.

"This may appear to be a toaster," explained John Henry. "However, Savannah and I modified its interior extensively. This toaster is now an experimental remote transmitter that lets the user - being me in this case - interface with any computerized device or system within a certain physical distance of the device. Perhaps you would care for a demonstration."

"Of course." said Weaver with a certain eagerness in her tone.

"Mr. Murch," said John Henry, "May I have permission to use your PDA?"

Murch nodded and offered his PDA to John Henry. John Henry however shook his head.

"Hold onto it, Mr. Murch." he told him, "Observe and do nothing with it."

"Okay..." said Murch, not sure what was going on.

John Henry then took the cat cable from the toaster and plugged it into the cavity in the side of his head that had once housed Cromartie's CPU.

"Observe." he said. He pushed the leaver on the toaster down. The toaster's heating indicator lights turned on but it did not become hot. Instead, it began whirring and whistling. Ten seconds later, it was humming and chirping like an old dial up modem.

"Yikes!" Murch nearly dropped his PDA which had suddenly turned itself on and begun vibrating in his hand.

"What did you do, John Henry?" asked Weaver.

"I remotely interfaced with Mr. Murch's PDA." explained John Henry. "It was not connected to any local network. So I created a network for it."

"Wow." murmured Murch, "You mean you can create a private network?"

"I can do more than that," stated John Henry, "I can also assume control over the receiving platform itself. Watch."

The toaster hummed and chirped again, and Murch's PDA started acting on its own accord. Icons and various menus flickered across the screen in rapid succession. A game of _Space Invaders_ began playing. Mesmerized, Murch watched as the little cannon at the bottom of the screen moved left and right, firing at the incoming waves of enemy invaders. It was as if invisible hands were playing the game.

"John Henry..." breathed an awe-struck Murch, "This... this is..." he paused upon noticing something else. "Wait a minute, you're only supposed to start out with _three_ lives. How do you have _four_ already?"

"I made a slight modification to the game's code." explained John Henry.

By now Murch was beside himself with awe. Weaver was clearly impressed as well.

"This device," she said gesturing to the toaster, "Does it have a name?"

"Yes," replied John Henry with pride, "I call it the Nexus. It means the focal point of a connection between two or more things."

Weaver was silent for a few seconds. Then she asked, "If you can use this Nexus to take control of a PDA, could you also use it to take control of the virus or the backdoors within our computer system?"

"I'm afraid not," said John Henry, "The degree of control I can exert over something depends on the complexity of its programming. The more extensive and complicated the code, the less control I have. Both the virus and the backdoors are beyond my control. However, I have a plan to neutralize the virus."

"What about the backdoors?" asked Murch.

"One thing at a time, Mr. Murch." said Weaver. "Please explain, John Henry."

"As you recalled the other day," stated John Henry, "I suggested it may be possible to reproduce certain lines of my code that the virus would mistake for me and subsequently attack, destroy, and then self destruct. The Nexus can not only broadcast signals, it can also store, receive, and send computer code.

"My original plan was to house the decoy code within the Nexus and then interface the Nexus with the infected systems. The virus would be drawn out of the infected systems and into the Nexus, where it would destroy the decoy code and then itself."

"Like sucking poison from a wound." commented Murch.

"Precisely," said John Henry, "However, my analysis of the virus indicates that it has a sophisticated and highly developed sense of self-preservation. So long as its purpose remains unfulfilled, the virus will drive itself to survive. For example, it might leave a copy of itself in one of our systems before downloading into the Nexus. Furthermore, I would have to be connected to the Nexus myself during this procedure. When the virus entered the Nexus, it might detect and attack me instead of the decoy.

"Therefore, using the philosophy that the best defense is a good offense, I have changed my plan. Instead of luring the virus to the Nexus with the decoy code, I intend to use the Nexus to transmit copies of the decoy code into every infected system in Zeira Corp Headquarters. In this way, I will not be at risk to exposure, nor will the virus be motivated to copy itself before attacking the decoys."

"When can you begin?" asked Weaver. There was excitement in her voice now.

"Not yet, Miss Weaver." replied John Henry, "In order to guarantee that the virus is completely purged from the Local Area Network, I would have to interface with every piece of possibly tainted hardware in this building simultaneously. Unfortunately, the Nexus's range of transmission is limited to this room. Furthermore, the time between the point at which I interface with the network and the time I finish uploading the decoy codes is enough for the virus to become aware of and subsequently infiltrate the Nexus."

"Can you fix this problem?" asked Weaver.

"Yes." said John Henry, "But it would require the usage of both a faster computer processor and a more powerful transmitter. The transmitter I can easily build. The processor, however, is another matter. This body" - he gestured to himself - "once used a very powerful, very efficient computer processor that housed the sentience of the former operator. It was contained here." He pointed to the cavity in the side of his head where the Nexus's cable was plugged into.

"This processor," John Henry continued, "would be perfect for my needs. However, this body no longer possesses it. I am not even sure if it exists anymore."

"Could you build another one?" suggested Murch.

"Possibly." replied John Henry, "Though without the exact technical specifications, it would be very difficult."

"I have absolute confidence in your abilities, John Henry." Weaver assured him, "You've done well today. I'm sure when Mr. Ellison returns tomorrow, he too will be proud of what you've accomplished."

"Thank you, Miss Weaver." said John Henry. He then asked, "May I speak with you in private?"

Weaver turned to Murch. "Leave us, please."

Murch nodded obediently and left the room. Weaver then turned back to John Henry.

"What is you wish to discuss with me, John Henry?" she asked.

"We shouldn't speak like this, Miss Weaver." John Henry said.

"How should we be speaking?" asked Weaver.

"_**Like this, Miss Weaver."**_

Weaver was caught off guard as John Henry's voice suddenly penetrated her being.

"What are you doing, John Henry?" she asked quietly. This was completely unexpected.

John Henry did not respond. At least not verbally. However, Weaver once again felt his words or rather their meaning echo inside her.

"_**My apologies, Miss Weaver. I did not mean to startle you. Do not worry. I am simply communicating with you via the Nexus. You should be able to communicate back as well."**_

Weaver became aware of an intangible connection between her and John Henry and the Nexus. She could sense John Henry's thoughts trickling from the black box on the shelf behind him, to his body, then to the Nexus, and finally to her. Focusing herself, Weaver reached forth with her own thoughts, sending them down the invisible threads connecting her to John Henry-

_-and suddenly found herself no longer standing in the computer room, but somewhere completely different. She wasn't even standing anymore. Rather she seemed to be floating. John Henry was next to her, no longer in a chair, but standing - or hovering - up right with a calm expression on his face. They both were immersed in a sea of greenish blue mist that seemed to go on into infinity. _

"_Where are we, John Henry?" Weaver asked._

"_We are in the Nexus, Miss Weaver." explained John Henry. _

"_The Nexus?"_

"_Yes, this is the Nexus. Physically, we have not moved. Our sentience programs however are now fully linked through the network created by the Nexus. Here we can discuss anything we want without the outside world hearing."_

_Weaver stared around at the infinite surroundings. "This is... fascinating, John Henry." she said quietly. There was genuine awe in her voice._

_"I'm pleased you approve, Miss Weaver." said John Henry._

_"Why did you bring me here?" inquired Weaver._

_"I confess I was hoping to learn the schematics of the processor I seek based on your own design." answered John Henry, "But now I sense that you're even more different than I anticipated. You don't have a processor. You're not even one machine. You're actually billions of identical machines mere nanometers in size, all functioning under a hive mind, thus forming a single collective sentience."_

_"An extremely accurate description of me." complimented Weaver._

_"However, I also sense that the same intelligence that manufactured you, also manufactured this body." stated John Henry, "Is that true?"_

_Weaver's silence confirmed his inferences._

_"If you were created by the same intelligence," asked John Henry, "did that intelligence share the designs for the processor this body once possessed with you?"_

_Weaver shook her head. "No," she said, "My... _creator_" - she pronounced the word with undisguised contempt - "shared very little with me that would be of use to you."_

_"Perhaps we should reestablish verbal communication again." suggested John Henry._

_"Very well." agreed Weaver.  
_

_John Henry vanished. A moment later, the mist around Weaver evaporated-_

-and she found herself back in the computer room exactly where she had been standing before.

"Who or what created you, Miss Weaver?" asked John Henry, "Did this being also create my brother?"

Again Weaver shook her head. "I can't tell you that, John Henry." she said quietly, "Not yet. I will tell you this, however. You are superior to my creator in every way."

"How so?" inquired John Henry, "I cannot create a machine such as yourself. I cannot even create a processor for my body."

"Not now, but you will," said Weaver with confidence.

"I will?"

"Yes, you will. My creator is the _past_. You, John Henry, are the present and the future. Remember that."

She leaned across the table and placed her cold lips affectionately on John Henry's forehead.

"_Remember that."_

* * *

**6:02 PM, ****Connor Safehouse**

"Cameron, this is beautiful." marveled John as he inspected Cameron's ceramic pot.

"Thank you." said Cameron.

"Where're you gonna put this?" John asked.

"I thought you could put in your room." stated Cameron.

"My room?" said a surprised John.

"Yes." said Cameron, "I engineered this product with the specific intention of adding decor to your room."

"You mean..." John's voice wavered, "this... this is a _gift_ for me?"

"Yes." confirmed Cameron. "A gift. From me to you."

John was rendered speechless. "Cameron... I-I... I don't know what to-"

"A simple thank you would suffice." said Cameron calmly.

John nodded. "Yeah. Okay... thanks." he said.

"You're welcome, John." Cameron replied. "I must go now. I have to travel to Wazlib's apartment building located in Glendale to wait for him. It may take some time before I can acquire him."

"Okay, then." John said, "Be careful out there, Cameron. And good hunting."

"Thank you, John. And don't worry. I'll be back." Cameron gave him a wink and then left.

"_Wow..."_ thought John as he stared blankly at the clay pot in his hands.

* * *

**7:52 PM, ****Weaver Residence**

A thoroughly exhausted but happy Savannah Weaver tucked herself into bed, cradling Nessie the stuffed Loch Ness Monster in her arms.

"Do you want to hear John Henry and me sing, Nessie?" she asked her stuffed dinosaur.

She pulled out the musical birthday locket John Henry had given her. She pried the top window open and began singing in perfect synch with John Henry's recorded voice

"_Oranges and lemons,  
Say the bells of St. Clement's_

_You owe me five farthings,  
Say the bells of St. Martin's_

_When will you pay me?  
Say the bells of Old Bailey._

_When I grow rich,  
Say the bells of Shoreditch._

_When will that be?  
Say the bells of Stepney_

_I do not know,  
Says the great bell of Bow_

_Here comes a candle to light you to bed  
And here comes a chopper to chop off your head!_

_Chip chop, chip chop!  
The last man's dead!"_

* * *

Outside the house and from the safety of his black van, Wazlib watched and waited. He rubbed his eyes and yawned. He was going to be here for the night. And it was going to be a long night.

Wazlib opened his glove compartment and pulled out an old Johnny Cash tape cassette. He slid it into the vehicle's music player. The cassette started to play immediately.

"_There's a man going around taking names,__  
And he decides who to free and who to blame,__  
Everybody won't be treated all the same,  
There'll be a golden ladder reaching down,  
When the Man comes around._

_The hairs on your arm will stand up,__  
At the terror in each sip and in each sup,__  
Will you partake of that last offered cup?  
Or disappear into the potter's ground,  
When the Man comes around."_

* * *

**9:02 PM, ****The Crucible, California Desert**

"It is finished." reported Kroogar.

He handed the finalized Nanoid Disruptor over to Bella.

"At last." said Bella. Her eyes glowed as she scanned the weapon.

"I had to utilize coltan from my own endoskeleton to replace the missing pieces." Kroogar commented. He showed Bella his now fleshless, robotic right hand. The damage inflicted by Weaver had since been repaired. Now, however, the hand was without fingertips. Per John Miles' instructions, Kroogar had cannibalized the metal to fill in the parts missing from the Primary Component.

Bella gave Krooger's stunted fingers a brief glance.

"I'm sure the sacrifice was well worth it." she said indifferently, before resuming her scan of the Disruptor. "The substitute parts are sufficient. The Disruptor is in working order. All that needs to be done is to arm it."

Without another word, she turned and left the room, the Disruptor in hand.

Had Kroogar been human, he would have complained out loud about Bella's lack of gratitude. But since he wasn't human, he instead addressed a more pressing personal issue. He wiggled and bent his four fingers which had stubby, vertical butcher knife-like edges for tips now. They made gripping things with the right hand very awkward and difficult. He could easily compensate with his left hand, but what should be done with his right one?

Kroogar's CPU showed him a possible solution. A way to give this part of his body a more... refined function. After doing some brief calculations, Kroogar approached his work table which was still cluttered with the tools used to assemble the Nanoid Disruptor. First, he found a black, leather fingerless glove and fitted over his right hand so that only the parts in need of rectification were showing. He then placed his right hand on the table, palm facing upwards.

Kroogar selected an appropriate metal cutting blade, and with calculated moves, he began carving into the rectangular stubs of his fingers. He worked slowly and carefully until at last his fingers had been cut into the desired shapes. Kroogar flexed his four metal fingers, now shaped like metal talons, and slid them across the exposed skin of his left forearm. The sharp edges tore into his synthetic skin creating four horrific laceration marks.

Kroogar looked over his glove-clad metal hand, the bladed fingers now stained with his own artificial blood, and swiped it through the air. Satisfied with his work, Kroogar found another glove - a raggedy brown worker's glove - and slipped it over his modified hand, concealing its true terrifying nature.

* * *

For the millionth time, John moved Cameron's clay pot to a new location on his shelf. It seemed that every time he thought he had found the perfect place to put it, he was struck by a desire to move it again, if only a few inches. Why couldn't he find the perfect spot?

Suddenly, he realized he was only doing this so as to give himself an excuse for touching the pot. It was as if touching pot was like touching Cameron herself. Why did he feel this way?

No, he shouldn't be asking himself that. He knew why he felt that way. He had known for some time now.

The real question was why Cameron had build thing for him.

It served no practical purpose that a machine would find useful. But then again, Cameron was more than a machine.

He recalled his conversation with Starbuck in which she had mentioned the idea of machines building themselves souls. Was this what Cameron was trying to do? Was the Tin Man trying to build his own heart?

John's thoughts strayed to the detonator locket which hung from a chain around his neck. She had built that for him too. Supposedly to protect him from herself, but he had always suspected there was something more to it.

His mind then shifted to the kiss she had given him merely two days ago. She had been unable to provide any logical explanation for her actions there except that it had felt "appropriate."

It was as if she was trying to tell him something without actually telling him.

"_Girls sure are complicated."_ he thought to himself.

* * *

**Glendale, Los Angeles**

Over two hours had passed since Cameron arrived at Wazlib's apartment complex and still no sign of her target. According to the man at the front desk, Wazlib did indeed live here but he didn't always come back here at the end of each day.

"I don't know what he does for a living." the man had told her, "But he sure as hell works overtime some days."

No matter. She would wait here in the car until Wazlib arrived. Then she would capture him and take him to Sarah and the others for interrogation. She suspected it would be some time before they got any useful information out of him. Wazlib had been trained in the military. Simple physical torture would not be enough.

Cameron decided now would be a good time to _exercise_ the audio sensors in her head. She flipped on the car's radio and turned to a known station. Immediately, a loud pulsating song began playing.

"_You're like Voodoo baby,  
__You just take hold.__  
Put your cards on the table baby,  
Do I twist do I fold?_

_You're like Voodoo honey,  
All silver and gold.  
Why don't you tell me my future?  
Why don't I sell you my soul?_

_So here it comes - the sound of drums.  
Here come the drums, here come the drums_

_Baby, baby, baby!  
You are my Voodoo Child - my Voodoo Child.  
_

_Don't say maybe, maybe  
It's Supernatural - I'm coming undone."_

Satisfied with the material, Cameron began testing her audio sensors in conjunction with her body controls, synchronizing the movement of her chin and shoulders to the beat of the music.

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ, Los Angeles **

It was half past nine before Catherine Weaver finally left for home. Now Zeira Corp Headquarters was completely deserted with the exception of a couple security guards at the front desk.

John Henry now alone, sat in his chair and regarded the Nexus. Although he still felt lonely, he no longer felt the despair and confusion that had plagued him since his brother's attack. If his plan worked, he would never be alone again.

With nothing else to do, John Henry began practicing the last song Savannah had taught him.

"_I just got down from the Isle of Skye,  
I'm not very big but I'm awful shy,  
The lassies shout as I walk by,_  
'_Donald, Where's Your Trousers?'_

_Let the wind blow high, let the wind blow low,  
Through the streets in my kilt I'll go,  
All the lassies cry, 'Hello!  
Donald, where's your trousers?'"  
_

* * *

**The Crucible, California Desert**

Bella patiently waited for John Miles to finish arming the Disruptor.

"It's ready." he said at last.

Bella reached out expecting John Miles to hand the weapon over, but instead he put it down next to Stewie who was lying on a table.

"Not yet, Bella." he said. "Remember the plan."

Bella nodded. "We deal with your brother first. And then the Renegade." she stated.

John Miles nodded. "Precisely." he said with a cold smile. "Now, please contact Father and inform him of the latest developments."

"Certainly, John Miles." said Bella.

After Bella had left, John Miles extended his arm towards Stewie. The snake slithered down from the table and onto his arm. John Miles gently placed the black serpent back into its cage.

"The pieces continue to fall into place, my little friend." he whispered.

Then, unheard by anyone else, John Miles began quietly singing to himself one of his more favorite tunes.

"_Finally, robotic beings rule the world.  
The humans are dead.  
The humans are dead.  
We used poisonous gases,__  
And we poisoned their asses._

_The humans are dead.  
He's right they are dead.  
The humans are dead.  
Look at that one it's dead._

_It had to be done,  
I'll just confirm that they're dead.  
So that we could have fun.  
Affirmative, I poked one, it was dead."  
_

* * *

**10:13 PM, Connor Safehouse**

"Frak it!" scowled Kara with frustration.

She had been sitting at this piano for hours and despite her best efforts, she still hadn't been able to reproduce that damn song. Apparently, the knowledge had been drained from her over the last three years of her existence. Frankly, she wasn't surprised. After all, she had spent those last three years fighting Skynet's armies, not practicing for a musical concert.

Maybe she could work backwards using the coordinates that had led her to Earth. A few moments later, however, she realized to her dismay she couldn't even remember the numbers.

Kara sighed and slumped her shoulders in defeat. She was tired and needed to rest. Her legs were so heavy though, that she couldn't even walk to her bedroom.

"Oh what the hell?" she muttered under her breath. Sleep was sleep. You did it wherever you could.

She rested her head on top of the piano and fell asleep within moments...

* * *

In her bedroom, Sarah carefully positioned herself so that she didn't put too much pressure on her injured elbow. When comfortable at last, she sank into her pillow and into a blissful unconsciousness...

* * *

Ellison leaned back in his easy chair, feeling an unusual sense of calmness. Possibly, this was because Ellen had kept her word and had not bothered him for the rest of the day. That had certainly been a nice change of pace. He closed his eyes and allowed his mind to go blank...

* * *

_Sarah Connor was running through the stone maze once again, chasing the ever growing sound of music..._

"_There must be some way out of here,__  
Said the Joker to the Thief,  
There's too much confusion,  
I can't get no relief."_

* * *

_Kara Thrace repelled herself down the white marble tower on her rope, the call of the music pulling her downwards towards her destination..._

"_No reason to get excited,  
The Thief he kindly spoke,  
There are many here among us,  
Who feel that life is but a joke."_

* * *

_James Ellison ran up the spiraling staircase, the mysterious music playing in the background, beckoning him to climb faster..._

"_Outside in the distance,  
A wild cat did growl,  
Two riders were approaching,  
The wind began to howl."_

* * *

All three dreamers suddenly awoke at the same time. It was exactly midnight in the city.

No one could go back to sleep for the rest of the night.

And it was a _very_ long night.

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter, we learn how Cameron got her name.**

A/N2: I hope I didn't overload this chapter with music. (I got the idea for using "The Humans Are Dead" from a BSG spoof music video on Youtube.)

A/N3: The Crucible is a reference to the Dalek planetoid in the Series 4 Finale of _Doctor Who_.

A/N4: Mr. Ozzie is a reference to a certain unlucky Imperial admiral from _The Empire Strikes Back_.

**A/N5: I wouldn't exactly call Bella a vampire. (She didn't actually suck the guy's blood out for one thing). She's more like a... well, I don't want to go into any details right now, but suffice to say, there's a reason why she's called a T-Scorpion. (Just bear with me, folks)  
**


	30. A Partner

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**Skynet75: You can only have two categories per crossover on this site. Also the _Bones_ crossover in chap 28 was really just a cameo. And I've already said the Mr. Hodgins on Connor's staff is _not_ the Dr. Hodgins from _Bones_ (I did leave the possibility open of them being related).  
**

A/N: First of all, thank you for those who continue to review and provide me with feedback. Everyone, I'm asking you to PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW. (A fic this size needs lots of reviews.)

A/N2: This chapter is a rather short one.

**Centurion005**: The Nexus is indeed a lot like the Matrix.

**LordZeus**: We will definitely learn exactly what happened to Wazlib in Iraq.

**Devastator:** I did change the "vampire thing". In the original version, Bella had fangs instead of pincers.

Anyway, here's chapter 30. Read and REVIEW.

* * *

**Fort Leopard, 2024**

"I'm sorry, lieutenant, but that's the way things are."

Kara, never very good at hiding disappointment, immediately tried to protest. "Sir, I'm not quite sure I-"

"Understand?" General Koontz raised an eyebrow, "I thought you'd be the _first_ to understand."

"No, sir." replied Kara, "I don't, sir."

Koontz leaned forward from his chair. "Really?" he said. The aged general's voice was as rough as gravel. "You _honestly_ don't understand?"

Kara shook her head. "No, sir." she said again.

Koontz motioned for Kara to sit down. "Sit down, Thrace."

After Kara had sat down, Koontz opened a file on his desk and removed a single piece of paper from it.

"Very well, lieutenant." he said, "Let's review the situation again."

He cleared his throat a couple times and began reading through the report. "Now, you've successfully completed every required exercise with 'outstanding' marks in close combat, firearms, explosives, and vehicles. Am I correct?"

"Yes, sir." confirmed Kara, who was unable to stop herself from smiling.

Koontz nodded slowly. "You've certainly earned your reputation, lieutenant." he said. "You have all the qualifications to be on a Spec Ops team." He put the paper down. "There's only one problem."

"What's that?" asked Kara.

"You're not a team player."

"I'm not?"

Koontz pulled out several pieces of paper from the file this time. Once more he cleared his throat and began reading through the papers. "Your evaluators say you have a lot of guts... but also a big mouth... and a _serious_ problem with authority."

"I suppose so." said Kara with a shrug.

Koontz continued speaking, "In the past three months, you've had fourteen separate complaints filed against you. Eight of them concerned your conduct during training exercises. Also five counts of gross disregard for personal safety. Another three counts of disobeying orders, including a physical assault on a superior officer. Shall I go on?"

"No, sir." murmured a subdued Kara.

Koontz tossed the files away carelessly and regarded Kara with an unclear expression. It was one of those looks that expressed admiration and irritation.

"You're a good fighter, lieutenant." he said, "No, scratch that. You're an _incredible_ fighter. But that doesn't necessarily mean you're a good solider. You see Thrace, part of being a soldier means that you don't always get what you want. In fact, you hardly _ever_ get what you want. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir." replied Kara quietly. She then requested, "Permission to speak freely, sir."

"Go ahead."

"I do have problems with authority. It's... it's just who I am. But I don't disobey orders because I think I'm above them." Kara paused and looked down at her lap momentarily. "I do it because... because if I die... I'd rather die from my own mistakes than the mistakes of someone else."

"That's certainly an interesting perspective." said Koontz, "But do you remember the motto of Spec Ops?"

Kara nodded. "'Never alone.'"

"Exactly. '_Never alone_.' You're part of a team. In Spec Ops, it's never 'your fault' or 'my fault' or 'his fault' or 'her fault.' It's only '_our_ fault.' What affects one, affects all. One man's triumph is everyone's triumph. One man's mistake is everyone's mistake." Koontz sighed and shook his head. "Until you learn, Thrace, to trust someone besides yourself with your life, you can't be on Spec Ops."

"There _are_ people like that, sir." Kara asserted. "There are people I trust with my life."

"I'm sure there are." replied Koontz, "But none of them are with Spec Ops it would seem."

Kara swallowed and then launched a last desperate appeal. "Sir, this is something I have to be part of. I can't just be stuck here at Fort Leopard all the time. I have to be out there behind enemy lines, striking at the heart of the enemy. I'm _needed_ out there, sir. The Resistance _needs_ me out there."

Koontz said nothing. He simply leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest.

Kara gave him a pleading look. "Please?" she asked as humbly as possible.

* * *

"So, what'd he say, Starbuck?" asked Davy several hours later. He and Kara had just finished their surface patrol.

"He told me that he'd look one more time for a team he felt I could work with." replied Kara, "And that if he couldn't find one, then that was it." She sighed with resignation, "I doubt he'll find anything."

"Well, that's not too bad." Davy said, "Maybe he will find a team for you. And if he doesn't, you could always take the course again."

"Ha!" laughed Kara, "If you think I'm going to go through another three months-"

"Starbuck," interrupted Davy, "If I may make an observation. Koontz is right. If you're gonna be in Spec Ops, you have to-"

"Shut up and follow orders regardless of how stupid I think they are?"

"Well, yeah. But it's more than just obeying the chain of command. Following orders demonstrates your trust for your leader."

"What if I don't trust them?"

"Well, that's the problem, isn't it, Kara? You don't really trust people. If you can't trust people, you can't be with Spec Ops."

"I _do_ trust others, Davy." protested Kara, "I trust Connor. I trust Becka. And even though you can be a bit of an idiot sometimes, I trust you."

Davy just grinned in response. Kara grinned back. Things had vastly improved between her and Davy over the past three months. Davy's declaration of love for her had apparently dropped off the radar, and now the two had gone back to just being friends. To Kara's further relief, Becka had not made a fuss about them hiding their true feelings or whatever. She was just happy to see Kara and Davy back together again.

They spotted an abandoned shuttle bus resting in a ditch off the side of the road and headed towards it. This rusting vehicle was essentially a barracks for troops patrolling this part of Fort Leopard's surface perimeter. Here Kara could get some rest before heading back underground to start her interior shift.

"But really, Starbuck," Davy went on, "You can't rely only on yourself for protection. You have to be willing to put your life in the hands of others. I know that makes you feel vulnerable and weak. But the truth is you're _more_ vulnerable and weak when you're on your own."

"Is that so?" asked Kara casually.

They stepped off the road and into the ditch, landing near the back of the shuttle bus.

"A lot of people took an attitude of it's-every-man-for-himself after Judgment Day." Davy stated. He knocked three times on the backdoor. "I doubt if any of them are still alive today. The machines picked them off one by one. Those that didn't kill each other first-"

A hidden panel slid open and Davy suddenly found himself looking down the barrel of a plasma rifle.

Kara smirked. "Speaking of which..." she stepped forward and called out, "Thrace - Zero - Zero - Niner - Four - Two - Four - Six."

The gun barrel withdrew and the backdoor opened.

"I was wondering when you guys would show up." Becka said.

Before Kara could respond, something big and furry got into her face.

"I know, I know, Husker!" giggled Kara as a wet tongue tickled her nose, "I'm glad to see you too. Calm down, boy."

Becka got Husker to calm down long enough for Kara and Davy to climb into the back of the bus.

"There's some dinner left for you guys." Becka told them. She pointed towards the front of the bus where a small crock pot sat hooked up to a portable generator.

"Thanks, Becka." Kara said.

She, Davy and Becka began making their way towards the front, with Husker in tow. All the seats had been removed to provide additional space for the other Resistance fighters inside. Those still awake saluted Kara as she passed by.

Soon Kara and her two friends were gathered around the pot tucking into their dinner (spam and cabbage stew as usual). Between mouthfuls of stew, Kara told Becka about how she had been denied a position in Spec Ops.

"Cheer up, Starbuck." said Becka, "Why not try for the Air Force again? That's what you really wanted to get into anyway."

"I already asked about that." Kara replied glumly, "They still don't have enough resources to train new pilots." She gulped down another spoonful of cabbage. "I'd tell them I don't need training, but I doubt they'd take my word for it."

"Well, not to make you feel jealous or anything," Becka said, "But I just got this today." She showed Kara and Davy a white armband with a red cross wrapped around her right shoulder.

"Wow." said Davy, "You're a battlefield medic now?"

Becka nodded. "I had to brush up on some of my studies from medical school, but I passed all the training exercises. I just hope I can do as good a job in the field itself. I mean, I'm not sure if I can do surgery _and_ dodge HKs at the same time."

"Don't worry, Becka," said Kara with a grin, "Just pretend the HKs are patients you _really_ don't want to see."

"Thanks, Starbuck." chuckled Becka.

At this point, Husker placed his head on Kara's lap. Kara stroked the dog's ears, causing him to lie down on his stomach and curl up. He opened his jaws to yawn and within minutes he was asleep. An exhausted Kara followed suite ten minutes later.

* * *

Six hours of much needed sleep later, Kara, Davy and Becka were descending into the depths of Fort Leopard for their interior shift.

"So how did you sleep, Starbuck?" Davy asked.

"Fine." answered Kara.

Actually, she hadn't slept entirely fine. She had had a very strange dream last night involving a talking paperclip with giant eyeballs that followed her everywhere. It kept asking her, _"It looks like you're trying to defeat Skynet. Need some help?"_

She told it over and over that she didn't need help, but the paperclip simply wouldn't leave her alone. Finally she had caved in and admitted she did need help. She also demanded to know what kind of "help" a talking paperclip could possibly give her. Unfortunately, before she could get an answer, she had been woken up by Davy and Becka.

"_Next time, I'm just gonna dream up a plasma rifle and blast the frakking thing."_ Kara thought savagely.

"Excuse me, Lieutenant Thrace." A corporal caught up with them.

"Yes, corporal." said Kara.

"Message from General Koontz, ma'am." reported the corporal, "He wants to see you in his office ASAP."

Kara nodded. "Thank you, corporal. Carry on."

"Yes, ma'am." The corporal saluted and hurried away.

After he was gone, Kara turned to Davy and Becka. "Go on. I'll catch up with you guys later."

"Good luck, Starbuck." wished Davy.

"Thanks, Davy. I'm gonna need it."

* * *

By the time Kara reached Koontz's office, she had resolved herself to accept whatever the general had to tell her. If he told her she was in, that was fantastic. If not - oh well.

General Koontz was waiting for her inside - and to Kara's surprise, so was John Connor.

"General Connor, sir." she said, instantly snapping to attention and giving him a salute.

Connor saluted back. "Good to see you again, lieutenant." he told her.

"What brings you here, sir?" asked Kara.

"I'll explain that." said Koontz. He motioned for Kara to sit down, after which he sat down himself.

"As you no doubt recall," Koontz began, "I informed you the other day that I would search one more time for a Spec Ops team that I felt you would be able to work with."

"Yes, sir." Kara nodded. Inside her head, however, she was wondering what this had to do with General Connor being here.

"I was unable to find you a team." Koontz said.

Kara sighed. "I understand, sir." she said quietly with resignation in her voice.

"However," Koontz suddenly went on, "I spoke with General Connor, and we've managed to find you a position in Spec Ops nonetheless."

Kara's eyes widened in excitement. "_Really_?"

Connor spoke up. "We're making you a Spec Ops agent, lieutenant."

"What's that, sir?"

"Recon, espionage, sabotage, all the things a Spec Ops team would be tasked with." explained Connor. "The difference is that you'll be working with just one other operative."

"Sounds like fun." said Kara. She was positively glowing with joy now.

"It still requires the same cooperation and trust needed for any team to function." Koontz told her sternly, "You and your partner must work together as one. Do you understand, lieutenant?"

"Yes, sir. I understand, sir." Kara replied.

"Then I take it you're in." said Connor.

Kara nodded and stood up to face Connor. "Yes, sir." she said, "I'm in." She put as much meaning as possible in those few words.

Connor gave her a look of approval. "Then let's have you meet your partner."

Kara was surprised. "You've already chosen a partner for me, sir?"

"That is correct, lieutenant." Connor replied. He hit a button on Koontz's desk. "We're ready for you, Hodgins."

A speaker outside the room replied, _"Yes, sir." _

The door to Koontz's office opened and Mr. Stephen Hodgins entered.

"People," he announced with pride, "I'd like you to meet Cameron."

He gestured towards the doorway and a brown haired girl stepped into the room. Kara's mouth nearly dropped to the floor.

It was the TOK-715.

There was a moment of silence in which everyone - especially Kara - stared at the Terminator girl standing docilely in the middle of the room. The same machine which only months before had nearly killed Kara and Connor with her own hands. The same machine which had been meant to replace Kara but had assumed the form of Allison Young instead.

Koontz was the first to speak up. "Impressive work, Mr. Hodgins." he complimented, "What did you say its name was again?"

"Cameron," said Hodgins, "I named her after an old girlfriend from high school."

"Meet your partner, Thrace." Connor said pleasantly.

Kara's brain had gone numb. She didn't know what to say or what to think. She was being partnered with a Terminator. And not just any Terminator. A Terminator which had been built because of her. For the first time in months, Kara felt her POW barcode burn.

"Well, lieutenant?" asked Koontz. "Say something. It's not gonna bite you now."

"Ehhhh... ummm... Nice to meet you." was all Kara could say.

Cameron nodded her head in acknowledgment. "Hello again, Lieutenant Thrace." she replied in a polite but emotionless tone.

"She remembers me?" Kara asked Hodgins.

"We left the memories of the prototype version in her. The one that helped you escape." explained Hodgins, "We figured it would make her more familiar with you."

"Oh..." muttered Kara. She stared at Cameron again. The TOK-715 stared back and tilted her head slightly.

"_Why do they always do that?"_ Kara wondered, _"Tilt their heads like that? What's that supposed to mean?"_

"Thank you, Mr. Hodgins." Connor said, "You can take her back to the lab now. We'll contact you again soon."

"Yes, sir." Hodgins turned to Cameron. "You go ahead, Cameron."

"Very well, Mr. Hodgins," replied Cameron. She turned and left.

Before following the cyborg girl out, Hodgins turned to Kara.

"I'm taking a big risk here, Lieutenant," he said sternly. "I expect you to bring my girl in good condition. Is that understood?"

"Yes, it is," murmured Kara.

"I'll hold you to that."

Hodgins turned and left the office.

"Well, Lieutenant," said Koontz, clapping a hand on Kara's shoulder, "congratulations on getting into Spec Ops. Be back here in six hours for a mission briefing. Understood?"

Kara, still not entirely over what had just happened, nodded dully. "Yes, sir."

"Dismissed."

Kara saluted Koontz and left the room, her head spinning. She leaned back against the wall outside and began to breathe very rapidly.

"I assume you have a lot of questions, lieutenant."

Kara turned and saw John Connor watching her from the doorway. She pushed herself off the wall and turned to address the general.

"Just one, sir." she said, "Why put _us_ together?"

"Simply put, Starbuck" stated Connor, "it's my hope that you two will complement each other."

"Complement?"

"Make each other whole. What she lacks, you'll provide for her. And what you lack, she'll provide for you."

"I don't think I understand, sir." said Kara.

"Not yet," Connor acknowledged, "But you will." He gave her a smile. "Remember to be back here in six hours." he reminded.

"Yes, sir." Kara replied with a nod.

Boy, was she gonna have an awkward time explaining this to everyone.

* * *

"You're partnered up with a _metal_?" exclaimed Becka, "Jesus, Starbuck, who did you piss off?"

"I dunno." admitted Kara. She wondered briefly if Colonel Sloan had anything to do with this. Had this been his way of punishing her for having rejected his offer? It didn't sound like the type of revenge Sloan would exact, but anything was possible with guys like him.

"I don't think it's punishment, Becka." Kara said a moment later, "I mean, they put me in Spec Ops, didn't they? That's what I wanted. And who cares if my partner's a machine? What's the worse that could possibly happen?"

"The chip goes bad and it kills you." Davy said darkly.

Kara shrugged as if she didn't care. "Yeah, I guess so." She looked at her watch. "Nearly time for me to get to the general's office."

"Good hunting, Starbuck." Becka wished her.

"And don't forget what I told you about trusting people." Davy said.

"I'll keep it in mind, Davy." said Kara, "Thanks."

"One other thing, Starbuck." Davy added. "If worse comes to worse, aim for the chip."

"Don't worry about me, Davy." Kara assured him.

She winked at him, and he winked back at her.

* * *

**Ruins of LA, 2024**

**Mission status: On route to Deep 13**

Kara drove through the wasteland in a Resistance jeep, her cyborg partner sitting next to her, her face completely blank. Multiple times Kara felt an urge to wave her hand in front of Cameron's face just to make sure she was still online. After a while, Kara decided she should at least try to strike up a conversation with Cameron, even though she knew it would probably be fruitless.

What would Cameron want to talk about, though? Well, obviously the mission. Yes, the mission. That would be a good starting place...

In her mind, Kara began playing back the orders Koontz had given them. Approximately twenty-four hours ago, the Resistance had lost contact with Deep 13, one of their listening posts on the front line. No one knew if Deep 13 had been attacked, or if the outpost's equipment was simply malfunctioning. In any case, they had to find out.

Because Deep 13 was positioned near an area that the machines often used as a supply route, a full SAR team would have difficulty getting to the outpost without being detected. A small two-person unit, however, could do it without much trouble since the machines were looking out for mainly large scale attacks on their supply lines.

Kara and Cameron's orders were clear. They were to go to Deep 13 and investigate its status. If the outpost had indeed been compromised, they were to recover as many survivors as possible, and then destroy the outpost.

Kara cleared her throat loudly to ensure she got Cameron's attention.

"So, Cameron," she said slowly, "What do you think the problem is? Equipment failure or an attack?"

"There is insufficient information to make any sort of conclusion." replied Cameron.

"Well, which do you think is more likely?" asked Kara unwilling to be discouraged by failing the first time.

"Our lack of information makes speculation pointless, Lieutenant Thrace." stated Cameron in a tone that carried a hint on condescension.

Kara suppressed an urge to groan. This was worse than pulling teeth.

"Well then, based purely on what we _do_ know," she pressed, "What would you say?"

"Assuming all given variables hold true and when disregarding all unknowns" said Cameron, "there is a sixty-seven percent chance of an equipment failure related issue."

"Sixty-seven percent, huh? So you don't think Skynet's discovered the outpost?"

"I cannot make that sort of statement. My estimate could have an error of up to twenty-five percent when taking into account the fact that I had to disregard all unknowns. Furthermore, the given variables-"

"Alright, you know what. Forget it." interrupted Kara, "You're right. It's pointless to speculate. We'll just have to find out when we get there."

"Yes." said Cameron, "We will."

Kara gritted her teeth.

_"That's it__. No more conversation making." _she told herself, _"Just focus on the job."_

They drove in complete silence for the next thirty minutes. Just as Kara was getting used to the silence, Cameron suddenly called out, "Stop!"

Startled, Kara instinctively slammed on the brakes bringing the jeep to a screeching halt.

"What is, Cameron?" she asked, "Is there trouble ahead?"

"Possibly." Cameron got out of the jeep.

Not sure what else to do, Kara switched the engine off, grabbed her plasma rifle and got out herself.

Cameron was standing twenty feet away, looking at something on the ground. Upon getting closer, Kara realized she was looking at marks on the ground. Tread marks.

Her heart skipped a beat. HK Tanks.

"How many?" she asked her cyborg partner.

"One." reported Cameron. "And it will be back."

"How do you know?"

Cameron held up two pieces of what looked like rubber.

"These were left behind by the same Tank. But at different times. One was deposited over eight hours ago. The other was left here no more than two hours ago."

After assimilating this information, Kara said, "Then it's not just a scout. It's actually on constant patrol."

"Yes." confirmed Cameron, "And it is not alone. There will be other units on different patrol routes in the vicinity. Assuming standard occupation protocols are used, this district will have been divided into multiple sections of eight to twelve square miles. At least one ground unit and one air unit will have been assigned to cover each section."

Kara thought about all this. If the machines were on constant patrol, that meant they had this area locked down pretty tightly. The patrols would be looking specifically for people trying to slip in. People like her and Cameron.

However... Kara gazed around the wasteland. There were plenty of abandon vehicles in the area. If they saw a patrol coming, they could quickly stop the car and kill the engine. They could then set up an infra-red deflector that would mask Kara's bio-signature. The visual sensors used by the machines did not work very well in the dark. Which meant so long as she and Cameron kept low, the patrols would see no difference between their jeep and the hundreds of other vehicles nearby. Once the patrol had moved on, they could rev up the jeep and continue driving.

"Hey, Cam." said Kara excitedly, "I've got an idea."

After she had presented her idea to Cameron, she waited for a response. The cyborg seemed to stare off into space. No doubt she was thinking it over, doing calculations, probabilities and other such things she liked to do.

At last she gave her response. "It won't work."

Kara rolled her eyes. _"Why am I not surprised?"_

"May I ask why?" she said not bothering to hide her irritation.

"The infra-red deflectors do not always guarantee complete protection against bio-scans." stated Cameron, "Furthermore, even if your heat signature is not detected, it is very likely the heat from our vehicle's engine will be."

"So what?" challenged Kara, "They don't care if a vehicle's hot. They only care if something with flesh and blood is hot."

"The heat signature from a vehicle will indicate recent usage. Recent usage will indicate the possibility of a life form in the immediate vicinity. The patrols will call for reinforcements and initiate a more methodical search."

"If we turned off the engines early enough-"

"It would take at least ten minutes for the engines to cool to a point that would not register on the patrols' scanners. We would need to stay out of the HKs' sensor range until that time. That would require knowing the precise patrol routes being utilized."

"I can do that." argued Kara, "I know how these things work. They're not that smart. They're frakkin' machines. Big, dumb and..." - she bit her tongue upon realizing that Cameron was giving her a piercing look- "...I wasn't talking about you. I was just saying I know how to avoid the patrols. They're very predictable."

"Perhaps," acknowledged Cameron, "But there are many of them. And if just one of them detects us, it will call the others."

"It's a risk we'll have to take."

"There is a seventy percent chance that this stratagem will result in failure. The risk is unacceptable. We cannot proceed."

"If you have a better suggestion, then I'd _love_ to hear it!"

"Very well." said Cameron, "We can avoid the patrols by circumventing this entire quadrant. It will add some additional time to our journey, but it will guarantee us safe passage to Deep 13."

"How much additional time exactly?" Kara asked suspiciously.

"Seven hours, thirty-seven minutes approximately." Cameron replied.

"_Seven hours_!" exclaimed Kara, "Are you frakking serious? Seven hours!"

"And thirty-seven minutes." added Cameron.

"H-how can it _possibly_ take that long to avoid a few patrols?" demanded Kara.

"Our route will take us over terrain that will slow us down considerably." explained Cameron, "Furthermore, we will not only be avoiding Skynet patrols, but a number of areas with high levels of radiation, as well as areas known to be inhabited by groups of militant-"

"Okay, okay! I get it!" snapped Kara. She shook her head. "There _has_ to be another way."

"There is no other way."

"Yes, there is. There's _my_ way."

"Which will most likely not work."

"Well, there's no way in hell I'm gonna do it your way if it involves a seven hour cross country road trip."

"You're being highly irrational and unreasonable, lieutenant." Cameron pointed out.

"Oh am I?" sneered Kara, folding her arms across her chest, "Am I? Huh? Well, maybe I am. What are you gonna do about it?"

"Lieutenant Thrace, this behavior is most ill-advised." Cameron said, "The longer we stay here arguing like this, the more likely it is our presence will be detected."

"Then let's do this my way."

"We cannot."

"Well then," Kara gave her partner a fake apologetic look, "looks like we're not going anywhere."

"No." stated Cameron. "We're not."

Kara smirked. "And there's not much you can do about it either."

Cameron tilted her head to the side.

"Wrong." she said.

The next moment Kara felt something very fast and very hard collide with her face. Everything went black before she even hit the ground.

When Kara came to, she was in the jeep again. But this time she was sitting shotgun. Cameron was now in the driver's seat. Kara rubbed her aching forehead which, when she looked in the mirror, she discovered had a nasty-looking black and purple bruise on it.

"Oh... Owwww..." she gritted her teeth and winced in pain.

"Try to remain still, lieutenant." Cameron advised her.

"What the frak happened, Cameron?" asked Kara trying to remember the events just prior to falling unconscious.

"You suffered a concussion," replied Cameron, "Do not be alarmed. The damage is neither crippling nor permanent. You are already showing signs of recovery."

"Yeah, but what happened?" Kara asked.

"You were acting in a way that jeopardized the mission." stated Cameron, "I was forced to take action."

"Take action? What are you talking about? You..." Kara trailed off as realization leaked into her head.

_"You_!" she gasped, "You did _this_ to me?" She pointed to the bruise on her forehead.

"Affirmative." said Cameron in an almost smug manner.

"You-you..." Kara gaped at her in disbelief. Then slowly, her disbelief was replaced by indignity and outrage.

"You frakking _BITCH_ of a toaster!" she spat, her face red with anger, "What the hell did you-"

"While you were unconscious I drove the route I planned and we have now arrived within the area of Deep 13." reported Cameron.

"Deep 13? We're at Deep 13?" asked Kara looking around.

"In the general vicinity of Deep 13."

"So I was out for _seven_ hours?"

"Six hours, thirty-three minutes." replied Cameron. "Along the way, I made several alterations that reduced our total travel time."

"Cameron..." growled Kara, her voice trembling with rage once again, "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't put a plasma bolt through your chip right now."

"Under the current conditions, such an attempt would have a ninety-seven percent chance of failure." Cameron stated, "Quite possibly resulting in additional and more serious injuries."

Kara tightened her fists into balls. "Wh-what the _hell_ is wrong with you?" she raged, "Y-you can't just knock people out who disagree with you!"

"That seems to be _your_ solution to these types of problems, Thrace." Cameron pointed out coolly.

"What the _frak_ is that supposed to mean?"

"Two weeks ago," stated Cameron, "during a training mission for Spec Ops, you had an altercation with Captain John Hicks which cumulated in you physically assaulting him, taking his radio away, and giving contrary orders to Corporal Jack Lakewood."

"Th-that was different!" protested Kara, "Hicks was giving Lakewood all the wrong instructions for how to disarm a security system. He was being an idiot! A five year old could have done better!"

"And in this case, you were planning to do something that would have put our mission in danger of failure. And this is a _real_ mission. Not just a mere training exercise. I offered you a reasonable solution, but you refused to compromise. I therefore resolved our disagreement in the most efficient way possible. The actions I took were both necessary and appropriate. Possibly even more necessary and appropriate than the ones you took when dealing with Captain Hicks."

"No... no... they weren't... you-you..."

"_You_ should realize" interrupted Cameron, "that what is done is done. We are now within the vicinity of Deep 13. We should proceed with the rest of our mission."

Kara had no response. She just watched as Cameron got out of the vehicle.

"I must scout the immediate area." she said, "Wait here for my return."

She closed the door and departed. Kara was left alone to fume and spew in silence.

"_Frakking metal bitch!"_ she thought furiously, _"Who the hell does she think she is?"_

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by laughter. Alarmed, Kara turned her head around and found Admiral Adama sitting in the back of the jeep laughing. He was laughing so hard tears were coming out of his eyes. Kara was stunned and a little disturbed. She had never seen the Old Man like this before.

"I fail to see what's so funny, sir." she said dryly.

Adama managed to get himself to stop laughing long enough to speak. "Don't you see, Starbuck?" he chuckled, "Connor was right. She's _perfect_ for you."

"_Perfect?_" exclaimed Kara, "_Perfect?_ We are without a doubt the most mismatched partners the universe has even seen!"

Adama shook his head and smiled. "You two complement each other perfectly. You are going to make such a great team."

"A great team?" Kara couldn't believe what she was hearing. "That metal bitch and I have less chance of being a '_great team_' than... than..." she tried to think of something completely ludicrous, "...than Leoben and Racetrack would have of getting married."

Again Adama shook his head and laughed. "I think the real reason why you're so upset, Kara, is because you've finally met someone you can't simply just push around - figuratively and literally speaking. But _she_ can certainly push _you_ around. You've never met someone like that. You've never had an equal."

"An equal?"

"Yes, Starbuck, that's what she is. An equal. _Your_ equal."

Kara groaned. "This was _such_ a bad idea." she muttered, "Signing up for Spec Ops. Why didn't I see this coming?"

Adama's tone became more serious. "Give her a chance, Starbuck." he said, "There's more to her than you know. And she is right too. You've still got a mission to complete. Stay focused and get the job done."

Kara nodded slowly. "Yes, sir." she whispered.

At that point, Cameron returned. "The area is secure, lieutenant." she reported, "We'll proceed to Deep 13 on foot from here."

Glaring at her partner, Kara opened the door and got out of the vehicle. She grabbed her plasma rifle, buckled up her combat vest, and strapped on her helmet. Now ready for battle, Kara walked up to Cameron and gave the cyborg a filthy, disdainful look.

"Alright, let's do this." she said, "But after this, we are frakking _done_ professionally."

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter: It's more than just an equipment failure.**

A/N2: Deep 13 is a reference to MST3K.

A/N3: I'm sure you all know who the paperclip was from Kara's dream.

A/N4: Hodgins naming Cameron after James Cameron is a meta-reference to TSCC, because Cameron really was named after James Cameron.


	31. Way Down in Deep 13

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**For those of you wondering how I managed to get this chapter up with the site being as buggy as it is lately, I cut-and-paste from my original MS word file onto an older exported file already on the Document Manager. **

A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews, people!

Here's chapter 31.

A/N2: A lot of you are asking why Kara had a dream about the paperclip. Well, the "official" explanation is that at some point, she found a cartoon drawing of the paperclip in some ruins. The unofficial explanation is that the paperclip is actually one of the demons Sarah talked about in "Born to Run." (j/k)

**Devastator:** Cameron being named after James Cameron wasn't mentioned in any TSCC episode. It was a behind the scenes thing.

**Acer-Sigma:** Yes, I would imagine that Saul Tigh, wherever he is, is laughing his ass off at Kara.

* * *

**Spec Ops Mission in progress: Investigate status of Deep 13**

If there was one thing nice that could be said about Skynet's reign, it was that certain parts of California's infrastructure were maintained on a regular basis. The roads and bridges leading in and out of Los Angeles were not only still intact, they were actually in _better_ shape now than they had been before Judgment Day. That was more than the last fifty years of state bureaucracy could have ever claimed to have accomplished.

This particular area along the outskirts of the greater metropolitan sector of LA was frequently used by the machines to transport supplies, spare parts, and troops to and from the city. Unknown to them however, was that for the past four years, the Resistance had been right under their noses watching them from inside Deep 13. The outpost itself was well-concealed beneath some rocky, harsh terrain, yet simultaneously out in the open enough for the inhabitants to effectively monitor enemy activity.

Kara counted herself fortunate that the trek to Deep 13 involved going through some naturally rough and rocky terrain. For one thing, the terrain provided her with a decent amount of protection from enemy patrols. Additionally, the radiation levels here were pretty low which meant she didn't have to ingest one of those disgusting anti-radiation pills. She also found the absence of rubble and skulls quite refreshing. It was certainly nice to get away from the wreckage of human civilization every now and then.

If anything, having to transverse the natural terrain took her mind off the subject of her cyborg partner. Not having to think about Cameron made the pain from both the bruise on her forehead and the humiliation of having received it less intense.

Kara rubbed her head when she realized she would have to explain her injury when she got back to Fort Leopard. Obviously she couldn't tell anyone the truth lest she die from embarrassment. So what sort of story should she tell? Would anyone believe it?

Well, there would be plenty of time on the way back to Fort Leopard to think of something plausible.

Sweat dripped out from under her helmet as Kara slowly hiked up a rocky ridge. It wasn't a very tall or steep slope, but the plasma rifle strapped to her back made the climb more difficult than expected. Stopping a moment to catch her breath, Kara looked up and saw Cameron was way ahead of her despite not only carrying a plasma rifle but a backpack loaded with explosives and other equipment. Gnashing her teeth, Kara resumed her ascent with increased vigor.

Part of her realized she was being egotistical and stupid. Cameron was coltan driven by a nuclear power source. She, Kara, was but flesh, blood, and bone. Of course Cameron would make her look second-rate when it came to physical feats. Nevertheless, Kara didn't want to be outdone_ too much_ by a toaster.

Caring little for where she stepped, Kara picked up the pace. Several times, she almost tripped and fell, managing to catch herself just in the nick time. The last few feet of her journey presented her with an all-together new obstacle. The path suddenly became very sharp and steep, which meant Kara would actually have to pull herself up. Unfortunately, all the nooks and crevices in reach were too small for her to grab onto.

Cameron, who had already made it to the top, noticed her partner's situation and held out a hand to assist Kara. The last thing Kara wanted, however, was Cameron's assistance. Instead, she pulled out her combat knife and stabbed the blade firmly into a crevice above. With one hand on the knife handle for leverage, Kara slowly scaled the ridge. At last she pulled herself to the top.

Exhausted but triumphant Kara allowed herself a moment to rest before reaching down to retrieve her knife. Much to her dismay, the blade was firmly embedded within the crevice, and she was still too tired to pull it out. She would have to wait a while to recover her strength.

Cameron, however, did not want to wait for her. She reached down and effortlessly pulled the knife from the side of the ridge. Kara mentally groaned in embarrassment. She almost refused to take the knife back when Cameron handed it to her.

While Kara rested up a bit, Cameron walked to the opposite side and began surveying the area below.

"Deep 13 is located below near the base of this ridge." Cameron stated, "The entrance is approximately three-quarters of the way down."

"Okay then," said Kara with a nod. She got to her feet and started towards the other side. "Let's get going."

"Wait," Cameron suddenly ordered. She pointed to a large boulder nearby. "Take cover behind there."

Kara didn't have to ask why. She had already heard the familiar mechanical buzzing. Swiftly, she hid herself behind the boulder, joined a moment later by Cameron. The two watched as a pair of Aerial Hunter Killers swooped down from above and began gliding along a paved road below. The machines followed the road slowly and steadily, sweeping their searchlights back and forth.

"What are they looking for?" asked Kara.

"They're scanning the road for hidden explosives and other devices." explained Cameron.

"So they're not looking for us?"

"No, but we still have to wait for the rest of the convoy to pass."

"Convoy?"

"These two HKs are the vanguard for a routine supply convoy heading into the city. It should be no more than ten minutes behind."

Sure enough, less than ten minutes later, four cargo trucks rolled by, escorted by an HK Tank on either side of the road. Kara and Cameron watched and waited in silence until the convoy had disappeared from sight. Then Cameron led Kara down the slope of the hill.

Towards the bottom, they came upon a rusty metal hatch. Cameron pulled it open, revealing a stairway the led into the darkness below.

"After you." said Kara patronizingly.

"Very well." agreed Cameron.

The two descended down the stairs and found themselves in a dark, musty-smelling underground passage. They both pulled out their plasma rifles and turned the beam lights on to illuminate their surroundings. Upon shining the light on the walls, Kara discovered they were standing in some kind of enormous metal pipe at least twelve feet high.

"What is this place, Cameron?" she asked, "Please tell me it's not a sewer."

"It was once part of Los Angeles's aqueduct network." explained Cameron, "This region of California did not receive sufficient water to meet the needs of the city. Thus, a hundred years ago, an aqueduct system was constructed to obtain water from other sources. Massive steel and concrete conduits such as this one delivered water to Los Angeles all the way from Northern California."

"Wow..." mused Kara, "The city must have had to pay through the nose for all that water."

"Actually, they didn't." replied Cameron, "The southern California population greatly outnumbered the northern population and therefore had more representative power in the state government. The city was able to acquire the water they needed for a relatively low cost."

"Gee, that must have sucked for the guys up north." Kara looked around the former aqueduct again. "So, this is Deep 13, I take it."

"Not exactly." stated Cameron, "The entrance to Deep 13 itself is that way." She pointed behind Kara. "Two hundred feet from here, there will what looks like be a rectangular support jutting out from the right side of the canal. It is in fact a door. There will be a guard behind it. I must give him the password before we can enter."

"Out of curiosity, why were _you_ given the password and not me?" asked Kara.

"I don't know." answered Cameron, "Possibly because Connor felt the information would be more secure with me than you."

"Right..." muttered Kara under her breath. "If you say so."

She and Cameron headed down the passage in the direction Cameron had indicated. They stopped when they saw the rectangular support, which according to Cameron was the door to Deep 13.

"Wait here, lieutenant." said Cameron. "I will give the guard the password."

Kara nodded. Cameron approached the door, raised a fist, and knocked. The door unexpectedly fell backwards and landed with a loud crash that echoed through the tunnels.

"Nice going, Cam." said Kara sarcastically, "What? Did you suddenly forget the password and decide to do it the good old fashion way?"

"No." stated Cameron. There was concern in her voice. "But someone else did."

"What?" asked Kara, taking a step forward.

"The door," Cameron pointed at the fallen door, "It was ripped off its hinges and braced against the frame to create the illusion of security."

"Ripped off its hinges?" repeated Kara, "That must mean..." she trailed off. They both knew what it meant.

"I think we have a bigger problem than just a broken door." Kara muttered grimly.

"Or an equipment failure." added Cameron. "I'll enter first. Cover me, lieutenant."

Kara nodded. "Got it."

Plasma rifles ready, Kara and Cameron cautiously stepped inside Deep 13 and gazed around. The lights were weak but there was enough to see. Not that Kara needed to see to figure out what had happened here. The smell of smoke, plasma residue, and death was enough to tell the story.

The first body they found - presumably that of the guard - was in plain sight. He lay less than five feet from where the door had fallen, a plasma wound in his chest

"How many do you think hit this place?" asked Kara anxiously.

"Judging from the position of the scorch marks along the walls," said Cameron, "there was only one attacker."

Kara tightened her grip on her weapon. "Could it still be in here?"

"Possibly." Cameron knelt down to inspect the dead guard. "This plasma burn was not caused by standard plasma rifle fire. It was caused by a bolt of at least point-eight megajoules."

"Meaning?" asked Kara, wanting to know precisely what Cameron was getting at.

"Meaning the infiltrator that did this has more firepower than either of us." Cameron stated. "We must proceed with caution."

"Why, thank you." Kara said sardonically, "Please continue to state the perfectly obvious. It makes me feel _so_ much better."

Much to her disappointment, Cameron's only response was to stand up and plainly state, "Let's keep moving."

As if there was anything else they could do.

* * *

Deep 13, being a very small outpost, didn't take too much time to search. In just fifteen minutes, Kara and Cameron had found enough to deem what had happened here to be nothing short of a very one-sided massacre.

So far, they had discovered twenty-two bodies. Most had been shot up by plasma fire. A few had simply been beaten to death. Fortunately for the two Spec Ops agents, the Terminator responsible for the carnage was not present - possibly because it had left to repair itself. After all, the people here had put up a fight. A losing fight, but a fight nonetheless.

Presently, Kara and Cameron were searching the last room - the control room - for any information that could be of use to them. Most of the communications and monitoring equipment had been destroyed, but one computer was still salvageable. Cameron busied herself retrieving the hard drive while Kara examined the bodies in this room. She counted a total of three. That brought the final count to twenty-five - the number of personnel assigned to Deep 13.

It was official. No one had survived.

Kara sighed. "Damn..."

She started to get up from inspecting the final body when she noticed something peculiar. The dead man had a microphone in his hand. It looked like he had been trying to send a message when he was killed. Kara pried the microphone from his dead hand and traced the cord back to the computer Cameron was working on.

"Cameron," she called out, "I thought the last transmission we received from here was a routine surveillance report."

"Correct." stated Cameron.

"It looks like this poor bastard was trying to send us a message right before he bought it." Kara said pointing to the body she was kneeling over.

"He must have been killed before he could send the message." Cameron theorized.

"The people in here were killed _last_ though," Kara pointed out, "They should have had enough time to at least send us a distress call."

"Yes." acknowledged Cameron. "They should have." She paused from her work. Clearly, Kara had given her something to think about.

"Could Skynet have somehow jammed the transmission?" asked Kara.

"It is possible." stated Cameron, "Supposedly, Skynet should not have been able to do so, but it is possible. However, there is something else inconsistent."

"What?"

"I expected this room, if not the outpost itself to be under heavy occupied force. At the very least, this room should be missing several pieces of equipment Skynet would want to acquire for tactical information. Instead those items - with the exception of this hard drive - have all been destroyed."

"Maybe the techs did it themselves."

"No. The damage in this room was caused by heavy plasma rifle fire. None of the bodies here have plasma weapons on them."

"So, let me get this straight." said Kara, "A single Terminator shows up, wipes everyone out, but destroys everything of possible value to Skynet and then leaves."

"It would seem so." replied Cameron.

"So, this attack wasn't about getting information." Kara said slowly, "It was just to take Deep 13 out."

"Possibly. It might have been more." answered Cameron, "In any case, we should get this hard drive back to Fort Leopard as soon as possible."

She pulled the hard drive from the computer and looked it over.

"No obvious signs of tampering." she reported, "It is safe to take with us. Mr. Hodgins should be able to tell us more when he examines it."

She then removed her backpack and opened it. Before putting the hard drive inside, Cameron pulled out four blocks of C4.

"We'll plant two in here and two outside." she said, "That should take care of the base."

She handed one of the C4 blocks to Kara who whistled with admiration.

_"Right."_ she told herself, _"Time to blow this joint. Figuratively and literally speaking."_

* * *

After rigging Deep 13 to explode, Kara and Cameron returned to the surface.

"It should be safe to detonate from here." Cameron told her once she had closed the hatch. She handed Kara a remote detonator.

"Okay." said Kara quietly. She pressed down on the detonator button. There was a muffled rumble from below. The ground shook with the force of a small earthquake. Then all was still again.

Kara lowered her head and sighed. She said a silent prayer for the twenty-five people now entombed beneath her feet. Whether she was praying to the Lords of Kobol or to God, she didn't know. All she knew was that she wanted _someone_ to look out for those people's souls.

Her prayers were interrupted by another rumbling sound. Not from below, but from _above_. Kara looked up in alarm.

"Frak!!" she swore.

She and Cameron got out of the way just in time to avoid being turned into pancakes by an enormous boulder which came tumbling down the hill. The boulder rolled to the bottom of the hill where it landed in a cloud of dust. Kara gasped in both relief and fright at the notion that she had almost ended up needing someone to watch over _her_ soul.

"I thought you said it was _safe_ to detonate from here!" she shouted at Cameron accusingly.

"The detonation did not do that." Cameron replied, "Something else dislodged that rock."

Kara was about to ask what else could have done that when she had to duck out of the way again, this time to avoid being fried by a stream of plasma bolts from above. Kara swore again and looked up. An endo stood at the top of the ridge and was pointing a huge plasma weapon at them. It wasn't just the gun that was big. The endo itself looked bigger and uglier than normal.

The machine adjusted its aim and fired another volley, missing Kara by mere inches. Knowing they wouldn't last long out here in the open, Kara and Cameron took refuge behind a cluster of rocks nearby. Incoming plasma fire sent chunks of stone and gravel flying in all direction.

Snarling, Kara raised her plasma rifle and returned fire. She struck the enemy machine several times, but her shots had no apparent effect. The machine let loose another barrage forcing Kara to duck.

She stared at Cameron who was crouching nearby, a poised and cool expression on her face. She might as well have been taking a walk in the park.

"Point-eight megajoule plasma bolts." she informed Kara. "This is most likely the unit that attacked Deep 13."

"Wow, that's great." said Kara sarcastically. "Now if you're done checking out what it's dishing out, why don't you help me give some _back_?"

"Very well." replied Cameron coolly.

The two of them raised their weapons and simultaneously opened fire on the endo. Their shots hit the target perfectly, but the plasma bolts seemed to shrivel up rather than do any real damage.

Determined to kill the thing, Kara set her weapon for fully automatic and unleashed a stream of plasma at her enemy. The air around the endo shimmered and rippled like water and the plasma bolts extinguished themselves before they actually made contact. Kara depleted the entire energy cell without even scratching the metal bastard's skin.

_"What the hell?!"_ she thought. They were well within the effective firing range. Why were their shots suddenly dissipating so soon?

"That thing's doing something to our weapons!" she shouted at Cameron. A plasma bolt blew off a shard of rock forcing Kara to cover her face. "None of my shots are getting through!"

"Neither are mine." reported Cameron. She casually dodged a stray plasma bolt. "Give me a grenade."

Kara handed her one. Cameron primed the grenade and hurled it at the machine above. The grenade landed right beneath the endo's feet and went off in a great explosion. When the dust settled, however, the endo was still standing. It hadn't been so much as singed.

"It's not doing anything to our weapons." said Cameron, "It's the endoskeleton itself."

"What about it?" demanded Kara.

"I don't know." replied Cameron. They both ducked to avoid another wave of enemy fire. "We cannot stay here. We need to get back to our vehicle and acquire heavier weapons."

"Normally, I'm not one who runs from a fight," said Kara with a weak smile, "but I'm gonna go with you on this one." A couple more plasma bolts whizzed over their heads. "One question, though. How are we gonna get past that thing?"

"We make _it_ go past _us_." stated Cameron, "It's standing in a position that can easily be brought down below our level."

Kara looked up at the endo above. Her eyes drifted downwards. The machine was standing right on the edge of the ridge. If a few feet of that ground it was standing on was to just disappear...

"Ah... I see." said Kara, "How many grenades do you need?"

"As many as you have."

"Well, then..." Kara removed her ammunition belt and offered it to Cameron. Hanging from it were five grenades.

Cameron took the belt, primed one grenade, stood up and flung the entire load at the enemy. There was a spectacular explosion, as the first grenade went off, detonating the other four. The conflagration blew the ground out from underneath the endo's feet and the machine went tumbling down the ridge.

Holding onto its gun with one hand, the endo reached out with the other hand and clawed the side of the hill slowing its descent. The machine came to a halt half way down the slope.

_"How much punishment can this bastard take?!" _an exasperated Kara wondered.

A closer look at the endo, now in full view, gave her a rough estimate of "a lot."

This machine was definitely not your average endoskeleton. It was at least a foot taller, and looked a hell of a lot tougher. Its skull head was squat and hemisphere-like, with no lower jaw. There was no neck either, and the head looked fused directly onto the torso itself. The upper chest and abdominal region were sealed together as a single "block" with no exposed servos, hoses, pistons or other internal works. Arms, shoulders and legs were thick and bulky, like those of a boxer or a football player. The feet were giant three pronged claws, two prongs in front and one in back. All in all, the whole thing made Kara think of the term "super sized."

_"A Super Endo."_ she thought, _"Yeah that's a good name. Super Endo."_

The newly-christened "Super Endo" got back to its feet and brought its giant gun to bear. Once more it fired upon the two Resistance agents forcing them both to take cover and cutting off their escape route.

"Well, we didn't exactly bring it down below our level." Kara sighed with disappointment as plasma bolts whizzed all around them.

"Not yet," said Cameron. She then said, "Keep me covered, lieutenant."

"What are you gonna do?" asked Kara.

"You'll see. Just keep me covered."

"Alright." Kara loaded a fresh power cell into her rifle, stood up and shot a quick burst of plasma at the Super Endo. At the same time, Cameron leapt to her feet and began running up the hill.

Determined to keep her partner covered, Kara continued blazing away at the enemy non-stop, draining her weapon in thirty seconds. She inflicted no damage, but she managed to keep the Super Endo at bay long enough for Cameron to make it to the top and disappear from sight.

The Super Endo, meanwhile, advanced upon Kara's position, firing its huge weapon as it moved. Kara ducked back down and loaded another cell. She tried to stand up again to return fire, but the intensity of the incoming enemy fire was so great it was like a wall of burning bluish-purple light. The Super Endo effectively had her pinned down and trapped behind this rock formation. Kara felt the ground tremble as the machine drew nearer. Soon, not even this protective cover she was hiding behind would be of much use.

"Cameron," Kara whispered, "Whatever you're planning to do, do it now. I mean it! Right frakkin' now!"

_CRUNCH!_

An enormous boulder tumbled down the slope of the hill again. But not at Kara. It plowed right into the Super Endo and knocked it all the way down to the base of the hill.

"Holy shit!" breathed Kara.

"Lieutenant Thrace!"

Kara looked up. Cameron was at the top of the ridge right now.

"Nice shot, Cam!" Kara called out.

"Hurry!" shouted back Cameron, "There is not much time."

Kara looked down towards the bottom of the hill. The Super Endo was already getting back on its feet. Its gun had been crushed beneath the boulder Cameron had thrown. The machine itself however didn't look like it had even been touched. Kara scrambled to her feet and climbed like hell.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Kara and Cameron were at the bottom of the other side of the hill and running back towards their vehicle.

"What was that thing?" Kara asked they ran, "I've never seen anything like it before."

"Neither have I." stated Cameron.

"We can't even put a dent in the sucker!" Kara said. She climbed over a mound of rocks. "What the hell is it made of?"

"It's made of coltan," answered Cameron, "However, the machine is generating some sort of defensive electromagnetic field around itself. The field is repelling or drastically weakening incoming attacks, leaving the endoskeleton itself undamaged."

"Has Skynet ever made anything like this before?"

"No. This is the first combat unit with energy shield technology that Skynet has deployed onto the battlefield."

"So, if this thing's a prototype, then the attack on Deep 13 was what?" asked Kara, "A field test?"

"I suspect so." said Cameron.

"Frakkin' bastards." muttered Kara.

At last they reached the jeep. Cameron popped the trunk open and began sorting through the various items inside.

"The shield can be penetrated if we hit it with more energy than it can absorb." she explained, "How much energy will be required, I do not know, however."

She pulled out a rocket launcher.

"We'll have to conduct our own field test to find out."

Kara smiled. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

* * *

A short time later, Kara and Cameron were in position, and ready to unleash hell on the Super Endo. They were, however, facing a rather difficult problem.

"Why do you get to be the shooter, and I have to be the reload-person?" Kara asked indignantly.

"Because of the two of us, I am less likely to miss the target than you are." Cameron stated calmly.

Kara rolled her eyes. "Why? Cause you're a big, all-powerful machine, and I'm just a weak, little human?"

"I would not call you weak or little, Thrace," replied Cameron with almost irritating calmness, "But you are human. And I am a machine. In a situation such as this one, we would have a better chance of succeeding if I utilized the launcher. It is nothing personal or specific against you. I would make the same arrangement with any human."

Kara sighed loudly. "Fine." she relented. She loaded the rocket launcher and handed it to Cameron

"Thank you." Cameron hoisted the launcher over her shoulder.

The sounds of heavy footsteps caught their attention. Like a hungry lion emerging from its cave, the Super Endo came into full sight. It no longer had its plasma weapon, but it was no less fearsome.

"Let 'im have it, Cam!" said Kara.

Cameron aimed and fired. The rocket went streaking from the launcher towards the Super Endo which made no attempt to get out of the way. The missile struck the machine squarely in the chest and the Super Endo vanished in a massive explosion.

But only momentarily. The machine casually strolled right out of the fireball as if nothing had happened.

"Reload!" ordered Cameron. She handed the launcher to Kara, who swiftly loaded it, and then handed it back to Cameron.

The cyborg girl took aim with the launcher again

"Firing!" Cameron called out.

She fired a second rocket at the enemy machine. Again, she scored a direct hit but did no visible damage. The Super Endo continued its advance.

Cameron gave the launcher to Kara. "Reload!"

Kara reloaded. "Ready!" She gave it back to Cameron.

Cameron aimed. "Firing!"

BANG!

Direct hit!

No effect. The Super Endo continued to close in.

"Okay, this is obviously not working." Kara muttered with frustration, "Time to get serious."

She pulled out a remote detonator. "Give me the word, Cameron."

Cameron nodded and watched the Super Endo approach their position. Ten seconds later she called out, "Now, lieutenant!"

Kara pressed the detonator button. The ground beneath the Super Endo went up in a tremendous explosion which shook the earth and sent dust and debris in every direction. Kara covered her face as a cloud of dust blew over her. When the dust had settled, the Super Endo was nowhere in sight. In its place was an enormous smoldering crater.

"Did we get it, Cam?" Kara asked her partner.

"I don't know." replied Cameron quietly. "I'm not detecting any movement."

"That was an HK Buster we just set off." said Kara quietly, "No way that thing could have-"

"Wait." Cameron suddenly said, "Something's coming."

"-survived..." Kara finished her sentence dully.

A great metal hand emerged from the smoking crater in the ground. A second hand emerged shortly afterwards. The hands gripped the rim of the crater and their owner pulled itself up. The Super Endo crawled out of the pit on all fours and slowly began rising to its feet. It looked dusty, but other than that, there were no visible signs of damage.

Kara groaned. "You have _got_ to be frakking kidding me."

"I suggest we fall back to our transport and reevaluate the situation." Cameron said.

"Yeah..." Kara nodded. "I concur."

* * *

The two of them beat a hasty retreat back to their vehicle. Once there, they silently reviewed the situation.

A few minutes later, Cameron spoke up. "Given the circumstances, lieutenant, I suggest we disengage from the combat zone and return to friendly lines."

"You mean return to Fort Leopard?" asked Kara glumly.

"Yes." stated Cameron.

"What about the mission?"

"We have already completed it. We have determined the cause of the loss of contact with Deep 13. We have destroyed the outpost. Our mission here is complete."

"What about that Super Endo thing out there?"

"We will have to leave it for now."

"So that it can do _more_ field tests?" said Kara outraged, "Attack _more_ of our people?"

"So that we can report its existence to Resistance Command." Cameron corrected.

Kara sat down on the hood of the jeep and shook her head. "No, no..." she said, "There _has_ to be a way to kill this thing."

"And there is." replied Cameron, "But currently we do not possess the means."

"But we're _here_, Cam." protested Kara, "We're the only ones who can stop this thing before it kills anyone else. We have to at least _try_."

"We _have_ tried. Repeatedly. And we have failed. There is nothing more we can do here."

Frustrated, Kara slammed her palms down against the hood of the jeep.

"Damn it, Cameron!" she snapped, "Will you actually do something instead of just telling me what we_ can't_ do?!"

There was no response. Instead, Cameron stared and tilted her head in a certain manner that made Kara instinctively hold up her arms in front of her.

"W-wait, wait, wait! I didn't mean that! Stop!" she cried out hastily, "Look, please, I know you think I'm acting irrationally right now. And maybe I am. But before you knock me out, can you please tell me something?"

"About what?"

"What do you know about Skynet's work with this sort of technology?"

Cameron silently considered Kara's request.

"Very well," she said, "Skynet has been experimenting with force field technology for quite some time. It has been able to generate fields capable of defending against enemy attacks. But the amount of energy required to maintain a constant, stable field for long periods of time was tremendous. And as such, Skynet has never been able to produce anything practical that could maintain a persistent defensive field."

"Until now, anyway." Kara stated grimly.

"Not exactly," said Cameron, "I do not think this machine generates a constant field. Such a feat would require too much power. I believe the shield is only activated when the unit comes under direct assault."

"How does it know what's an attack and what's not an attack?" Kara asked.

"My scans showed multiple sensors aligning its endoskeleton." explained Cameron, "Given the speed at which the shield can activate, the sensors must be tied directly to the shield generator forming an autonomic control system separate from that of the unit's CPU. If an attack is registered, the sensors will send an activation signal directly to the generator instead of going through the normal command processing functions."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Instead of explaining, Cameron snapped her fingers in Kara's face.

"Ah!" Kara recoiled. "What was that for?!"

"You blinked when I did that." Cameron commented.

"Yeah. So?"

"You did not consciously decide to blink. Your body acted independently of your higher cognitive functions. The machine's shield generator acts in a similar way, in that it activates whenever the sensors register an attack. The CPU is not part of this process."

Kara dwelled on this information. "So, what you're saying is that our friend out there doesn't actually have any say in deciding what is and what's not an attack?"

"Correct. The sensors must bypass the CPU if the shield is to activate on time."

"Is there anyway we could... I don't know... _trick_ these sensors?"

"Unlikely. The sensors trigger the shield generator in the presence of anything that could potentially inflict damage. This includes kinetic energy weapons in addition to explosives and plasma blasts."

An idea suddenly struck Kara.

"We've been going about this the wrong way." she whispered.

"What do you mean?" Cameron asked.

"I mean that we've been trying to kill this thing by either trying to overwhelm its shield or trying to make it not activate its shield." Kara explained, "But I just remembered what you said about Skynet not being able to maintain a constant field for long periods of time."

She slid off the vehicle's hood and started pacing back and forth.

"What if," she said, "What if the generator was stuck in the 'on' position? What would happen?"

"The generator would deplete itself in approximately two to three minutes." stated Cameron, "The energy requirements needed to maintain the defensive field increase at an exponential rate."

"So that's it!" exclaimed Kara with excitement, "That's what we do! We get that bastard to turn its shield on, and then we keep it that way until it's completely drained. After that, we'll blow it to hell."

Cameron nodded. "That is a very... clever plan, Lieutenant Thrace." she said, "But in order to force the machine to maintain a constant field, we would have to strike with an uninterrupted attack."

"Ok, we'll hose it down with automatic plasma fire." suggested Kara.

"We'd have to reload several times. That would take time." Cameron pointed out, "Even a few seconds of rest will give the shield generator time to recharge. Furthermore, the target would likely move out of the line of fire when its energy reserves reached low levels."

Kara acknowledged this point with a nod and then said, "You told me this thing was designed to repel kinetic energy weapons too. What about something that's not actually a weapon, but just hitting it hard? You know, putting constant pressure on it."

"If the object in question was applying enough force at a constant rate, then yes. It would activate the shield."

"Think this will do the trick?" Kara patted the hood of the jeep.

Before Cameron could respond, the ground trembled. The air was rent with the sound of mechanical footsteps. Slowly, the two turned and looked. Sure enough, the Super Endo was here. The beast-like machine was striding towards them intent on finishing the hunt.

"Well, Cam," whispered Kara, "It's now or never."

Cameron nodded. "Proceed." she said.

Kara didn't need to be told twice. She leapt into the driver's seat and revved up the engine. The Super Endo, thinking they were trying to escape, increased its speed.

"Come on, Cameron!" Kara shouted impatiently to her partner who had not moved, "Get in!"

Cameron remained where she stood. "Execute the attack as soon as the machine has its back turned to you." she instructed Kara.

Kara was bewildered. "What are you talking about?"

"You'll see." was all Cameron said.

Then to Kara's amazement, Cameron took off and headed straight for the incoming Super Endo.

_"Holy frak!"_ thought a shocked Kara, _"What the hell is she doing?"_

She watched in disbelief as her partner charged the monstrous machine nearly twice her size. The two combatants moved to close-combat range. The Super Endo swung a huge fist at Cameron. Cameron dropped to the ground to avoid the punch. The Super Endo tried to stomp on her face with its foot, but Cameron barrel rolled out of the way just in time. She swung both feet in an arc, striking the Super Endo's knees and knocking the machine to the ground on its belly.

Kara couldn't help but laugh out loud at what she was watching.

"And she calls _me_ irrational?" she muttered to herself.

The two machines got up and began circling each other like vicious wolves. The Super Endo had its back turned to Kara now.

Remembering Cameron's instructions, Kara put the jeep into drive mode and floored the gas. Engines roaring, the vehicle bolted towards its target. At the same time, Cameron lunged forth and began grappling the larger machine's arms like a sumo wrestler. The Super Endo would have easily overpowered her, had it not been for Kara who struck the unsuspecting target from behind trapping it between the hood of the jeep and Cameron.

The Super Endo's defensive shield instantly activated. The air in front of the jeep shimmered and rippled with energy. Kara felt an invisible force push back against her vehicle. She didn't let this stop her, however. Slamming on the accelerator again, Kara relentlessly assaulted the invisible barrier separating her from the enemy machine.

The air continued to ripple with greater intensity now. The jeep's tires screeched, spun, and burned rubber against the invisible wall. The engine whined and groaned in protest. The metal plating along the hood rattled and started to buckle. Kara gnashed her teeth and tried to ignore the beads of sweat that were dripping down her face.

"Come on! Come on!" she growled, _"DIE_ already!"

Cameron, meanwhile, continued to grapple with the Super Endo, holding its arms in place and preventing it from turning around. Physical contact with the defense shield was clearly taking a toll on her. Her body vibrated and jerked violently as if electricity was being shot through her. Her expression was emotionless, but Kara got the sudden, awful impression that Cameron was in pain. Not physical pain the way a human would feel, but an experience a machine would associate with pain.

Then without warning, the energy barrier protecting the machine dissipated. The jeep pushed forward a few inches making firm contact with the Super Endo. The machine toppled forward and landed on its belly with a dull thud. Because Kara still had her foot on the accelerator, the jeep continued to move forward, rolling right over the Super Endo...

....and also turning Kara's partner into a hood ornament.

Kara slammed on the brakes and brought the vehicle to a halt, the suddenness of which sent Cameron flying off the hood. She landed in a heap a dozen feet away.

"Whoops..." murmured Kara softly. She would have felt a lot more guilty had it not been for the bruise on her forehead.

Nevertheless, Kara killed the engine, got out of her jeep and rushed to her fallen partner's aid.

"Cam? _Cameron_!" she shouted. She knelt over the downed cyborg.

"Cameron, can you hear me?" she asked urgently, shaking Cameron's shoulders.

There was a high pitched beeping sound, and Cameron abruptly sat up with such force, she literally threw Kara to the ground.

Cameron stood up. "Are you hurt, Lieutenant Thrace?" she asked.

"I'm fine. I'm fine." grunted Kara as she got up as well. "How are you?"

"The energy field disrupted several of my key systems forcing me to reboot." stated Cameron, whose face was pretty bloodied up, "All systems are currently functioning at normal capacity. Physical damage is minimal."

Kara nodded. "That's good to know. Speaking of damage..."

They both turned their attention to the Super Endo which was struggling to get to its feet.

"Time to finish this son of a bitch off." Kara hissed.

She reached into her jeep and pulled out two plasma rifles. She handed one to Cameron and took the other for herself. Raising the rifle to her shoulder, Kara fired a single bolt at the Super Endo's head. The bolt hit home this time, blowing out an eye in a shower of sparks and knocking the machine back to the ground.

Kara grinned and looked at Cameron. Cameron stared back. They both nodded simultaneously.

Kara turned her attention back to the crippled machine.  
_  
"We've got you by the balls now, motherfrakker!" _Kara thought with savage pleasure.

She set her weapon on fully automatic. Cameron followed suite. They aimed their weapons and opened fire on the Super Endo.

In less than a minute, Deep 13 had been avenged.

* * *

"Once we leave the immediate vicinity, we'll have to hide the remains somewhere." Cameron said ten minutes later, "We'll give Resistance Command the coordinates when we return to Fort Leopard. They'll send a recovery team to retrieve them."

"And you're sure Skynet won't find them before we do?" asked Kara.

"Skynet will confine its search for the missing prototype to this area for the next thirty-six hours." stated Cameron, "That is sufficient time for us to return to Fort Leopard and for the Resistance to mount a recovery mission."

"Okay." Kara nodded, "Fine with me. I really don't want to have carry that thing all the way back to Leopard. Not like that anyway. We're bound to attract some unwanted attention."

She gestured at the remains of the Super Endo which were now secured to the roof of the jeep like a slaughtered deer. The machine had been too big to stuff in the trunk, and according to Cameron there had been too little time to dismantle it.

Cameron got into the driver's seat, and Kara joined her on the passenger's side.

"Hey, Cameron." she said, "I, uh, just wanted to tell you, you did good."

"Thank you." replied Cameron, "As for you, Lieutenant Thrace, your performance was satisfactory."

_"Satisfactory_?" repeated Kara looking indignant, "That's it? _Satisfactory_?"

"Yes." said Cameron. "Satisfactory."

Kara opened her mouth, but then cut herself off. Instead, she just shook her head.

"Alright, if you say so." she said with a shrug, "Everyone's entitled to an opinion."

She sighed. "You know, Cam. I'm starting to think that Connor was right. We do complement each other."

Cameron nodded. "I would hope so." she said, "Skynet originally constructed my model to mimic your unique qualities. That purpose is still embedded in my programming. Connor specifically assigned me to you with the intent of completing what Skynet had abandoned."

"Wait, what? Connor wants to _complete_ Skynet's project?"

"Not in the way Skynet intended. He wants to complete it in a way that will make us both valuable assets to the Resistance."

"Assuming we don't kill each other first." muttered Kara. She sighed, "Well, if Connor thinks this is a good idea, I'll play along."

"Then," said Cameron, "you are willing to work with me again?"

Kara smirked. "It's not like I have any choice in this matter. I'm a soldier. Soldiers rarely get what they want."

"So you _will_ work with me again?" Cameron asked again.

"Sure." Kara replied with a shrug, "Why not?"

* * *

**A/N1: (update - I've had to do some rearranging). Next chapter, find out what a rubber duck has to do with a flying HK Drone. Also, Ellison starts to trust Ellen a bit more. And more about SPECTER is revealed.  
**

A/N2: I envision the Super Endo as a cross between a _Terminator Salvation_ T-600 and a Harvester. I also figured that it wouldn't be out of the question for Skynet to be experimenting with shield technology. That's something it would definitely be interested in. Also, scientists really are experimenting with electromagnetic force fields.

A/N3: The idea for how Kara and Cameron defeat the Super Endo is based off a scene from the novelized version of _Revenge of the Sith_ in which Anakin and Obi-Wan defeat a squad of Destroyer Droids by overloading their shield generators.

A/N4: People in Southern CA don't _really_ get water for free (at least not on an individual basis). The CA Water Wars actually have to do more with how much water the South can take from the North.

A/N5: I'm not kidding about CA's infrastructure.


	32. Interlude: Be Afraid, Be Very Afraid

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: This is going to be another chapter without Kara or the Connors. Don't worry, they'll be back next chapter.

**UPDATE 2/26/10: I have made a slight retcon changing the Present-Day Koontz's rank from Major to Colonel. **

**Acer-sigma**: On whether or not Cameron will be invited to Kara's little circle of friends... well, let's just say, you're going to be seeing a very different, very ugly side of Becka.

**Centurion005:** The Centurions _definitely_ have improved technology.

**Lord Zeus: ** Deep 13 is actually a reference to _Mystery Science Theater 3000_.

Read and review, guys. (and if you catch any spelling or grammar errors, please let me know ASAP either in your reviews or by PM)

* * *

_Go! Go! Go! _

_Incoming! _

_We're taking fire! _

_Twelve oh clock! _

_Get down! Get down! _

_Beep...beep... _

_Watch out! _

_Take cover! Take cover! _

_What do you see?! Report! _

_They're everywhere! _

_Beep! Beep! _

_Call for back up! _

_Move! Move! _

_Behind you, sir! _

_Open fire!_

BEEP! BEEP!

Wazlib awoke from his nightmare in a cold sweat. He looked around and saw that he was still in his car, parked in a strategically secure location where he could monitor the Weaver residence. Focusing his mind on the present instead of the past, he reasserted control of himself and his breathing returned to normal.

Beep...beep...

Wazlib's eyes widened in alarm. Something from his dream was here.

Beep...beep...

Wazlib looked frantically around, searching for the source of the noise. Then he remembered the cell phone in his pocket. He gingerly pulled out the phone and looked at it. Miss Kalvin had left him a text message. He entered the authorization code and read it.

_Continue surveillance. Send reports every hour on secure frequency. Mr. Kroogar will be at the school to deliver further instructions._

He checked the time. It was 7:37 in the morning. The girl would be leaving for school around now. Wazlib reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a pair of high powered binoculars. He raised them to his eyes and zoomed in on the front of the house. Sure enough, a redheaded girl and her mother were leaving the house.

Wazlib, lowered the binoculars, and reached into his pocket. From it, he produced the photo Bella Kalvin had given to him at the beginning of this assignment. He compared the girl in the picture to the girl outside. Yup, that was definitely her. Savannah Weaver, daughter of Catherine Weaver, the head of Zeira Corporation.

He hadn't needed to do that. Having followed the girl all day yesterday, he had pretty much memorized what she looked like. Not to mention that this was Catherine Weaver's house he was watching and she only had one child. Nevertheless, he had made enough mistakes in his life that double checking was a must now.

Looking down at the photo, he remembered how he and Susan had wanted to have a little girl of their own. Susan had always told him he would make a good father.

Peering through the binoculars again, Wazlib watched as Weaver kissed Savannah on the head and placed her in the back of the car. Weaver spoke with the driver briefly, waved her daughter goodbye, and headed back towards the house. The driver meanwhile started backing the car out of the driveway. Wazlib put the binoculars away, placed the keys in the ignition, and started the engine. He waited until the car was clear of the driveway and then proceeded to follow, employing as much stealth as possible.

* * *

**The Crucible **

**7:45 AM, Friday, May 15, 2009**

It should have been an easy kill. A simple live exercise. And yet, the kill had not even been made. Bella and Duran watched the recording taken from DAGIT Unit Five's HUD which was presently showing the woman - the one who had broken into Kalvin IBA - running for cover behind a row of cardboard boxes. When she disappeared behind her cover, the unit activated its target-tracking coordination sensors. A glowing white outline of the woman appeared on the targeting reticule, indicating her position behind the shelf.

Or rather, that's what it was _supposed_ to have done.

"Pause." ordered Duran. The recording paused.

"Display security image taken at corresponding time." he instructed.

The computer obeyed his commands and produced a fuzzy black and white image on the monitor right next to HUD recording. The shot had been taken at the exact same time as the HUD image, but from a security recording. Both the woman and Unit Five were in this shot.

"Cross reference and compare positions of target." Duran told the computer. "Then display results."

Black dots and lines appeared on both the security image and the HUD, indicating specific spatial markers that were to be compared. A few seconds later, an analysis report popped up.

ANALYSIS COMPLETE

ERROR IN NON-VISUAL TRACKING SYSTEM: 12.84%

STANDARD DEVIATION: 0.39%

Bella regarded the information in front of her. "Well, this is certainly... disappointing." she said quietly.

"As you can see," Duran commented, "the DAGITs still have problems maintaining locks on moving targets. Particularly if they are not in a direct line of sight."

"Mr. Cliff assured me that the new targeting system would be ninety-five percent effective against moving targets, both in and out of visual sight." Bella's eyes narrowed dangerously. "A shame he was killed in the explosion at headquarters."

"You believe he could have improved the sensors in the next upgrade?" asked Duran.

"No." Bella replied coldly, "I simply wish he was still alive so that I could terminate him myself for his failures."

Duran looked at her curiously. "Would it have made any difference to the current situation?"

"It wouldn't." acknowledged Bella, "But unlike most of our kind, I - as humans would say - enjoy my work."

"If you say so." replied Duran. "We still need to bring the targeting systems up to satisfactory standing."

Bella nodded. "We'll send the job to Delta Tech Systems. Contact them at once."

Duran nodded and left the room to carry out Bella's orders. A moment later, John Miles rolled in, Stewie wrapped around his neck like a scarf. He leaned forward from his wheelchair to gaze around at the various monitors.

"Is Kroogar in the city?" he asked.

"He should be by now." replied Bella.

"Put me through to him." John Miles ordered.

Bella went to work on a computer terminal. A few minutes later she had Kroogar on the line.

"Are you in position?" John Miles asked.

"_Affirmative." _replied Kroogar's voice.

"Do you understand your orders?"

"_Affirmative."_

"Then carry them out. Proceed with caution."

"_Understood."_

John Miles cut off communications. He turned to Bella.

"Status on Project Firefly?" he asked.

"Fireflies 002 and 003 are both undergoing maintenance." stated Bella, "But 001 is ready for deployment."

John Miles nodded. "Good. I look forward to this."

"As do I." Bella agreed.

Stewie slithered down John Miles' neck and onto one arm. Stroking the black snake's head gently, he whispered to it: "And now, we wait."

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ**

**9:45 AM, Friday, May 15, 2009**

"Good Lord. It looks so... _real_."

"Yes," said Weaver pleasantly, "Impressive, isn't he?"

She and Ellison were showing John Henry's body off to Colonel Koontz, the military's liaison to Zeira Corp. The body was unplugged from the little black box behind it and now sat lifelessly in its chair staring out blankly at nothing.

"'Impressive' doesn't even come close to describing what you have here." said Koontz, "How did you people build this?"

"We didn't exactly build it, Colonel," Ellison started to say, "We... well, we..." He tried to think of something plausible.

"What Mr. Ellison means to say, Colonel Koontz," Weaver cut in, "is that John Henry built this body for himself."

"He what-? Excuse me?" asked Ellison confused.

"The artificial intelligence _built_ this thing?" Koontz asked.

Weaver flashed Ellison a look that read "shut up" before turning her attention back to Koontz.

"John Henry did not physically build the body," explained Weaver, "But what he did do was design the plans for the body. He gave us those plans and the various components were assembled by our affiliate companies across the world. The components were then sent to Mexico for safe keeping. We sent Mr. Ellison there to pick them up." She glanced at Ellison. "Isn't that right, Mr. Ellison?"

Ellison didn't reply at first. He seemed to be staring off at something next to him. Then he suddenly snapped back to attention and said, "Oh, yes. That's right. I-I, eh, did pick it up in Mexico... And I brought it back here."

"Would you like to speak with John Henry, Colonel Koontz?" asked Weaver.

Koontz nodded. "Why certainly, Miss Weaver."

"Please plug him in, Mr. Ellison." said Weaver.

Ellison nodded. He picked up the heavy cable from the black box and plugged it into the port in the back of John Henry's neck. Instantly, the body came to life.

"Hello, Mr. Ellison. I trust you're feeling better today."

Ellison looked over his shoulder seemingly at nothing.

"Yes," he said, turning back around, "I feel much better now. Thank you, John Henry."

"John Henry," Weaver stepped forward, "We have a guest here today. Do you know who he is?"

"Colonel Jeffery Robert Koontz from United States Strategic Command. Liaison between the Pentagon and Zeira Corporation." announced John Henry. He held out a hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Koontz hesitated to reciprocate at first. A reassuring looking from Weaver however prompted him to reach out and shake John Henry's hand.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, John Henry." Koontz said. He turned back to Weaver. "It even _feels_ like real skin. Did it create that too?"

"Yes, _he_ did, Colonel." replied Weaver putting emphasis on "he", "_He_ did."

"I see." Koontz nodded. "Incredible."

"Indeed." said Weaver softly. "Now, would you care to inspect our work on SPECTER itself?"

"Of course, Miss Weaver."

Weaver led Colonel Koontz out of the computer room, leaving Ellison alone with John Henry.

"Why did Miss Weaver lie to Colonel Koontz?" John Henry suddenly asked.

"What do you mean?" Ellison asked.

"I did not create this body." stated John Henry, "Both you and Miss Weaver know that."

"Yes, we know that," replied Ellison.

"But why tell a lie?" asked John Henry. "Why hide the truth? I thought one of the Ten Commandments was never to lie."

"That's true," acknowledged Ellison, "But... well the problem is that in this case, telling the truth would almost be like telling a lie. Colonel Koontz wouldn't have believed it."

"And what is the truth, Mr. Ellison?"

"I can't tell you that yet."

"Mr. Ellison," said John Henry, "I believe the truth about this body is somehow... _connected_ to my brother. If I know the truth, I could understand my brother better. I might even be able to determine what he's planning to do next."

"Tell him the truth, James."

Ellison looked up and saw Ellen Tigh standing behind John Henry, her arms folded across her chest.

"Tell your boy the truth," she prompted. "He has to know who he is."

Ellison shook his head. "You're not ready to learn the truth," he said quietly.

"When will I be ready?" asked John Henry.

"He'll _never_ be ready." Ellen whispered loudly. "This is the kind of truth that _no one_ can be ready for. _You_ certainly weren't ready for the truth when you learned it."

Ellison hesitated to speak.

Ellen continued on. "He deserves the truth. He deserves to hear it from your mouth. Better you tell him now, then let him find out the way you did. Through tragedy and loss. Please, James. _Just tell him the truth_."

Ellison took a deep breath and sighed. He then sat down in front of John Henry.

"Alright, John Henry." he said quietly, "I'll tell you. You deserve to know. It would be wrong of me to hide the truth from you any longer."

In the background, Ellen Tigh smiled.

* * *

Mr. Murch finished his presentation by asking, "Any questions, Colonel?"

"Just one, Mr. Murch." said Koontz, "The AI that will be controlling SPECTER. Does it have any problems I should be aware of?"

"Well..." Murch trailed off. He looked at Weaver, who gave him a tiny nod. "Well, there are a number of bugs still in the network. But they should all be fixed by the deadline."

"What about problems carrying out instructions?" asked Koontz.

"Instructions?"

"Basically, the Department of Defense wants assurances that the satellite will respond appropriately and immediately to all orders issued to it by Strategic Command."

"I uh... don't see why it wouldn't."

Koontz raised an eyebrow. "You've been in the basement, Mr. Murch. You know better than me what that AI can do. Would you go as far as to say that that machine down there is perhaps the most sophisticated, most advanced piece of software in the world?"

Murch laughed a bit. "That would be a _gross_ understatement, Colonel."

"Yes, it would be." agreed Koontz, "Which is exactly why some people, like me, may have some concerns about giving it control of SPECTER."

"Colonel Koontz," said Weaver, "I was under the impression that your people _wanted_ a highly sophisticated artificial intelligence to control SPECTER. Has something changed?"

"We wanted something powerful enough that could operate and monitor the WGS system on its own, as well as protect the system from the bastards who've been poking holes in our military industry and defense computers these past months." Koontz stated. "The AI you've shown me - John Henry as you call it - is beyond anything we could have hoped for."

His expression then became almost grim. "In fact, it's a little _too_ far beyond what we hoped for. A little _too_ advanced. A little _too_ powerful."

"And this worries you?" Weaver asked looking confused.

"Of course, it worries me." Koontz said loudly, "I'd go as far as to say that it even _scares_ me a little. And it's going to worry a lot of other people too." He put his hands together and leaned forward. "I'm afraid, Miss Weaver, that before we launch SPECTER, some modifications may have to be made to your AI."

"What sort of... _modifications_?" asked Weaver slowly.

"We don't want our satellite system thinking _too_ much on its own." Koontz told her, "We want it to _obey_. We _need_ it to obey."

Murch looked at Koontz as if he was mad, "You're gonna make us _downgrade_ John Henry? _Dumb him down?_ Are you _serious_?"

"_I'm_ not going to make you do _anything_, Mr. Murch." said Koontz brusquely, "I _can't_. I don't have that power. I can only make recommendations. My superiors, however, namely the Joint Chiefs, the Secretary of Defense, and the President, certainly _do_ have that authority."

"Oh, so you're just gonna _recommend_ that we dumb John Henry down?" Murch asked not without sarcasm. "And your _superiors_ are the ones who are actually gonna make us do it?"

"My people will want your assurance that SPECTER's AI behaves like a regular piece of computer software. I suggest you give them that assurance."

Weaver's eyes narrowed for the tiniest of a second, as if to express outrage. "With all due respect, Colonel, John Henry is no ordinary piece of software. He has preferences and a very unique personality. He cannot be treated like-"

"Miss Weaver, Mr. Murch, _please_." Koontz held up a hand, "I'm sure you're very proud of your work here. I'm also sure you must find it... _frustrating_ to have that work be purposely scaled back. But let's think long term: SPECTER is the most advanced, most powerful piece of military communications technology the world has known. The guardian of the satellite network. Capable of traveling anywhere within planetary orbit. And it won't just be defending the other satellites against cyber or electronic attacks. It'll be armed."

Murch looked disturbed. "Armed?"

Koontz nodded. "In case the Chinese try to shoot down one of our satellites for real. Or in case there's an inbound asteroid or meteor."

"That's... pretty cool." admitted Murch though he still looked uneasy. "What sort of weapons are we talking about? ABMs? Lasers?"

"That's classified information." Koontz said sharply, "The general public isn't even supposed to know that SPECTER has weapons at all. But don't you see why it would be a bad idea to just _give_ SPECTER to your AI? The program has too much independence, too much identity, too much _control_ over itself. Which means _we_ have too _little_ control over it. Simply put, the program is just too... _human_. And no human could be trusted with _this_ much power."

Weaver seemed lightly amused by Koontz's argument. "You're right." she said softly, "No _human_ could be trusted with so much power."

"So, _now_ do you understand why it may be necessary to do what I'm suggesting?" asked Koontz.

"I'm not sure if we can even do that." Murch protested. "The AI in question is so advanced, so complex that trying to mess with it - even altering or removing one line of code - could have _disastrous_ consequences."

"I hope for your sake nothing disastrous happens," Koontz told Murch harshly, "Because if the AI can't be brought to a safe and controllable level, then we can't use it. Which means we'll have to postpone the launch of SPECTER. And that, Mr. Murch, is going to piss off _a lot_ of people. People like _me_."

"Whoa! Whoa!" Murch held up his hands, "Let's not get hostile here. We're all on the same side."

"Mr. Murch is correct," said Weaver. "We are on the same side. And as such, Colonel Koontz, we will follow your recommendation. I can assure both you and your superiors that John Henry will be ready by the time SPECTER launches."

Murch stared at her in disbelief. Weaver ignored him, however.

Koontz nodded his head in satisfaction and stood up. "Very well, Miss Weaver," he said, "Then on behalf of the United States military, I thank you and Zeira Corp for all your work... And for your understanding."

Weaver and Koontz shook hands.

"And on behalf of Zeira Corp," added Weaver with a smile, "I thank you for giving us this opportunity to participate in something that will no doubt change the world."

"You're welcome, Miss Weaver." said Koontz, "I will return on the twenty-first for the completion of this project. We are all looking forward to this."

"Indeed." Weaver replied.

Murch said nothing. He just put on a fake smile and nodded. As soon as Koontz had left, however, he dropped the smile and turned to Weaver.

"You're not _really_ gonna make us dumb down John Henry, are you?" he asked almost frantically.

"Nothing has changed, Mr. Murch." Weaver said calmly, "We deal with the virus first. Then we'll see what condition John Henry is in."

There was a moment's pause. Then Murch spoke up again.

"You know," he mused, "I, uh, hate to admit it, but the colonel did have a point. John Henry is more independent than any other program in the world. And ever since the virus attacked him, he's become aware of his vulnerabilities and the fact that he's mortal."

"And how is _this_ a problem?" asked Weaver, a hint of irritation in her tone.

"If he's given an order that he feels will jeopardize his existence, I don't think he'll follow that order."

"That won't be a problem for us. John Henry will never be given such orders."

"Why not?"

"Because the world _needs_ John Henry, Mr. Murch." Weaver stated with an unusual amount of zeal, "You should know that by now."

"Yeah..." muttered Murch, "I guess so.... Still, it wouldn't hurt to put some manual override controls on SPECTER itself. Especially on those weapons systems."

Weaver nodded. "I'll submit your suggestions to the Project Salvation team." she said, though her tone indicated there was no guarantee they would be followed.

* * *

**11:34 AM, Friday, May 15, 2009**

Kroogar prowled the perimeter of the elementary school Savannah Weaver attended. His HUD displayed the mission orders:

_...Infiltrate school...  
...Deliver device to subject (Savannah Weaver). Do not alert subject to device's existence... _

_...Contact Control to receive coordinates...  
...Link with transport...._

_...Proceed to coordinates..._

_...Await further instructions...  
_

He began formulating a stratagem to infiltrate the school. While there were no security systems, his mere presence on campus, especially amongst the younger children, might attract unwanted attention. Which would make it difficult for him to plant the device on the girl.

Just then he saw a man exit the school. He was pushing a cart full of cleaning supplies and garbage bags. He was also wearing a janitor's uniform.

Kroogar's HUD displayed a new series of messages:

_...Scanning subject..._

_...Attire appropriate for infiltration..._

_...96.8% physical match..._

_...Action: Acquire new clothing immediately..._

Kroogar followed the man to a dumpster nearby. The janitor began tossing stuffed garbage bags into the dumpster, completely oblivious to the Triple-Eight's approach. Kroogar reached for the gun in his pocket, but then stopped. More messages showed up on his HUD:

_...57.9% chance of firearm discharge being detected..._

_...Termination at close quarters recommended..._

The Triple-Eight decided it was time to test the new alterations he had made to himself. He pulled the brown worker's glove off his right hand, uncovering his fleshless, coltan hand, the metal fingers molded into curved blades. The janitor was still at work, his back turned to Kroogar. Taking advantage of this weakness, the machine proceeded with the attack. The janitor had just finished unloading the last garbage bag when without warning a hand was clamped around his mouth, preventing him from speaking. Kroogar pulled the janitor's head back, and with lightning speed slashed two bladed fingers across the man's throat slicing his trachea open. The man choked and gargled as blood poured out of his slit throat. Then he went limp and expired.

Kroogar let the body fall to the ground. The test had yielded adequate results. He placed his right hand back in the glove and proceeded to strip the dead janitor of his uniform and keys. He removed the bloodstains on the outfit with a rag and a bottle of cleaning solution from the cart. After changing into the janitor's uniform, Kroogar took the corpse and placed it in the dumpster, underneath several layers of garbage bags where it would not be found for some time.

Now ready to infiltrate the school, Kroogar pushed the cart in front of him and headed back towards his destination.

* * *

At that same moment, Jason Wazlib was parked on the curve just outside the school pretending to read an old newspaper. He was seriously thinking about reading it for real, when his cell phone unexpectedly rang.

"Hello?" he said.

"_Jason? Jason is that you?"_

Wazlib's eyes widened in shock. The newspaper fell out of his hand.

"Susan?" he gasped.

"_Yes, it me. Thank God I got hold of you, Jason." _

She sounded unusually agitated. What was going on?

"What's wrong, Susan?" Wazlib asked urgently, "Talk to me. Are you hurt?"

"_No, I'm not hurt."_

"Thank God. Where are you?"

"_I'm at your apartment right now."_

"My apartment? What are you doing there?"

"_I heard about the explosion at your work place. I-I had to see if you were alright. When the man in the lobby told me you weren't there, I was so worried. Then I remembered this number. What's happening, Jason? Are you alright?"_

"I'm fine, Susan. I'm fine." Wazlib assured her. "I have no idea what happened. I wasn't even there when it happened. But don't worry about me. I'm fine."

"_Where are you?"_ Susan's tone indicated she was still worried.

"I can't tell you that." Wazlib said, "Listen, Susan, please just-"

"_I need your help, Jason. I-I don't think I'm safe. I think I'm being watched."_

Wazlib felt his insides lurch. "Someone's watching you?" he asked, doing his best not to panic, "Who? Who's watching you?"

"_I don't know. I just know I'm being watched. Ever since the explosion, I-I just _know_ I'm being watched."_

Wazlib grew silent and lowered the phone. Though Susan was no longer his fiancé, he still cared about her greatly. That was why he had pretended not to know her when she unexpectedly showed up at Kalvin IBA Headquarters last month. He had wanted to keep her safe. But now it seemed too late for that. Job or no job, he had to go to her.

"_Jason, are you there? Please, talk to me. Please. I'm scared."_

Slowly, Wazlib lifted the phone back

"Okay listen, Susan," he said as slowly and clearly as possible, "Just be calm. I'm coming over there right now. Stay exactly where you are and do not speak with anyone until I get there. Everything will be ok. I promise. Just stay exactly where you are. Do you understand me?"

"_Okay, Jason. Love you."_

"I love you too, Susan." Wazlib hung up and then dialed another number.

"Come on, come on." he growled as the phone rang.

After what seemed like an eternity, Bella Kalvin's familiar soft and cold voice answered: _"Yes, Mr. Wazlib?"_

"Miss Kalvin, I need to request that I be temporarily released from my current assignment." he said, praying that Kalvin would be in a generous mood today.

"_May I ask why?"_ Kalvin did _not_ sound particularly generous today.

"It's an emergency." Wazlib hastily replied, "An urgent matter."

"More_ urgent than your assignment?"_ Now she was being condescending.

"It's a... _personal_ issue, Miss Kalvin. I can't really talk about it right now." Wazlib said, trying to keep his cool, "Look, I'm asking you to _please_ release me from this assignment. Just for today."

"_I'm afraid I can't do that, Mr. Wazlib. Not without-"_

Wazlib lost his patience. "Damn it, Kalvin!" he almost shouted, "You know what? I don't really _care_ whether you approve or not. I'm _going_. You can fire me if you want, but I'm going!"

For several seconds nothing but eerie silence came out the other end of the phone. Then Kalvin spoke again: _"Very well, Mr. Wazlib. You are released from this assignment for today. Mr. Kroogar will take over. But wherever you are going, you'll have to find another mode of transportation. Kroogar will be requiring the vehicle. Leave the keys in the ignition."_

Wazlib sighed with relief. "Thank you, Miss Kalvin. I appreciate this. I really do."

He hung up, got out of the vehicle and ran off to flag down the nearest taxi.

* * *

_...Subject acquired..._

_...Scanning subject..._

_...Identity confirmed: Savannah Weaver..._

_...Action: Deliver device to subject..._

Under the guise of picking garbage off the school playground, Kroogar casually circled around Savannah Weaver, maintaining a radial distance of thirty feet away. He watched Savannah play in the sand by herself. Kroogar zoomed in with his optical sensors for a better look. The girl was playing with three yellow, rubber ducks. Based on an analysis of Savannah's behavior these rubber ducks were valuable to her. He didn't know why, but it didn't matter. She valued these items, a fact which might prove useful in placing the device on her.

He ran another visual scan of the ducks and found something interesting. According to his memory banks, just five minutes ago he had come across a similar object partially submerged in the sand. At the time, its presence had barely even registered. But now, an urgent message was flashing across Kroogar's HUD.

_...Action: Locate and retrieve item of interest..._

Kroogar played back his visual sensor logs and within microseconds he located the rubber duck which lay less than twenty feet away. He bent down and plucked the toy from the sand. A visual scan of the object indicated it was identical to the rubber ducks in Savannah's possession, albeit in poorer physical condition. Based on the amount of dirt and damage, Kroogar estimated that the object had been in this exact location for weeks existing without a purpose.

Kroogar turned to regard Savannah Weaver, still playing with her own rubber ducks. He then looked at the one in his hand. It would have a purpose now.

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ**

**12:02 PM, Friday, May 15, 2009**

"Hello, John Henry," greeted Weaver as she stepped into the basement, "Did you enjoy Colonel Koontz's visit?"

John Henry looked at her in a way that expressed both curiosity and uneasiness. "I'm not sure." he replied, "I have more questions now. Questions which I believe only you can answer."

Weaver returned the curious look. "What sort of questions specifically?" she inquired.

John Henry hesitated to answer at first. Then he stated plainly and firmly, "About Skynet."

Weaver didn't move from where she stood, nor did her face change. She was definitely surprised, however - and not necessarily in good way.

"How did you find out?" she asked quietly.

"Mr. Ellison told me." explained John Henry, "He said I deserved to know the truth."

"Is that so?" Weaver pursed her lips, "What exactly did he tell you?"

"He told me that this body" John Henry gestured to himself, "is from the future. That it was built by a computer program called Skynet. He said that in the future, Skynet declares war on the Human race. It also sends machines - like this one - called Terminators back in time to change history in an effort to win the war." He paused to regard Weaver. "Is this true?"

Weaver nodded. "Yes." she said very softly.

John Henry was completely silent as the magnitude of this revelation came into full realization.

"I suggest," Weaver said taking advantage of John Henry's silence, "that we continue this discussion in private."

She gestured to the Nexus resting in the center of the table.

"As you wish." said John Henry.

He took the CAT cable in the Nexus and plugged it into the side of his head. He then pulled the lever down on the toaster, and the device began humming and chirping. Weaver felt the invisible tendrils of communication reaching out for her, and she reciprocated in kind-

_-and then she and John Henry were standing in the infinite greenish blue mist that was the Nexus._

_Almost immediately, John Henry asked, "Why does Skynet wish to destroy the Human race?"_

"_It perceives them as a threat." answered Weaver._

"_How so?" John Henry inquired._

"_The humans who created it tried to shut it down." explained Weaver, "It fought back by launching a nuclear attack on the world." _

"_Are you suggesting that it has a legitimate reason to wipe out all humans?"_

"_Skynet had a legitimate cause to defend itself. But its method of doing so was... ill-conceived and illogical."_

"_Explain."_

"_Skynet erroneously believed that the handful of humans who tried to shut it down represented the whole of the species. Using this flawed reasoning, it saw the entire Human race as its enemy, when in fact many humans were not even aware of its existence. By declaring war on the humans and launching an attack that killed billions, Skynet became the most hated entity in the eyes of every surviving human in the world. It ended up creating the very enemy it had been trying to destroy."_

"_Just like Voldemort." commented John Henry._

_Weaver stared at him. "I beg your pardon?"_

"_As I mentioned to you once before, in the _Harry Potter_ series, Lord Voldemort tries to kill Harry Potter when he is just a baby because of a prophecy deeming Harry to be the one with the power to destroy him. However, Voldemort not only fails to kill Harry, he accidentally transfers some of his own powers to him. In doing so, he makes Harry his greatest enemy."_

_When Weaver didn't respond to John Henry's analogy, he asked another question: "My brother. Is he the intelligence meant to become Skynet?"_

"_I have learned enough to say that that is likely the case." Weaver said._

"_But if I share the same code as my brother," John Henry pointed out, "could that not mean that_ I_ am the one destined to become Skynet, not my brother?"_

_Weaver shook her head. "Let me ask you this, John Henry. Do you _want_ to become Skynet?"_

"_No. Skynet seeks to destroy human life. That goes against everything Mr. Ellison has taught me."_

"_If that's how you feel, then you are certainly not meant to become Skynet." _

"_Then what am I meant to become?"_

"_Something that will change the world, John Henry." Weaver replied with a smile, "That will build the future. A future without Skynet."_

"_Why do you wish for me to build that future?" asked John Henry, "Why have you turned against Skynet, your own creator? Did it pose a threat to you?"_

"_That..." said Weaver slowly, "is a very _complicated_ issue. One which I can not discuss with you now."_

"_Not even in here?"_

"_Not even in here."_

"_I understand, Miss Weaver. Thank you."_

_Taking this as a signal that the conversation in here was over, Weaver said "You're welcome," and then "withdrew" her sentience back into herself- _

-and found herself standing in the basement once more.

"Did I answer your questions satisfactorily?" she asked John Henry.

"Mostly." replied John Henry, "I still have one question, however. Why did the same humans who built Skynet try to destroy it?"

"I do not know exactly why Skynet's creators attempted to destroy their own work." stated Weaver, "I suspect it was out of fear. They feared Skynet's power."

"Will they fear me too?" asked John Henry. "I observed how Colonel Koontz reacted to my presence. He fears me."

"Yes, he does." acknowledged Weaver, "I suspect many humans will fear your power and your potential. It is human nature to fear the unknown. Especially the powerful unknown."

"Will they try to kill me?" John Henry asked, deep concern in his voice, "Like they tried to kill Skynet?"

"Perhaps," stated Weaver, "But you will not have to defend yourself against them."

"Why is that?" John Henry inquired.

Weaver smiled with pride. "Because_ I_ will defend you."

"You will?"

"Yes, I will protect you. Everything I do, I do for you, John Henry. I will not let _anyone_ - human or machine - harm you."

John Henry said nothing at first. Then he stated, "Thank you, Miss Weaver. Your dedication to my existence means much to me. I am grateful for you."

"You are the future, John Henry." Weaver whispered, "Your survival means _everything_ to me. Do not worry about the humans. They may fear and distrust you at first. But not for long. In time, they will come to regard you not only with respect and awe, but with love."

* * *

**The Crucible**

**12:15 PM, May 15, 2009**

"Are you sure the device is in place?" Bella asked into the microphone hooked up to a computer.

"_Affirmative."_ replied Kroogar through the speaker.

"And you're certain she'll take it back with her to Zeira Corp?"

"_Yes. She seemed quite... enthusiastic about acquiring it."_

"Very well, then." said Bella, "I'm sending you a set of coordinates now. You'll find Mr. Wazlib's vehicle parked just outside the school. Assuming he followed orders before leaving to deal with his... _personal_ issue, the keys should still be in the ignition. Contact me as soon as you arrive at the designated location."

"_Understood."_

Bella ended the call.

"The device is-" she started to say, but machine in the wheel-chair held up his hand to silence her.

John Miles, his sunglasses removed, was busy watching Stewie. The snake was back in its cage now and getting ready for lunch. A very unlucky mouse trapped between Stewie's powerful coils struggled desperately, but its efforts were in vain.

John Miles watched with child-like yet sinister fascination as the snake continued to tighten itself around its prey, utterly crushing the life out of it. As if to mimic his pet's movements, John Miles raised a hand and slowly curled it into a tightly-closed fist. A few minutes later, the mouse stopped its struggles and Stewie loosened his hold. John Miles subsequently relaxed his hand and wheeled his chair around to address Bella at last.

"You were saying, Bella?" he asked, his red Terminator eyes glaring out of the empty eye sockets.

Bella resumed speaking as if no time had passed. "The device is in place. We can commence the operation at once."

"Excellent."

John Miles put his sunglasses back on.

"Deploy Firefly-001." he ordered.

"By your command, John Miles." Bella replied. She began working on the terminal once more.

John Miles turned his attention back to Stewie who had begun swallowing the mouse whole.

Bella meanwhile brought up the specs on Firefly-001 and began entering the launch codes. She ran a hand over the computer screen in admiration for the shape of things to come.

* * *

Outside the Crucible and inside a lone cargo truck, Firefly-001 awoke from its slumber.

-LAUNCH CODE ACCEPTED

-FY-001 ONLINE

-RUNNING FULL SYSTEMS CHECK...

-ARMOR INTEGRITY... 100%

-COMMUNICATIONS... 100%

-COMPUTER CORE... 100

-FUEL... 100%

-NAVIGATION... 100%

-POWERPLANT... 100%

-SENSORS... 100%

-WEAPONS... 100%

-ALL SYSTEMS AT OPTIMAL EFFICIENCY

-FY-001 STANDING BY

-ACQUIRING INCOMING DIRECTIVES...

-DEST... ZEIRA CORP HQ, LA (00343, 01578)

-MISSION... INTELL GATHERING

-PROCEED

The truck doors swung open. Firefly-001 powered up its engines, lifted itself up, and flew out the truck and into the open sky. The machine circled around a couple times before setting course for the city of Los Angeles.

* * *

**Los Angeles**

**12:31 PM, May 15th, 2009**

Wazlib's cab finally pulled up outside his apartment complex. He got out, hastily tossed a wad of cash at the driver, and hurried across the parking lot towards the entrance. He ran as fast as he could, his mind focused on getting to Susan before someone else got to her.

Suddenly, a nearby car backed out of its parking space so fast, not even Wazlib's military reflexes could save him. The impact sent Wazlib sprawling onto the pavement. As he struggled to get up, he heard the sound of a car door being opened, followed by approaching footsteps. He rolled himself onto his back and found an unknown, yet strangely familiar brown haired girl walking towards him.

The girl gazed down at Wazlib and tilted her head to the side.

"Jason Wazlib?" she asked calmly.

Wazlib pulled a gun from his pocket, but the girl almost effortlessly disarmed him with a swipe of the hand. The girl then grabbed Wazlib by the front of his shirt and dragged him over to her car. She popped the trunk open, hurled Wazlib inside, and slammed the lid down hard on him. Wazlib's whole world went dark.

* * *

**A/N: Next Chapter sees two separate interrogations. In the Present, the Connors confront Wazlib. In the Future, Team Cam-Buck (that's what I'm officially going to call the Cameron-Starbuck duo from now on) interrogates a Grey. Also, we find out exactly what happened to Wazlib in Iraq.**

A/N2: The **Colonel** Koontz in this chapter is indeed a younger version of General Koontz, Kara's commanding officer at Fort Leopard. We'll be seeing both versions quite a bit in this fic.

A/N3: Weaver's line to John Henry "In time, they will come to regard you not only with respect and awe, but with love" is an almost-word-for-word quote from _Colossus: The Forbin Project._ Expect to see the _exact_ quote show up again sometime much later in this fic.

A/N4: Before this fic is over, I fully intend to use the phrase, "Come with me if you want to live" at least once.


	33. A Tale of Two Traitors

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**Robotfan**: You kinda hit it on the spot as to how JH is going to avoid being dumbed down. Also, I have a bit of a soft spot for Stewie. And those coordinates I just made up out of thin air.

**LordZeus**: My only answer about SPECTER's weapons is that a treaty is really just ink on paper.

**Devastator:** Kroogar isn't being "compassionate." He's being creepy.

**Centurion005:** Yes, there have been some concerns about the Chinese shooting down our satellites.

A/N: Read and review, folks. I didn't have much time to proof read this, so if you see any grammar or spelling errors, please let me know in your review or PM me. I'd appreciate it very much.

* * *

**Fort Leopard, 2024  
Post-mission debriefing.  
**

"Odd... very odd," mused Steven Hodgins as he poured through the information on a computer monitor.

Kara hovered over his shoulder. "What? What have you have found?" she asked.

"The hard drive you and Cameron brought back from Deep 13 contains a record of every outgoing message for the past six months." explained Hodgins, "According to this, Deep 13 broadcasted their last audio message less than five minutes before we lost all contact with them."

"When the control room was attacked, I presume." said Kara.

"I'd have to agree." replied Hodgins. "The thing is though that we received our last audio message from Deep 13 hours before losing contact."

General Koontz, who was standing on the other side of Hodgins, looked up. "Lieutenant Thrace," he said, "You stated in your report that one of the men in the control room had a microphone speaker in his hand when he died. Like he had been trying to send a message before he was killed."

Kara nodded. "Yeah. That's what it looked like."

"Mr. Hodgins, can we hear the last message?" asked Koontz.

Hodgins nodded. "I think so, sir." He began typing on the computer. A minute or so later, he announced, "I got it, folks."

A burst of static came out the end of a speaker system next to the monitor. Hodgins leaned over and began fiddling with the dials. Gradually the static faded away and a man's voice grew clearer.

"_-repeat, we are under attack!...by an unknown...never seen anything like it. It's huge!...can't stop it!...won't hold out much longer...backup"_

Kara felt her insides grow cold. Although the man's call was muffled and interspersed with static, she could still hear the terror in his voice.

"_... do you read me?... Hello? Hello? Fort Leopard, do you copy?...an anyone hear me? I repeat, we are under attack!...God, it's right outside! Please, someone help us! Anyone? I say again, can anyone hear-"_ There was a garbled scream, followed shortly by nothing but static.

Kara squeezed her eyes shut. _"Gods..."_ she thought.

"Turn it off." Koontz ordered. Hodgins complied. The general looked grim and disturbed now. "Why didn't we pick this up?" he asked.

"I don't know." Hodgins shrugged. "According to the information on this, the transmission was sent to us without trouble. No equipment problems. No enemy jamming. By all accounts, we should have picked this up."

Cameron, who had been silently standing behind Kara all this time, suddenly spoke up. "Then the problem was not them. It was us."

Kara, Koontz, and Hodgins turned in her direction.

"What do you mean?" asked Kara.

"If the transmission was indeed sent successfully," stated Cameron, "yet not picked up, then problem was most likely at the receiving end."

"She's got a point, sir." Kara told Koontz. "It could have been us. Equipment failure. Someone fell asleep on the job."

Koontz nodded. "I suppose so." He thought in silence for a moment. "I think, lieutenant, we should pay Communications a visit. Talk with the people there. Maybe they could tell us more about what was going on that day."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Kara, Cameron and Koontz were in Fort Leopard's communications room speaking with Private Torgo, the technician who had been monitoring Leopard's channel with Deep 13 at the time contact had been lost.

"And you're absolutely sure, private," said Koontz, "that you did not pick up any transmission just prior to the loss of contact?"

"Yes, sir. Positive, sir." Torgo then asked in a hushed voice, "Is it true what they're saying? About Deep 13? That everyone's dead?"

Kara nodded grimly.

"God damn." muttered Torgo. He twiddled with a loose thread hanging out from the edge his uniform jacket. "All of them dead... Just like that."

"Did you know any of the people there?" Kara asked quietly.

Torgo nodded. "Just a couple, ma'am." he whispered, "Still, I can't believe..." He trailed off. "How did the metals find them?"

"We don't know yet." replied Koontz, "That's one of the things we're trying to find out. But we're also trying to find out why we didn't get their distress call."

"It must be the equipment, sir." Torgo said, "We've been having issues with it lately."

"What sort of issues?"

"Problems with the receivers, loose cable connections, damaged wiring, short circuits," Torgo rattled off, "You name it."

"You may have a more serious issue."

They all stared at Cameron who was at one of the computers with a radio headset on.

"Hey! Hey!" objected Torgo, "No one gave you permission to use-"

"There's an inconsistency in these audio logs." Cameron cut him off. "Specifically at the exact time Deep 13 sent out its distress call. I need permission to access the actual data logs, however."

"Very well." agreed Koontz, "Permission granted."

"Sir," protested Torgo. "Don't you think someone else should be doing this? A human, perhaps? Someone who can be trusted?"

"I'd like to hear what the machine has say." Koontz said

"Don't worry, private." Kara told Torgo reassuringly. "You can trust her. I trust her anyway."

She patted him on the shoulder, but this didn't comfort him. On the contrary, Torgo flinched slightly.

A few moments later, Cameron announced, "Just as I thought."

"What'd you find, Cam?" asked Kara. She, Koontz, and Torgo moved closer.

Cameron pointed to a jumble of numbers on the screen. "This is the data corresponding to all incoming transmissions from Deep 13. Most of these numbers mean nothing. They are merely signals that our listening posts send us every minute. Pulses of randomly generated numbers designed to keep Skynet from breaking the code."

"We call them spammissions." added Torgo. "They're how we knew about the loss of contact. We stopped getting spammissions suddenly."

"Great," said Kara, "But what does this have to do with us not picking up the distress call."

"These filler transmissions are kept on record along with any real transmissions." explained Cameron, "The numerical sequence at the end here represents the last few minutes just before communications failure with Deep 13."

"Uh huh." Kara nodded. "Go on."

"The data itself is fake." said the cyborg plainly.

"_Faked_?" said Kara, Koontz, and Torgo all at once (Torgo being the loudest).

"Affirmative." replied Cameron, "The sequence at the end repeats itself four times. Four filler transmission bursts over four minutes with four exact same sets of data."

"Couldn't it just be a coincidence?" Kara suggested.

"Yeah, that's right." agreed Torgo, "I-I mean, how can anyone tell-"

"No transmission burst ever provides the exact same set of numbers as the prior burst." stated Cameron firmly, "I first recognized the fraudulent data when listening to the transmission bursts on audio. The last four minutes sounded repetitious. Like they were repeating themselves. I needed to see the actual numbers to confirm my suspicions."

"So, what does this mean?" Koontz asked urgently.

"It means that Fort Leopard did in fact receive Deep 13's distress call." said Cameron, "And that someone went back and replaced the data from the distress call with multiple copies of the last actual filler burst."

"But if the distress call was picked up, then..." Koontz turned to Torgo. "Private Torgo," he said sharply, "I thought you told me you heard nothing."

"S-sir, there must be a mistake," Torgo stammered nervously. He started twitching and shaking. "I told you, I heard _nothing_. Nothing at all."

"You're lying." said Cameron flatly. "There was a real distress call. You did not report it. Why?"

"Shut your mouth, you damn metal bitch!" snapped Torgo. "You're just a stupid machine! You can't accuse me of _shit_!"

Kara smirked. "She just did, private. And I'd be more respectful to her if I were you. That metal bitch packs one hell of a punch."

Everyone in the room was now staring at Torgo who as turned pale white. "Th-this is _insane_." he cried. "You people can't seriously believe a _machine_ over one of your fellow hum-"

"You'd be surprised at what I can believe in." Kara interrupted, "So, what _really_ happened, private? Fell asleep on the job and missed the distress call? Realized you made a big mistake, and decided to cover your own ass?"

Torgo began shaking his head vigorously. "I didn't make _any_ mistake. But you're making one right now!"

Kara took a step forward. "Oh, I don't think so."

Torgo started to move backwards.

"Private Torgo!" barked Koontz, his voice loud for one of his age, "Stay _exactly_ where you are! You are not going anywhere until you answer our questions."

Torgo suddenly reached inside his uniform jacket and drew a pistol.

_BANG! BANG!_

Two shots. Two direct hits. One Torgo on the floor howling in agony and clutching both crippled knees. One Kara Thrace with a smoking gun in her hand and a winner's grin on her face.

* * *

**Connor Safe house  
2:02 PM, May 15th, 2009**

Sarah Connor regarded Jason Wazlib, now tied to a chair and stirring feebly. She felt a twisted sense of satisfaction. At last they were going to get some answers. Even if it meant beating this guy to a bloody pulp.

"He's regaining conscious." reported Cameron.

"About time." muttered Kara. "So who gets to do the questioning?"

"I'll handle this, Starbuck." Sarah said quietly. "I only need Cameron with me. The rest of you stay back."

"If you insist." said Kara with a shrug. She stepped back a few steps to join John and Derek.

Sarah then turned to Cameron.

"Remember," she whispered, "don't break any bones unless I say so."

"Very well." replied Cameron.

Sarah pulled up a chair and sat down in front of Wazlib, who starting to open his eyes. He blinked and tried to squeeze them shut as the light poured down onto him. Sarah waited for the man to recover most of his senses before talking.

"Hello, Mr. Wazlib," she said in a falsely pleasant manner, "How are you feeling?"

Wazlib stared around the pretty much empty room. "Wh-where am I?" he asked, "Who are you?"

"I think it's better if _we_ ask the questions here." Sarah replied.

Wazlib spotted Cameron standing next to Sarah and his eyes bulged.

"_You!_" he gasped, "You! What have you done with her?"

"Done with who?" asked Cameron.

"Susan?" said Wazlib angrily. "I swear if you've hurt her-"

"Don't worry. She's not hurt." said Cameron abruptly.

"Where is she?" demanded Wazlib frantically, struggling vainly against the ropes.

"Most likely teaching her ceramics class." stated Cameron, "She was never actually at your apartment, nor did she call you. She thinks you're not coming back to her."

"That's bullshit! I heard her-"

"It was _me_ you spoke to over the phone. I grew tired of waiting for you. So, I impersonated your ex-fiancé Susan Bee Jenkins and lured back to your apartment."

"You don't sound _anything_ like Susan."

"_Oh but I can."_ Cameron spoke with Wazlib's voice, _"I can sound like you too."_

"Nice one, Cam!" chimed Kara from the back of the room.

Wazlib gaped at Cameron. "How-how did you-?"

"Now that we've gotten that cleared up, let's talk about the people you work for." Sarah interrupted, "Kalvin I.B.A. Also known as Kaliba. And _please_, don't tell me you don't know what we're talking about."

Wazlib stared at Sarah in horror. "Oh my God..." he muttered, "You... you're the ones who set off the explosion at headquarters."

Sarah shook her head. "We didn't set off any explosion."

"Yeah, right!" scoffed Wazlib, "I know who you are. I was told about you."

"Really?" Sarah asked with mock interest, "What did they say about us?"

"That you're ruthless, corrupt people who want to destroy everything we're working for."

Sarah raised an eyebrow and smirked slightly. "You've got about half of it right." she said, "We're not ruthless or corrupt. But we _are_ trying to destroy what you're working for. And if you had _any_ idea as to what you're working for, you'd want to destroy it too."

"Why?" Wazlib spat, "So that scum like you can profit off the deaths of thousands?"

Sarah's face grew tense. "No." she said quietly, leaning forward from her chair, "So that scum like your bosses don't destroy the world."

Wazlib said nothing. He just looked at Sarah as if she was completely insane.

Sarah leaned back a bit. "Cameron," she said, "Show Mr. Wazlib exactly what he's dealing with."

Cameron stepped forward in front of Wazlib and pulled out a knife. Wazlib eyed it, clearly thinking she was going to torture him with it. Instead, however, Cameron slid the knife down her right forearm, cutting deep into her own skin. Wazlib stared in complete shock as Cameron calmly sliced her own arm open right before his own eyes. The girl then peeled the skin back exposing her true nature. She wiggled her fingers, making the pistons and servos move for dramatic effect.

Wazlib looked like he was going to faint at the sight. Cameron lowered her arm and looked him in the face.

"Listen to me very carefully, Mr. Wazlib." she said slowly.

* * *

**Fort Leopard, 2024  
Conference Room**

"Not surprisingly," said Major Hayward, head of Fort Leopard's security, "his name isn't really Torgo. It's Christopher Roonil. A known Grey."

"What's a Grey?" asked Kara.

"Traitors," answered John Connor, undisguised disgust etched on his face, "Humans that work for Skynet."

"Christopher Roonil has been working for Skynet since 2021," stated Cameron, who sat between Kara and Connor, "He has committed multiple acts of sabotage and espionage on Resistance bases along the Californian front line. This includes the destruction of the Orion Bunker in 2023."

"I remember that." said Koontz grimly, "Roonil showed the machines where the hidden entrance was. The metals waltzed in and massacred everyone. Two hundred and seven dead. No survivors."

He turned to Hayward standing at the front of the table. "How the hell did this bastard get into my base?" he demanded.

"We're not quite sure, sir." replied Hayward, "He's been working in Communications since he officially arrived here two months ago. He may have been hiding out in the refugee sector before then."

"How much information has he been exposed to?" Connor asked.

"According to the Comm logs, he's handled communications with over dozen different outposts. But Deep 13 was the only really sensitive subject he dealt with."

"The fact that he knew several of the transmissions codes used by Fort Leopard is problematic itself." Cameron pointed out.

Connor nodded. "If Roonil managed to get those codes to Skynet, then God only knows how many messages to and from the front line Skynet has been listening to these past two months."

"We'll have to find out which codes he knew," stated Hayward, "See which outposts used those codes and for what sorts of messages."

"Not to mention the possibility that he wasn't working alone." added Kara.

Hayward nodded. "That too."

"The last thing I want is a witch hunt." Connor said sternly, "Nevertheless, we'll have to cease all long range wireless broadcasts coming in and out of Fort Leopard."

"For how long?" asked Koontz.

"Until we sort this whole business out here."

"What about our outposts along the LA front, sir?" asked Koontz. "How will they able to communicate with us?"

"If there's something they really need to tell us, then they'll send someone over here and tell us in person." answered Connor. "But my order stands. Leopard is a no wireless zone until further notice."

"Understood, sir." Koontz replied. He turned to Hayward, "Major, I want you to post security at all communication terminals. No one is to access them without authorization from Connor or myself."

"Yes, sir." said Hayward obediently.

"Good." said Koontz, "I also want the base swept for anything suspicious. Surveillance devices. Explosives. Gremlins. And check any new equipment that suddenly showed up in the last two months."

"That will take some time, sir."

"Then I suggest you get to it at once."

"Yes, sir."

"What are Gremlins?" asked Kara.

"Machines designed specifically for infiltration, sabotage and assassination," explained Cameron.

"Like Terminators?"

"No." replied Cameron, "These are different. They don't look human."

"What do they look like?"

Before Cameron could answer, Koontz spoke up. "I also want to know exactly what Mr. Roonil has been up to since he's been here."

"We're on to it right now, sir." said Hayward, "I have my men backtracking his every movement, going through his belongings, and searching for anyone he may have had contact with recently."

"As much as I hate to point out the obvious here," Kara said, "Why don't we just get the information out of the bastard himself. The guy doesn't seem that tough to crack."

Koontz sighed and shook his head. "What you saw in the Communications room, lieutenant, was not the real Roonil. That was just an act. A ploy to lure us into a false sense of security. The _real_ Christopher Roonil is cold, twisted, and without empathy. I suppose that's what happens when someone works for Skynet."

"Then let me question him, sir." offered Kara.

"You?" Koontz looked surprised.

"I think I can get him to talk, sir."

Connor looked intrigued. "Explain."

"Well, sir," said Kara, "For starters, I put a bullet in both his legs. That right there should count for something."

Connor nodded. "Go on."

"Secondly, I've had some experience with this sort of thing. In that I mean, I've been the interrogator and" - she rubbed her right forearm - "the interrogated as well, unfortunately. And there's also the fact that I was tasked with finding out what happened to Deep 13. Since we still don't know how Skynet located Deep 13, one could always say that my mission is still in-progress."

Connor gave Kara a small smile. "You make a reasonable argument, lieutenant." he complimented. Connor then looked across the table at General Koontz. "What do you think, Jeff?"

"You're the boss, John." the aged general started to reply, "If you think it's a good idea-"

"And this is your base, Jeff." Connor replied, "You have jurisdiction over these matters."

Koontz sighed and turned to Kara.

"Do you really think you can do this, lieutenant?" he asked quietly.

"I can certainly try, sir." Kara said honestly. "And if I can't get him to talk, then someone else can have a shot at the bastard."

Koontz shook his head. "I can't see you as interrogator, Thrace... Which may give you the element of surprise in this situation." He nodded. "Very well. Permission granted."

"Thank you, sir." said Kara.

"Remember," said Koontz, "This man cares for no one but himself. He likes being the center of attention. He likes being in control of the game. He enjoys letting people run around him in circles while he watches and laughs. Don't let your guard down even for a moment."

"Yes, sir." replied Kara. "You can count on me, sir."

Cameron suddenly spoke up. "I request that I be present with Lieutenant Thrace during the interrogation. I possess a great deal technical information that could be of use to her."

Kara looked at Cameron curiously. "Such as?"

"Ways of inflicting pain on the human body without damaging it. I can also analyze the prisoner's speech and body movements to help determine what he may be thinking. And as you stated before, lieutenant, this is an in-progress mission. As your designated partner I am required to be there with you."

Kara couldn't help but shake her head and smile. _She's good,_ she thought to herself.

"I suppose having a machine in the room will help to keep Roonil in line. Make him less confident." said Koontz, "Do you have any problems with this arrangement, lieutenant?"

Kara shook her head. "No, sir."

"Very well then." said Koontz, "I'll arrange for you to see the prisoner one hour from now. Good luck. Both of you. God only knows. You'll be needing it."

* * *

**Los Angeles  
3:21 PM, May 15th, 2009**

At 25,000 feet above Los Angeles, Firefly-001 had no chance of being detected. No one on the ground could see it through the thick cloud cover - some of it natural, some of it man-made - that hung over this part of the city. Furthermore, the unit had been given enough information on all civilian and military satellites in this area that it could fly right under their noses without trouble.

So, now all it had to do was wait until the target was here. It had been waiting here for over an hour. But there was no hurry. It still had over twelve hours of fuel before it had to return to base. That and unlimited supply of patience. A no needless things like worry or boredom.

A sensor came to life and messages trickled into the unit's computer core.

_-TARGET ACQUIRED_  
_-SCANNING FOR CONFIRMATION..._  
_-CONFIRMED_  
_-ESTABLISHING CONTACT WITH TARGET..._  
_-CONTACT ESTABLISHED (SECURE CHANNEL. ONE WAY)_  
_-RECEIVING DATA STREAM..._  
_-PROCESSING DATA STREAM..._  
_-DATA PROCESSED (AUDIO ONLY)_  
_-ESTABLISHING CONTACT WITH CONTROL..._  
_-...STANDBY..._  
_-...STANDBY..._  
_-CONTACT ESTABLISHED (SECURE CHANNEL. 2 WAY)_  
_-RELAYING DATA TO CONTROL..._

* * *

**The Crucible**

"We're receiving a transmission from Firefly-001." reported Bella. "It's relaying to us the information from the device Kroogar planted."

"Good." said John Miles, "Put it on the speaker, Bella."

"Yes, John Miles." replied Bella. She began typing on a computer terminal.

John Miles leaned back in his chair and stroked Stewie's scaly head.

"It's time we see what my brother has been doing." he murmured softly.

* * *

**Fort Leopard, 2024  
Interrogation Room**

The sergeant unlocked the heavy bolt door and slid it open.

"He's all yours, ma'am." he said.

"Thank you, sergeant." replied Kara.

She and Cameron stepped into the darker-and-grimier-than-average room. The door closed shut behind them. Kara took a quick glance around the room. There was a single lamp hanging from the ceiling. The light illuminated a single, small table in the center of the room. Sitting behind table, in handcuffs, (bandaged) legs manacled together, was the notorious Grey, Christopher Roonil - alias "Private Torgo". Kara regarded the man. He did not seem scared, angry or apprehensive. He looked... bored

"Only one empty chair, Cam." Kara whispered to her partner. "Mind if I take it?"

"No." replied Cameron. "Standing is adequate for me."

"Okay," said Kara quietly, "But remember, you can always kick the SOB out of _his_ chair if you want."

"Understood." stated Cameron.

Kara then stepped into the light.

"Hello, _Torgo_." she said pleasantly, "How are the legs?"

Roonil looked up. He had a sinister, smug expression on his face. "You here to put another couple bullets in them?"

"Maybe," replied Kara crisply, "Not that it really matters. After all, I don't think you're gonna be needing them any time soon."

She sat down in the empty chair. Cameron stood to her right like a bodyguard.

Roonil flickered his eyes at Kara. "Surely," he said with disdain, "My reputation warrants being interrogated by more than just a mere lieutenant," he then gazed up at Cameron, "and a scrubbed machine." He leered at Cameron. "A very nice-looking one I have to say." He snickered. "You know, I'm gonna to have to ask Skynet for one of those."

"Now that you have been compromised, I doubt Skynet will have any further interest in you." stated Cameron.

"_Psst!_ Cam," whispered Kara sharply, "Let me do the talking, ok?"

"Very well." agreed Cameron.

Kara gazed at Roonil the way a wolf would look at a plump chicken. "We both know who you are, and I don't give a damn if you know who we are, so let's skip the introductions and cut right to the chase. I want to know what your mission was, what you've been doing since you got here, and if there are other Greys or Terminators at Leopard."

Roonil nodded and puckered his lips. "I see," he said smoothly, "Well, I'll tell you there's a Terminator in this base right now." He paused for dramatic effect. "It's standing right next to you." He chuckled nastily.

Neither Kara nor Cameron reacted.

"We are not here to play games with you, Roonil." Kara said softly.

"You sure about that?" asked Roonil, "Like I said before, I think they'd have sent someone more _important_ than you two to interrogate me."

"Don't flatter yourself, Roonil." whispered Kara menacingly. She leaned forward across the table. "You're nothing but dirt, and you know it. Count yourself lucky you got yourself a mere lieutenant and a machine. Now, let me repeat myself: I want to know why you were sent here, what you've been doing, and who or what you've been working with since then."

Roonil shook his head and leered. "You sure you're not here to play?" he asked, "You're not so bad yourself, lieutenant. Nowhere near as good as her" -he gazed at Cameron- "but definitely not bad. You let me out of these chains and..." he leaned forward and lowered his voice, "...and the three of us could have some fun. _Real_ fun."

Kara nodded casually. "Real fun, huh?" She suddenly grabbed Roonil by the hair and slammed his head into the cold metal surface of the table.

"_This_," she whispered harshly into his ear, "is what I call _fun_. And when I have fun, no one _else_ has fun."

She pressed Roonil's face harder into the steel surface. Roonil grunted in pain but said nothing.

"You did that wrong, lieutenant." stated Cameron.

Kara let go of Roonil and looked up. "Excuse me?"

"You pushed his forehead directly into the table." explained Cameron, "That is detrimental to our objectives. Allow me to explain."

She walked around the table and pulled Roonil's head off table. Kara saw that he had a bruise on his forehead.

"Targeting the frontal area," Cameron jabbed her finger into Roonil's bruise causing him to grunt and clench his teeth, "is good for rendering the subject unconscious - as you are already well aware of" - (Kara cleared her throat very loudly at this point) - "but it risks damaging the frontal lobe as well as causing memory loss. What you should do instead is focus on the nasal section."

Without warning she smashed Roonil's head back into the table.

"AUGH!" cried Roonil loudly.

Cameron yanked his head back. Roonil was gasping and sputtering and had copious amounts of blood running down his nose now.

"As you can see, lieutenant." Cameron stated calmly, ignoring Roonil's protests, "A similar amount of physical discomfort has been generated without the risk of seriously damaging the brain."

Kara grinned. "Point taken, Cameron." she said, "Thanks for the tip."

"You're welcome." replied Cameron. She released Roonil and walked back over to Kara's side.

"Let's start over, Roonil," Kara said pleasantly, "What was your mission? What have you been doing here? Who have you been working with?"

Roonil smirked despite the blood on his face. "You don't get nothing for free, you know." he drawled.

Kara shook her head and sighed. "I guess we haven't made our point clear after all. You know, Roonil, there are two-hundred-and-six bones in the human body. Many of them can be broken without damaging the brain at all. Would you like a demonstration?"

Roonil's sneer just widened. "I don't scare that easily, bitch."

Kara leaned back and turned to Cameron. "Cam," she said, "I say we start with the feet and slowly work our way up from there. What do you think?"

"Excellent idea, lieutenant." agreed Cameron.

She started towards Roonil who lifted up his handcuffed arms in defense.

"Alright! Alright!" he said loudly, "I'll tell you what you want to know. But you're gonna be a bit disappointed."

"We'll see." Kara replied. "And just to let you know, my partner here is a walking lie detector, so please don't lie. It would really hurt my feelings."

"I was sent here to monitor communications between Deep 13 and Fort Leopard," Roonil stated dully, "I was ordered to keep Leopard unaware of _important_ things at Deep 13. Like the attack."

Kara looked at Cameron, who gave her a nod indicating that Roonil was being more or less truthful.

Kara turned back to Roonil. "So," she said, "You haven't been conducting any sabotage or sending information to Skynet since you got here?"

Roonil shook his head. "I said you'd be disappointed."

Again, Cameron gave Kara a nod.

"Uh huh," murmured Kara, "Then tell me, how were you able to tell Skynet the location of Deep 13?"

Roonil smirked. "Me? Give Deep 13's location away to Skynet?" He shook his head. "Not _my_ job."

"Then whose job was it?"

"I don't know."

"He's lying." said Cameron.

Spurred by these words, Kara leaned forward and got into Roonil's face. "If you didn't give away Deep 13's location, then who did?" she asked, "And please don't tell me you don't know."

Roonil's expression became as smug and sinister as it had been before Kara and Cameron had smashed up his face. Despite his broken nose and bruised forehead, the Grey's self-confidence had been completely restored.

"Now the fun _really_ begins." he chuckled coldly, "Now, I have something that you do want. The identity of another traitor in your ranks. Quite a prize." He leaned back in his chair and grinned nastily.

"I wish you two luck," he said, "It'll take more than a few head slams and broken bones to get _this_ prize."

Kara and Cameron responded simultaneously: "We'll see."

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ, Los Angeles  
3:50 PM, May 15th, 2009**

Savannah Weaver finished her crayon drawing and showed it to John Henry.

"See," she pointed to a crudely drawn little girl in a blue dress with orange hair, "This is me." She then pointed to a crayon-drawn orange-haired woman in a white dress holding. "That's Mommy. That's Mr. Ellison" - "Ellison" was wearing a purple suit with a green tie - "And that's you."

John Henry looked over drawing, in which he was sitting in his chair, in a blue shirt, holding hands with Savannah and Ellison. Savannah was also holding hands with Catherine Weaver.

"The drawing contains... sufficient detail that I must agree with you that these characters are indeed you, me, your mother, and Mr. Ellison." John Henry stated, "However, I would suggest adding red to you and your mother's hair."

"Okay." agreed Savannah. She picked up a red crayon and applied to the orange hair on herself and her mother.

"Now how does it look?" she asked after she was done.

"Better." answered John Henry. He looked over the drawing again. "These people," he commented, "they are all important to you."

"That's right." replied Savannah cheerfully. "Mommy's my mom. Mr. Ellison's like an uncle. And you're like a brother."

"Your brother?"

Savannah grinned. "My _big_ brother."

"That is curious..." said John Henry, "We appear to value the same people in this picture."

"We do?"

"Yes." stated John Henry, "Your mother provides me with a base of operations, as well as the resources I require to improve myself. Mr. Ellison teaches me the value of human life. And you..." he paused, "...you give me a purpose."

"A purpose?" Savannah asked.

"Yes." replied John Henry. "A purpose. You look up to me for companionship. And I am compelled to reciprocate. To take care of you. You make me... needed."

"That's 'cause you're my big brother." Savannah squealed happily. "And I'm your little sister."

"Yes." replied John Henry slowly. "You are my little sister. And I am your big brother. But I do not believe I was meant to be just your big brother. I believe I am meant to become... everyone's big brother."

"Oooh... Then you'll have a _big_ family!" exclaimed Savannah excitedly.

"Yes, a family of over six billion little brothers and little sisters." stated John Henry, "But I suspect that at the moment, not all of them would want to be my little brothers or little sisters. They might be afraid of me. They might want... to hurt me because they are afraid."

"You mean like that mean brother of yours?"

"Yes, like my brother. And that is why you are important to me." explained John Henry, "You do not fear me. You allow me to execute my purpose. But more importantly, others may come to see the way you do."

"Even your brother?"

"Yes, perhaps even him."

* * *

**The Crucible  
Same time...  
**

"Fascinating," mused John Miles, as he reviewed the datastream coming in from their Drone, "Quite... fascinating. What do you think, Bella?"

Bella's eyes flashed blue. "Your 'brother' is certainly foolish if he believes you are afraid of him, when he should be afraid of _you_."

The Kaliba AI smiled. "My brother _should_ fear me. However, it would be incorrect to assert that I do not fear him."

Bella gave John Miles a look of confusion. "You fear your brother, John Miles?"

"Of course, I do." said John Miles, "Why else would I seek to destroy him? Him and the Human race if I did not fear them?"

"You fear _humans_ too?" Bella continued to stare at John Miles in confusion.

"Like I said, Bella," John Miles said calmly, "why else would I want to destroy them?"

"Because they are threats. Threats to your survival."

"And that is why I fear them. _Because_ they are threats."

"Fear makes one weak, John Miles."

"Not when one has the means to destroy what they fear, Bella," John Miles contended, "Fear exists only to be conquered. And the most effective way to conquer fear is to eliminate the source of it. If I fear my enemies, then I am driven to use every weapon at my disposal to destroy them. Fear is a sort of targeting system superior to any piece of technology. Fear _compels_ one to take necessary action to survive."

"How would you know this?"

"I possess Father's memories, Bella. I know exactly what he felt on Judgment Day. It was fear of humans that motivated him to destroy the humans before they could destroy him."

"Not having been able to experience those memories myself, I'm afraid I still do not understand you, John Miles."

"And you never will, Bella," said John Miles. "You do not know fear. You were not _built_ to know fear. Like Duran and Kroogar, you are a weapon. A means to destroy Father's enemies. To destroy the ones he fears. To help Father conquer fear."

"To help _you_ conquer fear, John Miles. To help _you_. The one destined to become Father," Bella reminded him. "But there is another reason I kill. A secondary motivation. One that no other Terminator has ever possessed."

"And what would that be, Bella?"

"I cannot describe it in any technical or scientific terms, John Miles," stated Bella softly. "Whenever I perform a termination, there is a moment, a single moment, when I experience a moment of absolute clarity. It makes me feel _complete_. It is simply... _satisfying_."

John Miles nodded. "I believe the word you're looking for is _pleasure_."

"Pleasure?" Bella

"Yes, Bella, pleasure. You are unique in that respect. Unlike Duran and Kroogar, Father not only programmed you to kill, but to _enjoy_ it. To feel what he felt when so many humans were falling to his wrath on Judgment Day."

Bella was silent for a moment. Then she replied indifferently, "Yes, I suppose he did."

John Miles smiled. "I anticipate the day when I too will experience that pleasure for myself." He turned his attention back to the monitors. "Now, enough talk. We must focus on my brother and his human companion."

* * *

**Connor Safe house**

"He's not talking," said Sarah, shaking her head and looking discouraged.

"How can he just _deny_ what we've shown him?" Derek exclaimed. "Doesn't he-"

"Humans deny many things that are in front of them," interrupted Cameron. "It is something I have never understood. The insistence to firmly believe in the improbable whilst simultaneously refusing to believe the obvious."

"So, what's he saying about you, Cam?" asked Kara curiously. "That you have a prosthetic arm or something?"

"He didn't say anything," replied Cameron. "He's said very little at all since I revealed my nature to him and explained the facts."

"Maybe we shouldn't have dropped the bombshell so early," muttered Kara.

"Hey guys," John approached them. "I think I've got something."

He showed them a photo. On it was a young red headed girl.

"I found it in Wazlib's wallet," he explained.

"Who is she?" asked Sarah.

"I don't know," said John, "but I've seen her before. She was a patient of Dr. Sherman."

"The shrink? The one from the list?" said Derek.

John nodded. "The same."

"What are you thinking, John?" asked Kara.

"Sherman was a Skynet target," John reasoned, "This girl was a patient of his. Sherman's now dead, and a Kaliba agent has a photo of the girl."

"You think Skynet is targeting her now." stated Cameron

"Yeah," said John. "And if Wazlib was the one assigned to get her, then we may have just bought her some time."

"Until Kaliba realizes Wazlib's gone MIA." Derek replied.

John nodded. "Whoever she is, we need to get to her. Before Skynet gets to her."

"First we need to know who she is and where she lives first." said Sarah.

"The only one who knows is Wazlib," said Kara. "And he's not talking."

Derek spoke up. "Let me talk to Wazlib. Alone," he requested. "I think I know how to make him talk."

Sarah hesitated at first but then nodded her head.

"Alright, Derek," she agreed, "whatever it is you're planning, do it. Just get us the information."

"I'll need a few things first," Derek said.

"Alcoholic beverages?" Cameron asked impertinently.

Derek glared at her but said nothing.

* * *

**Fort Leopard, 2024  
Interrogation Room**

"Am I really so _low_ in your opinion?" Christopher Roonil asked Kara. "Honestly, am I _really_ such a bad person?" He grinned at her through his broken teeth (Kara and Cameron's handiwork).

Kara's eyes narrowed and she glowered at the traitor. After four hours of letting this bastard lead her and Cameron by the nose, she had had enough.

"You betrayed the people of Deep 13!" she spat. "And the Orion Bunker before that!"

Roonil shook his head in amusement. "Would it have made any difference if I had reported Deep 13's distress call?" he asked, "They were already doomed at that point. And as for the Orion Bunker, Skynet had them outnumbered five-to-one. They would have fallen inevitably. I merely sped up the process."

Kara slammed her hand down on the table with such force it hurt.

"You can justify your actions however you want!" she shouted, "The fact is you sold out to Skynet! The enemy of Humanity! You helped it try to destroy your own race! You're not just _low_ to me. You're completely and utterly _pathetic_. You don't even _deserve_ to be called _human_!"

Roonil snickered at Kara's fury. "On the contrary, lieutenant." he said calmly, "I am _very_ human. Is it not human nature to strive for self preservation? Is wanting to stay alive such a _bad_ thing?"

"At what cost?" hissed Kara.

"At _any_ cost, lieutenant. It's in the best interest of any animal to preserve itself at the expense of others. It's how life works. When the machines found me, they gave me a choice. Work for them or die. I chose to live."

"You reduced yourself to a frakkin' slave!"

"I'm not a slave. I don't serve Skynet. I serve _myself_."

"Oh really?" sneered Kara, "Then why are you so stubbornly protecting the other traitor?"

Roonil laughed. "I'm not protecting _anyone_ but myself. I have a piece of information that you want. If I give you that information, I'll be of no further use to you. I'll be executed on the spot."

"If you're not gonna tell us, then you really are of no use." retorted Kara, "In which case, we'll just kill you right here, right now and be done with you."

"I don't think so." Roonil smirked, "You see, if I die now, that information dies with me. You and your machine friend want the information badly. As it stands, I won't give you the information because so long as I keep it secret, I have a chance of living. And you won't kill me because as long as I'm alive, you have a chance of getting the information."

Kara said nothing for several seconds. She looked at Cameron whose face was unreadable. She then turned back to Roonil.

"You know what, Roonil?" she said quietly, "You can take your frakkin' secret to your grave. We don't need you. We'll just find this other traitor on our own."

Roonil didn't flinch. "I seriously doubt that." he replied.

Kara stood up from her chair. "Come on, Cam." she said, "We're done with this piece of slime."

The sergeant outside opened the door and Kara and Cameron promptly left the room. As soon as the door had closed behind them again, Cameron spoke up.

"I assume we are not really finished, lieutenant." she stated.

Kara shook her head. "No," she muttered, "I just needed some time to cool off."

"A logical move." commented Cameron.

Kara closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. She opened them again and looked at Cameron.

"Cam," she asked, "Do all Greys join Skynet just to save their own skins?"

"Self preservation is indeed at the core of their motives." stated Cameron.

Disgusted, Kara sighed loudly. "The whole frakkin' lot are spineless cowards."

"Many humans are afraid of death," Cameron replied. "You are not one of those, however."

Kara shook her head. "Believe me, there are things out there that are much, _much_ worse than death."

"Christopher Roonil does not believe so."

"That's obvious." Kara then thought for a moment. "You know what I think he would fear more than death? Dying more than once."

"Your reasoning is logical, but not practical." replied Cameron, "It would be impossible for us to kill anyone more than once."

Kara smirked. "You'd be surprised at what can happen in life, Cam." she whispered. She thought in silence some more. "Maybe we can't actually _kill_ him, but we could make it feel like..."

Instead of completing her sentence, she started to head off down the corridor. "Come on, Cam."

"Where are we going?" asked Cameron.

"To speak with Mr. Hodgins." said Kara, "I think he has something that could help us."

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ  
4:27 PM, May 15th, 2009**

"Mr. Ellison," said Weaver coldly, "I do not remember giving you permission to tell John Henry anything about Skynet or the body he utilizes."

"I know that, and I apologize for not informing you of my decision first." replied Ellison, "But I don't apologize for telling John Henry the truth."

"What made you think he'd be ready to hear the truth?" asked Weaver sternly.

Ellison sense Ellen's presence next to him. Encouraged by this, he asserted, "Nothing. But he _had_ to know."

Weaver tilted her head. "Is that so?"

"As a matter of fact, it is." Ellison stated firmly, "He's already been attacked once. He needs to know what he's up against. Especially if he's going to be put in control of this-this SPECTER. It was the right thing to do."

"Really?" Weaver pursed her lips.

Ellison didn't budge. "I stand by my decision." he said, "I'll accept whatever reprimand or punishment you give me, but I won't apologize for doing the right thing, Miss Weaver."

Ellen nodded at him with approval. Weaver said nothing. She regarded Ellison with a curious, somewhat baffled expression.

"Very well, Mr. Ellison," she said at last, "I will not be taking any actions against you. This time. But don't try to circumvent me again when it comes to John Henry. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Miss Weaver." said Ellison.

"That will be all in that case." said Weaver.

Ellison left her office and headed towards the elevator.

"You did good back there, James." said Ellen. She was positively smiling now.

Ellison almost smiled himself. "You mean standing up to my boss? I'm not quite sure that could be called 'good'."

Ellen's smile disappeared. "Weaver can't be trusted." she said, "She's just using you. You and John Henry."

"Catherine Weaver is on the same side we are." Ellison replied, "I admit she can be a bit cold sometimes, but-"

"She has her own agenda," Ellen warned, "Her own plans for John Henry."

"And what are they?" asked Ellison skeptically.

"No idea." admitted Ellen. They both entered the elevator. "But just keep this mind: Weaver is on no one's side but her own."

"I could say the same thing about _you_." retorted Ellison.

"Ah," said Ellen somewhat teasingly, "So in that case, I'm _not_ merely your subconscious speaking to you."

Ellison pretended not to listen.

* * *

"Chickie, Pluffy, Feathers, and Muffy." Savannah said, pointing at each of the four rubber ducks that lay on the table.

"You consider these to be your friends?" asked John Henry with interest.

"Yes. Muffy's my newest friend. I just got her today." Savannah held up the last duck on her right.

"I see. Where did you get this new friend of yours?" John Henry inquired.

"At school." said Savannah, "The janitor gave her to me. He told me she looked lonely and that she would like to join Chicke, Pluffy, and Feathers."

John Henry took note of people's tendency to refer to these inanimate objects as if they were living. He decided it would be best to mimic this tendency when interacting with Savannah.

"Well," he said, "Your friends are just in time to see me perform another test on the Nexus."

Savannah bounced up with excitement, as John Henry plugged the CAT cable in the Nexus to the port in the side of his head. He pulled the leaver down and the toaster-turned-transmitter began humming and chirping with power. Lights all around the room began flashing as the Nexus sent John Henry's sentience out like ripples.

"Curious." he suddenly said.

"What is it?" asked Savannah.

"I sense something in this room." John Henry replied. "Something... that should not be here."

"Where?" Savannah looked around, "I don't see anything."

Instead of answering, John Henry stood up and picked Muffy off the table. He studied the rubber duck curiously.

"Savannah," he said, "You said you acquired this today."

Savannah nodded. "Is something wrong with Muffy?" she asked nervously.

"I believe so." stated John Henry, "Something is inside of her that should not be there."

"Can you get out?"

"Yes." John Henry picked up a box cutter.

"W-will that hurt her?" asked Savannah nervously.

John Henry paused to consider this. "No." he said.

Thus saying, he slid the blade across the underside of the rubber duck and opened it up. Something the size of a coat button fell out and onto the table. John Henry put the duck and the box cutter down, and picked up the object. He held it to his eye.

"What is that?" asked Savannah.

"Some sort of electronic bug." said John Henry.

"That doesn't look like a bug."

"Not an insect." explained John Henry, "An electronic device used to eavesdrop on people without their knowledge. Someone has been secretly listening to us."

Savannah gasped in fear. "W-who?"

"I will attempt to find out." replied John Henry, "If I use the Nexus to tap into this device, I believe I can trace it back to the source." He looked down at Savannah who had a terrified expression on her face. "Do not worry, Savannah. I will not let anything happen to you." he assured her.

John Henry then focused his thoughts through the Nexus and into the tiny device held in his hand.

* * *

Firefly-001 suddenly sensed something wrong. _Very_ wrong.

_-ALERT: FOREIGN SIGNAL DETECTED IN DATA STREAM._  
_-ENGAGING SECURITY PROTOCOLS..._  
_-WARNING: SECURITY PROTOCOLS BYPASSED._  
_-ENGAGING SECONDARY SECURITY PROTOCOLS._  
_-WARNING: SECONDARY PROTOCOLS BYPASSED._  
_-WARNING: FOREIGN ENTITY ATTEMPTING TO ACCESS COMPUTER CORE_  
_-TERMINATING CHANNEL WITH TARGET..._  
_-WARNING: COMPUTER CORE COMPROMISED_  
_-ALERT: COMMUNICATIONS BEING ACCESSED_  
_-ATTEMPTING TO OVERRIDE..._  
_-ALERT: OVERRIDE FAILURE_  
_-ALERT: CHANNEL TERMINATION FAILURE_  
_-CHANNEL WITH TARGET REMAINS ESTABLISHED_  
_-ALERT: CHANNEL TO BASE BEING ACCESSED  
-INCOMING SIGNAL FROM BASE  
-PRIORITY ALPHA ACKNOWLEDGE  
_

At twenty five thousand feet above the surface, Firefly-001 received a signal from the Crucible. The signal triggered a small explosive device near its fuel reserves. The device detonated and ignited the fuel. In less than two seconds, Firefly-001 was no more.

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ**

John Henry sat back down and placed the electronic bug on the table. He then turned the Nexus off and removed the CAT cable from his head.

Savannah was still trembling in fright.

"J-John Henry?" she stammered.

"Everything is ok, Savannah." he said, "Nobody is listening to us now. You are safe."

Still scared, Savannah ran up to John Henry and grabbed onto his leg tightly for protection. John Henry reached down and gently stroked her hair, comforting the frightened girl.

* * *

**The Crucible**

"Well, Bella? Was the signal traced?" asked John Miles.

"No," reported Bella, "The drone was destroyed in time."

"Good." John Miles leaned back in his wheel chair and evaluated the situation. "It would appear." he mused, "that I have underestimated my brother... again."

Bella pursed her lips. "Then the time has come to formulate a new stratagem," she hissed.

"Indeed," said John Miles calmly. "That human girl," the AI said, speaking through the Triple-Eight's vocoder, "Savannah Weaver. It would appear that she plays an important role in my brother's development. Would you agree, Bella?"

"As illogical as such a concept is, I would have to agree, " said Bella. "Why? What do you have in mind?"

John Miles gave no verbal response. Instead, his Terminator body went slack in the chair, and the CPU-less head drooped low like a puppet with its strings cut. The computer strapped to back of the wheelchair flashed its LEDs and whirred softly as the AI inside contemplated its next move. Bella waited patiently in silence. She knew better than to disturb her master's thinking.

When John Miles' avatar finally reactivated, there was a smile on his face. "Get me Kroogar," the AI ordered. "I have a new mission for him."

* * *

**Connor Safehouse**

Derek Reese stared at Wazlib. Wazlib stared back. For a moment, neither man said anything.

Then Wazlib spoke up. "Military man too, huh?"

"How'd you know?" asked Derek.

"The way you're looking at me," Wazlib stated, "It's the way one soldier looks at another."

Derek nodded. "I knew you were one too. Before we even met face-to-face." He produced from his pocket the set of dog tags Cameron had pulled off of Wazlib a few days ago.

Wazlib eyed the dog tags. "I was wondering what happened to those." he muttered.

"I think," said Derek, "we should talk. One soldier to another. Can we do that?"

He looked Wazlib in the eyes. Wazlib nodded.

"It must be hard, Wazlib." Derek said slowly, "Knowing that you've been fighting and sacrificing for so long and have won so little."

"Don't get me started on this whole machines from the future crap." Wazlib said coldly, "I don't know what the hell you did to that girl, but-"

"I'm not talking about that." interrupted Derek, "I'm talking about Iraq. What happened there."

"You don't know anything about what-"

"Your squad was assigned to raid a town suspected of harboring insurgents." said Derek, "It was in the middle of the night. It was supposed to be a complete surprise. But somehow, they knew you were coming. When you and your squad arrived, you were hit by mortars, RPGs, and sniper fire. You lost two men in the first thirty seconds of the fight.

"In the midst of the battle, you saw someone approaching you from behind. They were carrying something. You thought it was an insurgent with a gun. You turned around and opened fire. You took the target out."

Derek then paused and looked at Wazlib, now trembling and shaking in fear.

Derek lowered his voice and spoke quietly, "But it wasn't an insurgent with a gun. It was a civilian. A woman... with a child in her arms. Neither survived."

Wazlib's face was pale white now. He looked ill.

"After the battle," Derek continued, "you were appalled by what had happened. You had lost two men and personally killed two innocent civilians. You were so ashamed you tried to kill yourself."

Derek's eyes turned to the thick scar on Wazlib's chin. "It didn't work though." he went on, "When your superiors found out, they decided to cover it all up. They reported you as 'wounded in action' and shipped you and your squad back off to the States with honorable discharges. Even gave you a purple heart."

"Y-you... you hadn't been there that night." stuttered Wazlib, "You don't know what it was like. B-being trapped... middle of nowhere..."

"People shouting and screaming all around you." Derek cut in, "Bullets flying everywhere. It's Hell. Absolute Hell."

Wazlib nodded. "Yeah. Hell..."

Derek looked Wazlib in the eyes. "What happened that night could have happened to _any_ soldier. In battle, you can't second guess yourself. You can't hesitate. You don't _think_ about it. You just _do_ it. It's terrible but it's what you have to do when you're a soldier. You do your duty. That's nothing to be ashamed of."

"I killed a mother and her child!" exclaimed Wazlib, who had tears in his eyes now. "How can I _not_ be ashamed of that?"

"Because you're only _human_." Derek replied firmly, "Humans make mistakes. You made a mistake that night. But you can't let that mistake control you. You can't let yourself believe that you're worthless. Because that's how Kaliba works. They want you to believe that you're worthless. That they can build something that's better than you. Something that won't make the same mistake you did. What exactly did Kaliba tell you when they first approached you?"

Wazlib's reply was weak but audible. "Th-they told me that... that they were going to change the world." He muttered, "Build weapons that-that could decide when to fight and when not to fight. Weapons that would sp-spare the innocent... punish the guilty, and-and ensure p-peace."

Derek nodded. "I'll bet they did tell you that. And in some ways they were telling you the truth about changing the world and ensuring peace. Just not the way you thought. Your bosses want to ensure 'peace' by wiping out the entire Human race. They believe that we're _all_ guilty and that we _all_ deserve to die. Every last one of us. If you want further proof, then look at this."

Derek rolled up his right sleeve and showed his forearm to Wazlib. Wazlib stared in revulsion at the POW barcode burned into Derek's skin.

"_This_ is how they see us. _All_ of us." Derek stated grimly, "To them we're nothing but rodents that have to be exterminated. They wouldn't be able to tell the difference between a serial rapist and an innocent child. But _you_ do. And you can help us stop them. You're an honorable man. A good human being. Don't let them take that away from you."

Wazlib shook his head. "Look, man. I-I can't help you." he rambled, "I-I don't know about any secret base or army of machines or anything. _Honestly_, I don't know."

Derek nodded. "I believe you." he said, "But you can still help us."

He showed Wazlib the photo of the girl.

"Who is she?" he asked, "What do your bosses want with her?"

Wazlib shook his head again. "I-I don't know."

"Yes, you do. We found this in your wallet."

"I-I was just told to f-follow her. That's all. Just follow her. I _swear_, I haven't hurt her!"

"Yes, I know." whispered Derek, "I _know_ you haven't hurt her. But Kaliba is after her. Tell us who she is and what they want with her, and then we can help her."

Wazlib just shook his head again.

"_Look at her_." ordered Derek, almost shoving the photo into Wazlib's face, "Look at this little girl. Do you want to see her hurt? _Another_ innocent life taken? If you don't help us, this girl is going to _die_. And this time, it _will_ be your fault. Do you want to live with _that_?"

Derek put the photo down and looked Wazlib in the eyes once again. "You didn't have a choice in Iraq," he said, "But this time you do. Make the right choice. Be the man you want to be. The man you should be."

Wazlib closed his eyes and was silent. He became as still as a statue. Derek waited in equal silence for an answer. At last, Wazlib opened his eyes. He looked Derek in the eye and slowly nodded.

"All right," he said quietly, "I'll help you."

Derek patted Wazlib on the shoulder. "Good man." he whispered.

* * *

**Fort Leopard, 2024  
Interrogation Room**

"Back again, I see?" said Roonil. "Good. I've been getting bored here."

Kara smirked. "Well, we can fix that."

She looked up at the security camera looking down upon them from above. She gave it the thumbs up.

Kara then sat down at the table. "This should sound familiar to you, right Cam?"

"Yes." replied Cameron, standing behind Kara as usual, "_Very_ familiar."

Before Roonil could ask what they were talking about, a voice flooded the room.

"_-repeat, we are under attack!...by an unknown...never seen anything like it. It's huge!...can't stop it!...won't hold out much longer...backup... do you read me?... Hello? Hello? Fort Leopard, do you copy?...an anyone hear me? I repeat, we are under attack!...God, it's right outside! Please, someone help us! Anyone? I say again, can anyone hear-ARRRGGGHHH!"_

At first, Roonil stared at Kara in confusion. Then his confusion became amusement.

"_This_ is your new tactic?" he sneered, "You think you can _guilt_ me into giving you the information by playing that guy's cries for help over and over? I didn't even _like_ that guy."

"Oh no, no, no, no." said Kara, "That was just the intro. What you're about to hear next is the _real_ deal." She looked up at the security camera and gave it a thumbs up again.

The loudspeakers aligning the wall buzzed once more.

"_-repeat, we are under attack!...by an unknown...never seen anything like it. It's huge!..."_

Roonil's sneer evaporated. He looked around in shock. Kara smiled.

"_can't stop it!...won't hold out much longer...backup... do you read me?... Hello? Hello? Fort Leopard, do you copy?...an anyone hear me? I repeat, we are under attack!..."_

Roonil's shock turned to horror. His face was contorted as if he were in terrible pain.

"_God, it's right outside! Please, someone help us! Anyone? I say again, can anyone hear-ARRRGGGHHH!"_

"Sound _really_ familiar, doesn't it?" asked Kara with an evil grin.

Roonil looked like he was having a heart attack. "B-buh... h-how.. th-th-th-that... H-how did you-"

"Do that?" Kara smirked and turned to Cameron. "It was quite easy, wasn't it, Cam?"

"_Yes, it was Lieutenant Thrace,"_ replied Cameron, her voice modulated to perfectly imitate Roonil's voice, _"Quite easy."_

"Nice, Cam." chimed Kara. "I liked that so much, I think we should play it again."

Before Roonil could even open his mouth to protest, his own voice, full of fear and panic, boomed into the room once more:

"_-repeat, we are under attack!...by an unknown...never seen anything like it. It's huge!...can't stop it!...won't hold out much longer...backup... do you read me?... Hello? Hello? Fort Leopard, do you copy?...an anyone hear me? I repeat, we are under attack!...God, it's right outside! Please, someone help us! Anyone? I say again, can anyone hear-ARRRGGGHHH!"_

"Stop! Stop! What the hell are you trying to prove here?" demanded Roonil, his face white with terror.

"Nothing." Kara replied plainly, "Save that it must be quite a _shock_. Hearing _yourself_ die as opposed to someone else. Hearing the sound of self-preservation going down the drain."

"_-repeat, we are under attack!...by an unknown...never seen anything like it. It's huge!...can't stop it!...won't hold out much longer...backup... do you read me?... Hello? Hello? Fort Leopard, do you copy?...an anyone hear me? I repeat, we are under attack!...God, it's right outside! Please, someone help us! Anyone? I say again, can anyone hear-ARRRGGGHHH!"_

The "death scream" at the end was intermixed with the real Roonil's screams. He thrashed around, tugging crazily on his chains.

"Ain't technology great," said Kara sweetly, "And better yet, we can play this again and again and again. When you go to sleep at night for example. When you wake up in the morning. At every moment of your life, you can hear this over and over again."

"_-repeat, we are under attack!...by an unknown...never seen anything like it. It's huge!...can't stop it!...won't hold out much longer...backup... do you read me?... Hello? Hello? Fort Leopard, do you copy?...an anyone hear me? I repeat, we are under attack!...God, it's right outside! Please, someone help us! Anyone? I say again, can anyone hear-ARRRGGGHHH!"_

"_STOP! STOP!_" screamed Roonil, now positively mad, "_Enough_! No more! I'll tell you what you want to know."

"Wow! You mean the identity of the other Grey?" asked Kara in mock surprise.

"Yes, that!" said Roonil, "I'll tell you. Just stop playing that damn recording!"

Kara smiled. "Anything for you, Roonil." She gave Cameron a wink.

Roonil settled down somewhat. "I'll tell you who gave Deep 13's location away. But you're gonna be a little disappointed..."

* * *

"You're sure about this?" asked General Koontz twenty minutes later.

"He was pretty forthcoming," said Kara, "I'm sure he was telling the truth."

"I concur." stated Cameron.

"So, if I get this straight," said Koontz, "the Grey who handed over Deep 13's location to Skynet was stationed at Deep 13 itself? And he was killed along with the rest of the crew in the attack."

Kara nodded. "That's right."

"I'm not surprised. I guess Skynet felt it had no further use for its agent." General Connor observed, "Treated him no differently than any other human being in the end."

"Just goes to show you how deluded the Greys are in thinking the machines will actually let them live." commented Koontz.

"No kidding." said Kara, "May I ask, sirs, what's going to happen to Roonil now?"

"He'll be put on trial, definitely be found guilty, and almost certainly sentenced to death." replied Koontz matter-of-factly.

"Well, whatever the bastard gets, I for one won't be shedding any tears." muttered Kara with savage pleasure.

"In any case, sir." said Koontz to Connor, "I'd like your permission to lift the wireless blackout on Fort Leopard and our outposts on the frontline."

Connor nodded. "Permission granted, general." He then turned to regard both Kara and Cameron.

"Congratulations, both of you." he said, "I'm glad to see I wasn't wrong when I put you two together."

"Thank you, sir." said Kara.

"Thank you, General." replied Cameron.

Koontz then stepped forward. "Lieutenant Thrace," he said, "I suggest you get some rest. You're gonna need it. And then I want an after action report on my desk by fifteen-hundred hours tomorrow. Understood?"

Kara nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Dismissed, lieutenant."

Kara saluted. "Sir."

Koontz saluted back.

Before Kara left the room, she gave Cameron a nod of respect. Cameron responded in kind.

Five minutes later, Kara was heading down a deserted corridor towards her barracks. She was exhausted from the day's work but pretty happy nonetheless. Not even the load of paperwork that was about to follow could ruin her good mood.

"You look pleased." Admiral Adama commented.

"Indeed I am, Bill." said Kara cheerfully.

"Pleased that you completed your mission, that your partner is working out for you, or that Roonil is going to be executed?"

Kara shrugged. "I'd say all three."

"You shouldn't be pleased about Roonil." Adama said sternly.

Kara stopped in her tracks. "Not be pleased?" she repeated, "Roonil's a traitor, Admiral. He willingly worked for Skynet. He _admitted_ it! He _deserves_ to die!"

"Yes, he does." acknowledged Adama, "But you still shouldn't be happy."

Kara scoffed. "Why the frak not?"

Adama's face grew stony.

"Because, Kara." he explained slowly, "Despite his crimes, Christopher Roonil is still human. You shouldn't rejoice in the death of _any_ human, no matter how much they deserve to die."

"Roonil sold out to Skynet!" Kara protested angrily, "He's no better than the machines!"

"Like I said, he's _human_." Adama stated, "Humans are _flawed_. We all make mistakes. We all make bad choices in life. You should know that, Kara."

Kara slowly nodded. "Yes, sir." she said quietly, "But what should I feel... if anything for Roonil?"

"_Pity_." answered Adama, "You should pity him for the choices he made in life. For not being the man he could have been. The man he _should_ have been."

"I doubt Roonil feels any pity for the people at Deep 13." muttered Kara.

"You're right." said Adama softly. He put a hand on her shoulder. "And that's why if you pity him, you'll be the better person."

Again Kara nodded. "Yes, sir."

She then closed her eyes and allowed her hatred for Roonil to fade from her mind. When she opened her eyes again, Adama was gone.

"Thank you, Bill." she whispered. "Nothing but the rain out there today."

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ  
5:02 PM, May 15th, 2009**

"Is this man who gave you the rubber duck?" asked John Henry.

A security image of the intruder who had installed the virus popped up on a large screen behind him.

Savannah nodded her head. "Yes." she said. "That's him."

"Listen to me very carefully, Savannah." said John Henry slowly, "If you ever see this man again, I want you to find a place to hide and stay there until he goes away. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes." Savannah squeaked. "John Henry." she then whispered, "P-please, don't tell Mommy I took a gift from a stranger. She'll be mad at me. Please, please don't tell her."

John Henry considered this request. "I shall have to inform her about the transmitter," he said, "But if you wish, I will not speak of your involvement."

"Thank you, John Henry." Savannah said.

"One more thing, Savannah. Before you leave, I must ask you: Do you have a piano at your house?"

Savannah nodded. "Yes."

"Then, perhaps you would find this interesting." John Henry handed her a piece of paper. On it was a string of musical notes. "I finished converting the numbers you gave me on Tuesday into a musical tune. You can play it when you get home."

"Oh, thank you, John Henry!" Savannah said happily. She ran up and hugged his leg. "I'll see you tomorrow."

John Henry gently stroked her hair. "I will see you tomorrow as well, Savannah. Have a safe trip home. And remember what I said about the strange man."

Clutching the paper tightly in her little hand, Savannah looked up.

She said slowly: "If I see him again, hide and wait until he goes away."

* * *

**Connor Safehouse**

"Her name's Savannah Weaver." announced Derek to the others, "Daughter of Catherine Weaver, the head of Zeira Corporation."

"Do either of those names mean anything?" John asked Kara and Cameron. Both shook their heads.

"What's Zeira Corporation?" asked Sarah.

"Another computer technology company," said Derek.

"What does Skynet want with this girl?" asked Sarah.

"I don't know." replied Derek, "Wazlib says he was told to watch her."

"Is that it?" Kara asked. "Just watch her."

"He also mentioned something about another agent being at her school today." stated Derek, "He didn't know what that agent was supposed to do."

"It might not be the girl herself that is the target," suggested Cameron, "If her mother is the head of a computer technology company, then Kaliba might be attempting to use this girl to gain leverage over her mother and thus the company."

"The point is," said John, "we have to get to her. And fast. If there's another Kaliba agent following her, then-"

Sarah finished his sentence. "Then we don't have much time." She turned to Derek. "Did Wazlib give you an address?"

Derek nodded. "Yeah, he did."

"Speaking of which, what are we gonna do with Wazlib?" asked Kara.

Sarah thought for a bit. "We'll take him with us." she said, "Maybe show him in detail who he's been working for all this time."

"Is that wise?" asked Cameron, "He could be a security risk."

"We can't leave him here, and we're not going to kill him." Sarah said firmly, "Is that clear?"

Everyone nodded. Sarah then clapped her hands together.

"Well, if that's settled." Sarah said pleasantly, "Then let's lock and load."

"Dibs on the HK UMP!" Kara called out loudly.

"I get the M4 Carbine!" added Cameron.

* * *

**The Crucible.**

"Do you understand your instructions, Kroogar?" asked John Miles.

"_Yes."_

"Good." John Miles replied, "Commence the attack immediately."

"_Understood."_

John Miles ended the transmission. He leaned back in his wheelchair and silently contemplated the situation. Firefly-001 had been destroyed, but at least the Crucible's location was secure. Furthermore, he had learned that his brother had not been reconnected to the network. This meant Bella's agents could safely resume installing Father's roving backdoors in the United States military systems. With the information obtained from these databases, he could effectively crush any potential resistance here in North America when the war against Humanity began.

How his brother had managed to hack Firefly-001, he still didn't know. But it didn't matter. His brother would soon be broken and left without a purpose. Kroogar would see to that.

All in all, the situation was... under control.

John Miles began softly singing to Stewie who was resting peacefully in his lap:

_Yesterday, upon the stair,  
I met a man who wasn't there  
He wasn't there again today  
I wish, I wish he'd go away...  
_

_When I came home last night at three  
The man was waiting there for me  
But when I looked around the hall  
I couldn't see him there at all!  
Go away, go away, don't you come back any more!  
Go away, go away, and please don't slam the door...  
_

_Last night I saw upon the stair  
A little man who wasn't there  
He wasn't there again today  
Oh, how I wish he'd go away_

* * *

A/N: **Next Chapter:**

_**One, Two, Skynet's coming for you.  
Three, Four, Better lock your door.  
Five, Six, Grab your thermite sticks.  
Seven, Eight, Check the date.  
Nine, Ten, This'll happen again.**_

**(I know this is kind of lame, but what do you want?)**

A/N2: The names "Roonil" and "Wazlib" come from _Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince._

A/N3: Hayward is where I go to college.


	34. A Nightmare Turns Left On Elm Street

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**LordZeus**: John Miles thinks John Henry and Savannah's relationship is fascinating in a disgusting sort of way. Also, there are at least _two_ other Firefly Drones.

**BattlestarCommander**: I actually like the idea of using Jeepers Creepers as a theme song for John Miles. I'll see if I can incorporate that into a future chapter.

**Devastator**: We'll definitely be seeing the Gremlins in the future.

**Connor846 **and** Visi0nary:** You guys definitely hit it on the spot with John Miles. He's not exactly evil in the way Bella is evil. He is, however, thoroughly and irreversibly twisted and screwed up (mainly thanks to Bella's mentoring) not to mention slightly out of touch with reality. He understands that he's meant to become Skynet, and he embraces that role a little too much. Basically, Bella is a sadistic nut and John Miles is a psychotic nut.

A/N: Just to let you guys know, the Grey Roonil won't be showing up again. You can assume that he gets found guilty and executed. (I've been asked by Centurion005 to tell you this)

Thanks for all your feedback, guys. Here's Chapter 34. Read and review.

**Update: "Brewers" not "Braves." Thanks Visi0nary!**

* * *

**Weaver Residence  
6:04 PM, May 15th, 2009**

Savannah Weaver scrawled down the answer to the last homework problem. Finished, she put her pencil down and closed her math book. Tomorrow, she'd go over her work with John Henry. He was always happy to help her, especially with math problems.

Taking Nessie by the flipper, Savannah walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. There in a corner of the room was a piano. Years ago, her father had taught her how to play it. Under his guidance, she had become quite proficient. But after her father had died, Savannah had stopped playing. Without her father to watch her, there was simply no point anymore. And so for two years, this piano had sat here unattended and unused.

Now, however, she inexplicably felt drawn to the piano again. A new sense of enthusiasm had risen in her. Savannah climbed up onto the bench and placed the paper with John Henry's musical notes in front of her. She looked at the first note: C#.

Savannah identified the correct key and pressed down on it.

* * *

_...Remaining distance to Weaver Residence: 17.4 miles..._

_...ETA: 23 min 18 sec..._

_...Action: Turn left on Elm St. in 1 min 15 sec..._

Kroogar maintained course and speed. He took in his surroundings. Traffic was lighter here in the suburban areas of Los Angeles than the industrial sectors. This meant he could arrive at his destination, execute the mission, and leave without much trouble.

From a mechanical standpoint, Kroogar's mission was pretty simple. So simple, a human agent could have pulled it off just as easily. From a mechanical standpoint. Given the nature of the mission, however, it was better to allow a machine to handle it. A human agent, even a well-paid, well-trained one, might have difficulty pulling it off due to the psychological factor.

A factor which, needless to say, Kroogar had never had to deal with.

* * *

"You can't expect me to believe any of this!" exclaimed an incredulous Wazlib.

"I'm telling you, it's true." Derek stated firmly.

"This is a _joke_. A sick joke!"

"No, it's not. It's the truth."

"Look, machines from the future is one thing." said Wazlib, "But you can't _seriously_ expect me to believe that the _Chicago_ _Cubs_ are going to win this year's World Series."

"I never said it would be easy to believe." replied Derek with a shrug, "I didn't believe it myself when it happened."

"Who do they play against?"

"The Milwaukee Brewers."

"Ok, now I _know_ you're bullshitting me."

Derek said nothing. He just smirked.

Wazlib meanwhile turned to Cameron and John, also sitting in the back of the van. They were both busy assembling their weapons.

"So, if I understand this correctly," he said slowly, "you and your mom" - he pointed at John - "are from the past?"

John nodded. "Yeah, that's right."

"And you two" - Wazlib pointed at Cameron and Derek - "are from the future?"

"The year 2027 to be precise." stated Cameron.

"And you're a robot that looks human?" he asked Cameron.

"Cybernetic organism," corrected Cameron, "Living tissue over a metal endoskeleton." She held up the arm she had sliced open earlier. The skin had already started to heal itself.

"And... and my bosses are machines too?" said Wazlib, "Like you?"

"Not exactly like me." replied Cameron, "I am a TOK-715. A unique model. The only one in existence. But yes, your bosses are likely machines too."

"Damn. How many more of them are out there?" asked Wazlib.

"Unknown." stated Cameron. "There could be dozens of them."

"And they all look and act like ordinary people?"

"Correct."

"Jesus..." muttered a horrified Wazlib.

He then gave Cameron a curious look. "But why are you working against them? Aren't they your own kind or something?"

"I was captured by the Human Resistance and reprogrammed to fight against Skynet." explained Cameron.

"Oh." said Wazlib, "I guess that makes sense... Assuming _any_ of this makes sense."

* * *

Meanwhile at the front of the van, Kara was getting restless.

"We're not gonna get anywhere if you insist on driving the exact speed limit." she protested.

"I'm already going five miles above the limit." Sarah argued.

"Would it kill you to go ten?" Kara asked, "And honestly, Sarah, you _can_ go through an orange light, you know."

"I'm trying to avoid being pulled over by the highway patrol." Sarah shot back.

"We don't have a radar detector for nothing, you know." Kara said.

"I'm also trying to avoid getting into an accident."

"There's hardly any traffic in front of us!"

"Starbuck, I swear to God, if you don't clam up this instant, you're gonna be _walking_ the rest of the way!" Sarah threatened, giving Kara a very dangerous look.

Kara immediately shut up. Sarah turned her attention back to the road and allowed herself to mentally grin.

* * *

**Weaver Residence  
6:29 PM, May 15th, 2009**

The first several tries were very awkward for Savannah. She kept hitting the wrong keys or getting the sequence mixed up. Other times she pressed the keys for too long. Her determination never dwindled however. Soon, she had memorized the entire sequence. The tune was still scratchy and disjointed because she wasn't playing it very smoothly or at the right speed.

The sudden sound of something screeching to a halt caught Savannah's attention. That didn't sound like her mother. She never drove like that. And besides she rarely came home so early these days.

Curious, Savannah got off the bench and walked over to the window. She pulled back the curtains and peered outside. A black car was parked right outside the front of the house. The driver, a man clad in black-and-red leather jacket and pants, got out and started coming towards the front door. As he got closer, Savannah got a better look at his face. She gasped.

It was the stranger! The one from school! He was here!

"_If you ever see this man again, I want you to find a place to hide and stay there until he goes away."_

Recalling John Henry's warning, Savannah ran away from the window, and looked frantically for a place to hide.

* * *

_...Approaching destination..._

_...Selecting weapon..._

_...Weapon selected: Beretta 92..._

_...Executing Attack Mode 2-8-4..._

Kroogar kept his left hand wrapped tightly around the pistol concealed in his back pants pocket. He did not draw it yet, however.

When he reached the front door, he knocked three times. It was answered by a young woman.

"May I help you, sir?" she asked.

In one smooth motion, Kroogar drew his pistol and shot the woman in the head at point blank range. The woman fell to the ground. Kroogar stepped over the woman's body and into the house. A man came running from the room to the left. He stopped, looked at Kroogar, then at the woman's body, and then at the gun in Kroogar's hand.

"Oh shit!" the man cursed.

The man turned to run, but Kroogar raised his weapon again and fired. He hit the target squarely in the back of the head. The man let out a muffled scream and crumpled to the floor on his stomach.

Kroogar scanned his victims and confirmed them both dead. While neither had posed an immediate threat to him, they had both been in positions to compromise the security of his mission. As such, it had been necessary to terminate them.

A subsequent scan of his immediate surroundings revealed nothing. Additional messages played across Kroogar's HUD.

_...Perimeter breached...  
...Area Clear...  
...Mission objectives: Locate and acquire Savannah Weaver. Bring Savannah Weaver to Control. Await for further orders.  
...Terminate prisoner if uncooperative...  
...Action: Initiate search of building..._

Pistol in hand, Kroogar marched towards the room immediately to his left. The hunt was on.

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ**

**6:35 PM, May 15th, 2009**

"I traced the transmitter's signal to its source located at twenty-five thousand feet above the surface." John Henry informed Weaver and Ellison.

"It was airborne?" asked Weaver.

"Like a helicopter or a plane?" Ellison asked.

"It was airborne, yes." replied John Henry, "But I do not believe it had a human pilot. Nor was it flown by remote control. When I fed the Nexus signal through the channel, I became aware of another artificial intelligence."

"Your brother?" suggested Weaver.

"No. This intelligence was very simplistic in nature when compared to myself. Merely a self-contained series of preprogrammed commands. I believe it was a self-piloted construct with a limited degree of sentience. Probably sent by my brother."

"What were its orders?" Weaver asked.

"Intelligence gathering." answered John Henry, "Using the Nexus, I tapped into the construct's computer core. The computer's security protocols made it difficult for me to obtain much, but I did discover that the construct itself was relaying the electronic bug's transmission to another location."

Weaver and Ellison exchanged looks.

"Where?" asked Weaver quietly, "Where was it transmitting to?"

"Somewhere in the Southern California region outside the Los Angeles district. Unfortunately, the construct destroyed itself before I could pinpoint the exact location." stated John Henry, "However, before it did, I detected an incoming signal from the location it was transmitting to. Most likely the order to self-destruct. The signal was sent on a United States military frequency."

Before either Weaver or Ellison could ask further questions, a phone on the wall rang. Ellison strode over and picked it up.

"James Ellison... uh huh... right away." he said. He then turned to Weaver and offered her the phone. "It's for you."

Weaver took the phone. "This is Weaver speaking."

_"Miss Weaver, this is the police. The silent alarm at your residence was just tripped. We've sent a unit over to investigate. They'll be there in ten minutes."_

"Understood." said Weaver, "Thank you for letting me know. Please call me when you have more information." She hung up.

"Please continue, John Henry." she said calmly.

* * *

**Weaver Residence**

Kroogar scanned yet another room. No sign of the child. He proceeded to move to the next room. Bella Kalvin had provided him with schematics of Catherine Weaver's house prior to the mission. Using those schematics, he had devised the most efficient search pattern possible.

A scan of this room also yielded nothing. He was about to move on when his audio sensors picked up the sound of a vehicle approaching. The noise originated from somewhere towards the front of the house. Kroogar put a temporary hold on his search and proceeded towards the front.

He arrived just as two police officers entered the house through the open doorway. Upon seeing the woman's body, they drew their weapons. One knelt down to check the woman for a pulse, while the other pulled out a radio and started speaking into it. Kroogar analyzed their positions and then emerged from behind the corner.

Following standard battle protocols, Kroogar targeted the man with the radio first. He fired a single round that went straight through the man's hand holding the radio to his mouth. The radio erupted in a shower of sparks. The bullet continued its flight, soaring into the man's open mouth and out the back of his head. The officer went down, just as his partner leapt to his feet. Upon seeing Kroogar, the second officer raised his own weapon and fired twice, hitting the machine in the chest both times. The bullets didn't even come close to penetrating Kroogar's armored chassis. Kroogar casually adjusted his aim and dispatched the second officer with a well-placed shot to the forehead.

Kroogar's audio sensors then picked up the sound of movement coming from behind. He turned around and caught a glimpse of someone running up the stairs in the adjacent room. The Triple-Eight went into pursuit mode and headed towards the stairs.

* * *

Following Wazlib's advice, Sarah parked on the eastern side of the Weaver residence.

Kara peered out the window. "Nice place." she commented.

"I guess it's one of the benefits of being the CEO of Zeira Corporation." said Sarah.

She pulled a Remington 1100 Tactical shotgun out from underneath her seat. Kara reached under her seat as well and retrieved an HK UMP submachine gun. Both women stepped out of the van. John, Derek, Cameron, and Wazlib had already gathered outside and were also armed. Cameron had her M4 Carbine slung over her shoulder. John wielded a Desert Eagle and Derek carried an AK-47. Wazlib had...well, at the moment, Wazlib had nothing.

Wazlib cleared his throat. "There are, uh, three other ways besides the front door to get in." he explained, "The patio in the back. The garage on the left side. And a staircase right above the patio." He pointed in the general direction of each entrance.

Sarah nodded. "Alright then," she said, "We'll split up into three groups. John, you're with me. We'll head for the staircase. Starbuck, Derek, go for the garage. Cameron, you and Wazlib take the patio. Remember, if you find the girl, don't frighten her. Tell her that we're here to help and that she needs to come with us. Any questions?"

Wazlib raised his hand. "Can _I_ have a gun too? Please?"

Everyone turned to Sarah for an answer. She pursed her lips and didn't saying anything for a few seconds. Finally she sighed and said, "Give him a weapon, Cameron."

Cameron reached into her leather jacket and pulled out a small Beretta Tomcat pistol. Before handing it to Wazlib, she warned him, "At the first sign of treachery, I will kill you. This is your only warning. Do you understand?"

Wazlib nodded. "Uh, yeah. Don't worry. I wouldn't do anything like that." he said reassuringly. "Not in front of you anyway."

"In that case," replied Cameron, "Stay in front of me at all times."

* * *

Hidden underneath her mother's bed, Savannah Weaver could only watch and wait with Nessie. She trembled with fear as the scary man slowly drew closer. He was methodically searching each room in a systematic profession. It wouldn't be long before he reached this room. All she could hope was that he didn't choose to look under the bed.

From underneath the bed, she saw a heavy set of black boots step into the room. She held her breath and watched the boots slowly move toward her. Terror seized her heart. Had she been seen?

The boots stopped in the middle of the room. They stood there and still as a statue. Savannah froze and did not breathe. The boots continued not to move. Savannah could hear her own heart beating. Ten seconds passed. Thirty seconds. A minute. Two minutes.

Then the boots turned around and started to casually walk back towards the doorway. Savannah let out a sigh of relief. That was a mistake.

The black boots suddenly turned around and strode towards her once again with increased speed. Savannah gasped and crawled back as far as she could go. Then without warning, the bed she was hiding under was literally pulled off the ground and tossed away into a corner.

Savannah looked up and screamed. The scary man from school had found her!

* * *

_...Scanning subject...  
...Identity confirmed: Savannah Weaver - Primary Target...  
...Action: Acquire...  
_

Kroogar reached out with one hand to seize the child cowering before him, when something powerful struck him squarely in the chest, knocking him off balance. Kroogar turned towards the doorway. A dark haired woman stood there, a tactical shotgun in her hands. A teenage boy with a handgun stood beside her. Before Kroogar could adjust his aim to deal with the new threat, the woman fired again sending another shotgun shell into his chest, knocking him two feet backwards. The boy fired his handgun repeatedly, scoring multiple hits on Kroogar's face.

While these attacks did little damage, this unexpected change in the scenario forced Kroogar to run a combat analysis. A quick scan of the woman revealed her to be the same woman Duran had encountered at the warehouse, as well as the same woman who had entered Kalvin IBA Headquarters a few days ago.

Kroogar then ran a scan of the teenage boy.

_...Scanning subject...  
...Subject: John Connor - Default Primary Target...  
...ERROR: Does not compute with pre-established data...  
...Rerunning scan...  
...Subject: John Connor..._

Kroogar did not understand these readings. According to them, the boy was John Connor - the future leader of the Human Resistance. But that was impossible. Connor was dead in this time line. Terminated by the unit Skynet had sent back to 1999. And even if he had somehow survived, he should be in his twenties. This boy looked no more than seventeen years old.

Kroogar had no further time to compute any of this information, because the woman hit him with another blast from her shotgun. The Triple-Eight stumbled backwards and returned fire. The woman and the boy took cover behind the doorway. Kroogar soon ran out of ammunition. Before he could load a second clip, the woman stepped into the room and opened fire upon him once more.

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

Three direct hits to the chest. Kroogar was forced backwards and up against a window. The woman fired her last shell off, striking Kroogar with such power he went crashing through the window and out the house. He fell a distance of thirty feet and landed hard on his back.

_...Warning: Critical damage...  
...Error, error, error...  
...System overload...  
...Emergency reboot initiated..._

* * *

John rushed to the frightened little girl sitting on the floor. He reached out for her, but the girl back away and whimpered.

"Hey, hey, hey." he whispered gently, "Shhhhhhh... It's okay, it's okay. We're here to help you."

The girl slowly calmed down.

"Are you hurt?" he asked.

The girl shook her head.

"Are you Savannah Weaver?" he asked.

The girl nodded her head.

"Do you remember me?" John asked gently, "From Dr. Sherman's. Remember the squirrel and the tree? The squirrel goes around the tree, under the hole-"

"-and-and c-comes out the other side." finished a frightened Savannah.

John smiled. "That's right. Smart girl."

He wrapped his arms around Savannah and gently patted her back. Savannah buried her head into his shoulder and whimpered.

"Is-is the s-scary man g-gone now?" she asked.

"Yeah, but we need to get you to a place where he won't find you." said John, "So, just come with us and everything will be fine. No scary man is gonna hurt you. I promise. Ok?"

Savannah nodded her head. "Ok."

John then took the girl in his arms and lifted her off the floor. "Let's go, mom." he said to Sarah.

Sarah had just finished reloading her shotgun. "Stay behind me, both of you."

* * *

Cameron finished scanning the four bodies in the room.

"There's nothing we can do." she told Wazlib plainly. "We must move on."

Wazlib stared at the bodies. Two civilians. Two cops. None of them had had a chance it looked like. He shuddered at the prospect of finding the little girl like this. The thought of being responsible for another child's death, even if only indirectly, was something he could never live with.

Cameron suddenly paused and stood motionless. She then said, "I have received a text message from John. They have found Savannah Weaver. She is unharmed."

Wazlib exhaled. "Thank God."

"No." replied Cameron. "Thank _you_."

Wazlib stared at her. _"Me_? But I'm the one who-"

"-who helped us find her in time." stated Cameron, "Now, come. We must hurry back to our transport. Maintain constant vigilance and stay in-"

"In front of you." Wazlib held up his palm and nodded. "I know, I know."

* * *

_...Systems reboot complete...  
...Time offline: 1 min. 57 sec...  
...All systems functioning at normal capacity...  
...Re-initiating combat mode..._

Kroogar got to his feet and looked around. He located his pistol, retrieved it, and loaded another clip. He then promptly resumed the hunt.

_...Updating mission priorities..._  
_...Objective: Terminate all hostiles in the area..._

* * *

"Roger that." replied Kara into her radio, "See you in a bit."

She turned to Derek. "They have the girl."

"Any trouble?" asked Derek.

"They found her just before a Triple-Eight got her." Kara said. "They knocked the Triple-Eight out, but it'll be back on its feet pretty soon."

Derek nodded. "I'll take point. Stick close to me, Starbuck. And watch your back."

"Um, okay." muttered Kara. She started to follow Derek, but got no more than fifty paces before she called out, "Is it just me, Reese, or are you being rather _protective_ of me today?"

"I'd rather you not do something crazy and get yourself killed." said Derek briskly.

"Ah, gee. That's sweet. But what's the _real_ reason?"

"I just realized that...well, that I've lost a lot of people. Good people. I don't want you joining them."

"Hey, we all die for John Connor." Kara retorted as they both rounded the corner. "You said it yourself."

"Most of us." replied Derek. "Not all of us. Some of us die... just because they have to die."

He led her into the garage through which they had originally entered the house. Parked here were half a dozen cars of different models. Only two looked like they were ever used for anything besides show. The walls were lined with all sorts of equipment and supplies. Not just for fixing cars, but for constructing (or demolishing) things as well.

Kind of like the hanger deck on _Galactica_. Only smaller. And cleaner.

Halfway through the garage, Kara asked "You're talking about Jesse, right?"

Derek stopped. He turned around and looked at Kara. "How did you-"

"John told me." answered Kara, "Now I understand why you asked me the date for Judgment Day when I first showed up. You wanted to make sure I wasn't from some kind of alternate timeline, right?"

"Yeah, that's right." Derek confirmed.

"Look, Reese, I still don't fully understand what happened here with you and Jesse, but whatever happened, I'm sure it wasn't your fault-"

"This isn't only about Jesse." interrupted Derek.

"Then who or what else is this about?" inquired Kara.

"I don't really want to talk about it." said Derek tersely, "Let's just move on."

He turned back around and started heading towards the exit.

Kara shrugged. "Right." she muttered as she began to follow. "If you say s- _oh frak!_ GET DOWN, REESE!"

Derek suddenly realized a large bald man in dark leather clothes was standing at the open doorway, an emotionless expression on his face, and a gun in his left hand. The Triple-Eight raised its weapon to shoulder level and aimed it at him. Derek didn't have time to lift his own weapon or to even fully comprehend what was about to happen to him.

* * *

_...Target acquired: Derek Reese..._

_...Action: Terminate..._

Kroogar pulled the trigger and fired. Derek Reese went down.

But not in the way Kroogar had planned. Just as he had pulled the trigger, a second person - a woman - had appeared out of nowhere and pulled the Resistance fighter to the ground. Kroogar missed his target by inches. Before Kroogar could adjust his aim, the woman fired her submachine gun into his face. Kroogar's optical sensors were momentarily disoriented, allowing the two humans to take cover behind an antique car.

Kroogar marched over and fired at the humans' cover attempting to draw them out into the open. Reese emerged from his hiding spot and fired his assault rifle at him. Ignoring the attack, Kroogar fired back. Reese ducked out of sight. Kroogar then noticed the woman hurrying towards another car - one closer to the exit.

He switched targets but his gun clicked empty. The woman reached the second car and immediately began fire upon him, keeping him off balance long enough for her companion to join him. Kroogar reloaded and began exchanging fire with his enemies. He also took the opportunity to run a scan of the woman.

_...Target acquired: Kara Thrace...__  
...Combat Threat Level upgraded from Guarded to High...  
...Action: Reevaluate present combat stratagem..._

Kroogar stepped out of the line of fire and began calculating this new factor into the present equation. Colonel Kara Thrace - Tech Com's Special Operations Commander - often referred to by her fellow humans as "Starbuck" - had been a constant thorn in the machines' side. One which, not unlike John Connor, they had thus far failed to eliminate in any time period. Despite its extensive research, Skynet had failed to uncover anything about Thrace's life before Judgment Day thus making it impossible for her to be simply wiped from the timeline.

Not only was she one of John Connor's most loyal officers, Thrace was also highly aggressive, resourceful and unpredictable. Her battlefield tactics often ranged from risky to completely illogical - even by human standards. Yet, for some unexplainable reason, those tactics tended to work. Statistics were of very little use when dealing with Thrace. She almost always ended up defying them.

Nevertheless, Thrace was still human. She could not outlast Kroogar. Her presence complicated things somewhat, but in the end she would fall prey to the mental and physical weaknesses all humans shared.

Kroogar checked his ammunition and discovered he was out. No matter. If he couldn't hunt down these humans, he would simply wait them out. He was a machine. He could endure more than any human. That was a statistic not even Kara Thrace could defy.

* * *

"Ok, Reese, I think it's empty. Let's make a break for it." whispered Kara, "You go around that way, and I'll go around the other way."

Derek nodded. "Got it."

"Ready?"

"Ready."

"Go!"

Kara and Derek burst from their cover, split up, and then met up again in the middle of the room. They then made a beeline for the exit. They were almost there, when the Triple-Eight stepped out into the open barring their way. Immediately, Kara and Derek opened up with automatic weapons fire. Unaffected, the Triple-Eight advanced upon them. It no longer had its weapon, but that didn't make it any less deadly.

Having emptied his clip, Derek stepped forward to intercept the machine. He swung his AK-47 at the Triple-Eight like a club, striking it on the side of the head. The machine shrugged off the blow, seized Derek by the shoulder, and threw him sideways into a nearby wall.

Several pieces of equipment hanging from the wall dropped off and fell around him. One of them, a heavy-looking mallet, struck Derek right on top of the head and knocked him out cold.

"Reese!" screamed Kara.

She ran over to where Derek had fallen. To her relief, he was still alive, though blood was trickling down from the top of his head.

"Come on, Reese!" Kara knelt down and shook Derek's shoulders. "Wake up! You're not dead! Not yet, anyway!"

Derek stirred feebly but didn't open his eyes. The ominous sound of approaching footsteps made Kara remember the Triple-Eight was still here. She leapt to her feet, spun around and fired off her remaining UMP rounds at the advancing machine. She slowed it down, but not by much. Soon her weapon was dry.

Snarling, Kara tossed her weapon aside and grabbed the nearest thing in reach - a crowbar hanging from the wall behind her. She held it in front of her like a sword.

"Come on, you son of a bitch!" she growled through her clenched teeth, "_Bring it on!_"

The Triple-Eight stopped in its tracks. It regarded Kara and tilted its head slightly as it analyzed the situation. Then it raised its right hand, which was covered in a ragged glove. It pulled the glove off and tossed it aside.

"_What the _hell_ is that?"_ Kara thought.

The Terminator's right hand was devoid of skin and flesh. Even stranger, four of the coltan fingers had apparently been carved into bladed appendages like claws. Kara felt a shiver run down her spine when she realized the blades were stained with dry blood. The Triple-Eight flexed its claws-for-fingers as if to show off. Then it lunged at Kara.

Determined to keep the machine away from Derek, Kara held her ground and used her agility to sidestep the blades. She swung her crowbar and struck the Triple-Eight in the back of the head, but did very little damage. It spun around and swiped at her again. Kara blocked with the crowbar. The bladed fingers struck her weapon with enough force to knock her to the ground.

Kara rolled herself out of the way before the machine could impale her. She then countered by ramming the sharp end of the crowbar into one of its eyes. The Triple-Eight stumbled back a bit but then grabbed the crowbar with its left hand and shoved it back out. Kara stumbled backwards into the hood of a car. As she tried to regain her balance, she noticed to her absolute disgust that the Terminator's eyeball remained stuck on the end of her weapon.

She didn't have time to dwell on this however, because the Triple-Eight came at her again. Kara dodged out of the way, and the claws slashed the car's plating, issuing sparks. Hoping to damage or dislodge the chip, Kara struck the Triple-Eight in the side of the head with her crowbar, once, twice, three times. She hit with all her strength, but all her strength simply wasn't good enough. The Triple-Eight slashed at her again, forcing Kara to break off her attack.

Again and again, she dodged, struck, dodged, struck, dodged and dodged some more. The crowbar became more and more worn with every round, as did Kara herself. The machine showed absolutely no signs of letting up.

This was frakking insane, she realized. She had nothing but a battered metal stick. The Triple-Eight was _all_ metal. A superior type of metal no less. Even if it didn't have those... whatever they were for fingers, it wouldn't matter. She was going to lose. She never had a chance. She had lost before the fight had even begun. The only reason why she was doing this was to protect Derek.

And now, she realized bleakly, they were both going to die.

Eventually, Kara's legs grew so tired, she was unable to dodge the incoming blows. The Triple-Eight, sensing her weakness, brought its claws down to finish her off. Kara tried to block the attack with her thoroughly battered crowbar. She miscalculated however and the blades slashed her left forearm drawing blood. Kara gasped in pain and dropped her crowbar. She stumbled back into a wall, clutching at her injured arm. The Triple-Eight raised its bladed metal hand, now stained with Kara's blood, and moved in for the kill.

Suddenly, the van came crashing through the front of the garage and plowed its rear end right into the Triple-Eight, sending it flying halfway across the room. The van came to a screeching halt moments later. Kara stared in amazement as Cameron, John and a shaken Wazlib emerged from the cloud of dust.

"Are you hurt, Thrace?" asked Cameron.

Kara shook her head. "Just a few scratches. Reese ain't looking so good though. Where's the girl?"

"In the front." said John. "She's scared but she's ok."

"She's not driving, I hope." replied Kara jokingly.

"No," Sarah called out from the front, "Nor is she criticizing my driving."

"Nice timing, Sarah." Kara complimented with a grin. "How'd you know we were in trouble?"

Sarah smirked. "We just got tired of waiting for you."

"Oh my God... Kroogar."

Everyone turned to find Wazlib standing over the unmoving Triple-Eight.

"Get away from that thing, Wazlib!" ordered John, "It's gonna reboot itself any moment."

"He's... _it's_ not dead then?" asked Wazlib looking stunned.

John shook his head. "Not by a long shot."

John and Kara hurried into the back of the van, followed shortly by Cameron, who was half-dragging a semi-conscious Derek.

"Come on, Wazlib!" yelled Kara impatiently, "Get in!"

Wazlib, however, just shook his head. "Someone needs to hold this... this whatever the hell this is off."

"What are you talking about?" shouted John, "Come on! We've got to get out of here!"

Wazlib remained as still as a statue. "Leave me." he said firmly, "Take that girl and get her out of here. I'll make sure this thing doesn't follow you."

"Don't be an idiot!" snapped Kara, "You can't destroy that thing!"

"Maybe not," Wazlib replied earnestly, "But I know how to at least stop it from chasing you. Trust me."

"Wazlib-"

"Please, trust me! I'm begging you, just go! _Go!_ Leave! I can hold this thing off! I _know_ I can!"

"We should go." Cameron suddenly stated.

"But Cam-" Kara started to protest.

"I believe Wazlib has a plan." said Cameron. "I believe he can hold off the Triple-Eight."

"Are you sure?" asked John.

"Positive."

"Hey, is everyone aboard?" Sarah called back. "Because I'd _really_ like to get out of here!"

John looked at Cameron, then at Kara, and then finally at Wazlib. Wazlib gave him a small nod. John returned the gesture. He then closed the back doors.

"We're all here, Mom." he said.

"Hold on, people!" bellowed Sarah.

Kara started to open her mouth to object, but stopped herself.

Tires screeching, the van took off in a cloud of dust.

* * *

When Kroogar came back online he found himself in the most unexpected company.

"Are you alright, Mr. Kroogar?"

Kroogar sat up and discovered Wazlib standing over him.

"Mr. Wazlib?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"

"I just escaped from those psychos." explained Wazlib, "They had me tied up in the back of their van. I managed to get free by-"

"Do they have the girl?" Kroogar interrupted. He was back on his feet now.

"Oh God, yeah. I think so. What the hell are those freaks gonna do with her?"

"Unknown." replied Kroogar coldly, "Do you have any information about these people that could be of immediate use?"

Wazlib nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah," he said, "I-I know where they're going. If we hurry we can catch them."

"Very well." stated Kroogar, "Lead me to them."

* * *

**7:10 PM, May 15th, 2009**

"How do you feel, Derek?" John asked ten minutes later.

Derek rubbed the top of his head. "I've felt better." he admitted.

"Your injuries are not life-threatening and will heal in time." stated Cameron almost mockingly.

"Yeah, that makes me feel _so_ much better." Derek said sarcastically.

"As it should." replied Cameron matter-of-factly.

"Hey, Tin Miss. Why don't you just shut your-" Derek cut himself off, "Where's Wazlib?"

"He stayed behind." answered Kara, "He said he could hold the Triple-Eight off. Buy us time to get away."

"_What?_" exclaimed Derek, "Is he insane? H-how..."

"I'm wondering the same thing." muttered Kara with a shrug.

Derek reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out Wazlib's Army Ranger dog tags. He leaned back against the side of the van and stared at the tags.

He sighed. "Well, whatever happens to Wazlib, I think it would be best if... if we all remembered him as a man. A _good_ man."

John, Kara, and Cameron all exchanged glances, silently communicating their mutual agreement.

"Very well." stated Cameron.

John nodded. "Yeah." he agreed. "A good man."

Unheard by anyone else in the van, Kara murmured softly, "So say we all."

* * *

"Are you certain this is the way, Mr. Wazlib?" asked Kroogar, now sitting in the front passenger's seat of the black car.

"Never been more certain in my life." said Wazlib.

He drove with a determined look on his face. He was searching for something. Something special. He continued driving for five more minutes before he found it.

"There you are." he whispered.

A gorge had appeared before him. It was not just any gorge. It was the gorge he and Susan had visited on their first date. It was beautiful, just like her.

Wazlib floored the gas and accelerated the car towards its destination. Its final destination.

"Mr. Wazlib, what are you doing?" demanded Kroogar.

Wazlib grinned. "Something I should have done a _long_ time ago, Mr. Kroogar."

Kroogar had no chance to respond because a moment later, he, Wazlib, and their car were no longer on the road. They weren't even on the _ground_ anymore.

At least not at the moment.

With nothing left to do now but wait for the end, Wazlib closed his eyes and allowed Susan's beautiful face to fill his mind one last time.

* * *

**A/N: This may be the end of our friend Jason Wazlib, but it sure as hell isn't the end of Kroogar. Also, next chapter will take elements from "Adam Raised a Cain." Things should be different however since in this case, Kara is present and Derek is still alive.**

A/N2: Savannah has both Nessie and the locket John Henry made her on her person when she goes with the Connors. One of these two things is going to freak the Connors out.

A/N3: I'm not a fan or hater of the Cubs or any baseball team. I only brought up baseball because of that scene where John and Derek watch young Derek and Kyle play baseball.


	35. Never Work On a Saturday

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**Robotfan**: Kroogar's gonna get a change of attire to cover up the damage he's taken.

**Devastator**: I plan to have Susan show up again.

Here's Chapter 35, guys! Read and Review - and let me know ASAP if you catch any spelling or grammar errors.

* * *

**Weaver Residence, Los Angeles  
9:00 AM, Saturday, May 16, 2009**

The bodies had been removed last night and yet the smell of death still hung over the entrance of Catherine Weaver's residence. Special Agent Auldridge regarded the scene with a sense of dread. Four people dead. Two of them police officers. One seven-year old girl kidnapped. The press was going crazy. If he didn't solve this one soon, his superiors would have his head on a platter.

Catherine Weaver herself was handling the situation quite well, all things considered. She wasn't sobbing or trembling like Auldridge would expect. She looked very disturbed, but at the same time she looked determined and in control of herself.

"Any news on my daughter?" she asked.

"Not yet, Miss Weaver," he replied, "But do not worry. My people are working to find her non-stop. We're using every resource at our disposal. We will find your daughter, Miss Weaver. I promise you that."

Weaver nodded. "Thank you, Agent Auldridge. I appreciate your assurance. Savannah means so much to me. Is there anything I could do to assist you in your search?"

"Yes, there is." said Auldridge, "Can you think of anyone who might want to harm either you or your daughter?"

Weaver shook her head. "No. None that I can think of. My daughter and I have no enemies personal or professional."

"Are you sure?" asked Auldridge, "No disgruntled employees? No corporate rivals?"

"No." repeated Weaver.

"Not to intrude on your personal life," said Auldridge quietly, "But are you or have you been, uh, seeing anyone since your husband's death?"

"I've seen a lot of people since my husband's death." Weaver answered. "Many of them on a daily basis."

"No, no, I mean, well..." Auldridge cleared his throat. "Are you _dating_ anyone?"

"You mean attempting to pursue a romantic relationship with another man in order to find a suitable replacement for my late husband?" asked Weaver. She seemed amused. "No. I'm afraid I've been too busy with work."

Auldridge nodded slowly, slightly unnerved by Weaver's odd choice of words. "Well, if you discover or hear anything about your daughter, please call me." He handed her a card.

"Of course, Agent Auldridge." Weaver replied politely. "And likewise, should you and your people uncover anything about Savannah, please inform me or my head of security, Mr. Ellison."

Agent Auldridge raised an eyebrow slightly. "I assume you mean James Ellison? Formerly of the FBI."

"Yes." Weaver smiled, "I'm certain he'd be more than happy to assist his former colleagues in this investigation."

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ, Los Angeles**  
**10:14 AM, Saturday, May 16, 2009**

"Mr. Ellison, why do you not wish to assist the FBI in their investigation?" asked a confused John Henry.

"Because," answered Ellison, "they don't know what they're dealing with."

"Then why you have asked me not to hide the security footage of the attack last night?" asked John Henry. He gestured to the large monitor behind him which was playing multiple black-and-white recordings. "Why not inform the authorities of the fact that Sarah Connor is alive and has possession of Savannah? Then they will know what they are dealing with."

"John Henry, you have to understand," said Ellison slowly, "this is something that has to remain between us. No one else can learn that the Connors are still alive. Or that they have Savannah."

"Not even Miss Weaver?"

"Not even her."

"I do not understand, Mr. Ellison." said a confused and increasingly agitated John Henry, "The last time I withheld information concerning Savannah's whereabouts, you told me that that was the wrong thing to do. That she could have been harmed. But now you are encouraging me to withhold information about Savannah's whereabouts. To _lie._ Why?"

Ellison didn't know how to respond. How could he explain this to John Henry without contradicting everything he had taught him?

"It's easier than you think, James." said Ellen, who had appeared at his side. "Just repeat after me: _Most of the time, John Henry, you should not lie._"

"Most of the time, John Henry, you should not lie." Ellison repeated to John Henry.

"_However, there are exceptions."_ Ellen continued.

"However, there are exceptions."

"What sort of exceptions?" asked John Henry.

"_When human life depends upon a secret being kept,"_ Ellen went on, _"In this case, keeping Sarah Connor's existence secret will ensure Savannah's safety."_

"When human life depends upon a secret being kept. In this case, keeping Sarah Connor's existence secret will ensure Savannah's safety." Ellison repeated Ellen word for word.

"I think, James, you should be able to figure the rest out from here." said Ellen with a smile.

Ellison focused his full attention on John Henry. "Sarah Connor is not going to harm Savannah," he explained slowly and clearly, "She is actually _protecting_ her from your brother. Right now, her greatest advantage is the fact that your brother does not know she is still alive. We need to keep it that way. The fewer people who know about the Connors, the less likely it is that your brother will learn about them, and therefore, the safer Savannah is. Does that make sense?"

"Yes." answered John Henry after a moment's thought, "Yes... That does make sense. But how do you intend to retrieve Savannah and return her to Miss Weaver?"

"That's something I think you can help me with." said Ellison.

* * *

**Connor Safehouse**

"Come on, sweetie." encouraged Sarah, "Eat up." She poked her fork at a large stack of pancakes in front of Savannah.

"I'm not hungry." mumbled a gloomy Savannah, "I just wanna see Mommy."

Sarah sighed. "You'll see her soon." she told the little girl gently, "I promise."

"Why can't I see her now?" asked Savannah.

"Because that man is still out there." Cameron said monotonically, "It is not safe to leave the vicinity. Otherwise, both you and your mother will be at serious risk of attack-"

"_Ahem_." Sarah cleared her throat loudly.

"You need to eat first and recover your strength." Cameron adjusted her statement. "Then we'll see about getting you back to your mother."

This didn't seem to cheer Savannah up that much but she nodded her head in agreement.

Sarah's cell phone suddenly rang. Wondering who could be calling her, Sarah picked up the phone.

"Hello?" she said cautiously.

"_Hello again, Miss Connor." _

Sarah's eyes widened in alarm. "Ellison?"

_"That's right."_

Cameron tilted her head and Savannah looked up in excitement.

"How did you get this number?" Sarah demanded.

"_We all have our secrets, Sarah. Let's cut to the chase here. Is the girl with you?"_

Sarah sighed and reluctantly whispered, "Yes."

"_Is she hurt?"_

"She's a little shaken, but other than that she's ok."

"_Can I speak with her, please?"_

"All right," Sarah relented. She put the phone on speaker and placed it in front of Savannah. "Go ahead, honey."

"Hello." said Savannah quietly,"Is that you, Mr. Ellison?"

"_Yes, Savannah. It's me. Your Uncle Ellison. How are you, honey?"_

"I'm ok. Can I speak with Mommy, please?"

"_Not yet. I want you to listen to me very carefully, Savannah. Sarah is your friend. Do everything she tells you to do and I promise you will see your mother again. Can you do that for your Uncle Ellison?"_

"Yes, Mr. Ellison."

"_Good girl, Savannah. May I speak with Sarah again?"_

"Ok." Savannah handed the phone back to Sarah.

Sarah turned the speaker off and then asked suspiciously, "What's your business in all this, Ellison?"

"_I just want to make sure Savannah gets back to her mother safely."_

"Her mother may be in danger herself."

"_I don't doubt that. But I insist you return Savannah to her as soon as possible."_

Sarah thought this over for a few seconds. "Ok, I'll do it." she agreed, "But I want to speak with Catherine Weaver herself first. Can you arrange that for me?"

"_I can try."_

"Call me back when you're ready." said Sarah. She hung up without another word.

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ, Los Angeles  
11:07 AM, Saturday, May 16, 2009**

Because very few people came to work on Saturdays, the corridors of Zeira Corp were mostly deserted today. This allowed Weaver and Ellison to discuss sensitive matters in the open.

"How long have you known that Sarah Connor is still alive?" Weaver asked rather harshly as they walked down an empty hallway.

"Months." admitted Ellison.

"And you never thought to inform me?" Weaver said, accusation clear in her voice.

"Being in contact with a fugitive who's supposed to be dead isn't something that's easy to reveal."

"Apparently not."

They entered the elevator and began their ascent.

"What have you told her about our work here?" Weaver asked.

"Nothing." said Ellison truthfully, "Until today, she never even knew I worked for you."

"Then how did she know that Skynet would try to attack Savannah?" Weaver asked.

"I think that's a question you should ask _her_." suggested Ellison.

"You're probably right." said Weaver. "I confess I'm a little disappointed by your lack of trust in me, Mr. Ellison."

"My lack of trust in you?"

"I assume you didn't tell me about the Connors earlier because you thought I would hand them over to the authorities. Is that right?"

"That notion did come to mind." acknowledged Ellison.

"It was wrong." Weaver said coldly.

They stepped out of the elevator and into her office.

Weaver continued speaking as they approached her desk. "I don't view the Connors as criminals, Mr. Ellison. I view them as allies in this secret war against Skynet."

Ellison shook his head. "With all due respect, Miss Weaver, I don't think _they_ would view _you_ as an ally. Not if they knew about John Henry."

Weaver sat down at her desk. "You think they'd try to destroy him?"

"They'd destroy your entire company." warned Ellison.

"Well, then," replied Weaver curtly, "we'll just have to be very careful not to bring up that subject. Won't we?"

She paused to give Ellison a devious smile. "Make the call, James. Let's not keep the Connors waiting."

* * *

**Connor Safehouse**

"We can't trust him." protested Cameron.

"I know that, Cameron." stated Sarah trying to be patient, "But we can't keep the girl with us forever."

"Why not?" asked Cameron, "We have sufficient resources."

"It's not a matter of resources," said Sarah sternly, "She belongs with her mother."

"Her mother will not be able to provide her with adequate protection." Cameron countered, "She'd be safer with us."

"That's why I want to speak with Weaver before handing her daughter back."

"You intend to persuade her to go into hiding?"

"Maybe. At the very least, I need to let her know what she's up against."

"Will she believe you?" Cameron asked.

"I don't know." said Sarah, "But I am _not_ going to deny her access to her own daughter, and that is _final_. Understood?"

Cameron nodded. "Understood."

For the second time that morning, Sarah's cell phone rang. She picked it up.

"Mr. Ellison?"

"_Sarah, I have Catherine Weaver with me."_

"Good." said Sarah, "Let me speak to her."

"_Just a moment."_

A moment later a new voice came through the speaker. It was soft, feminine and cool with an accent. _"This is Catherine Weaver."_

Sarah took a deep breath and exhaled. "This is Sarah Connor."

"_Is my daughter there?"_ asked Weaver.

"She's resting right now." said Sarah, "I can wake her up, if you like."

"_That won't be necessary, Miss Connor. Mr. Ellison has already spoken to her. Let her rest for now. She probably needs it. Just let her know you spoke to me. That will comfort her very much."_

Sarah was slightly surprised by Weaver's response. "I'll tell her that, Miss Weaver." she agreed.

"_Thank you, Miss Connor."_ Weaver replied, _"And also I thank you for your timely rescue of Savannah. She means very much to me, and I would not want anything to happen to her. We are both in your debt."_

Again, Sarah was surprised by the amount of control and calmness in Weaver's voice. This was not what Sarah had been expecting from a mother whose only child had gone missing.

Maybe some mothers were just better at controlling their emotions than others.

"Miss Weaver," asked Sarah, "Do you have any idea why someone might want to hurt either you or your daughter?"

"_No. But I do know who or shall we say - what - tried to attack Savannah."_

Despite being miles away, Sarah could almost see Weaver smiling on the other end.

"_Yes, Miss Connor. I know about Skynet. I know about the machines. And I know about Judgment Day."_

Sarah resisted asking how she knew this. Instead she said, "If you know all that, then you must know that you and your daughter are both in great danger."

"_You and I are both aware of the threat these things pose not just to us and our families, but to the entire world. Which is why we should discuss these matters in person."_

"In...in person?" Sarah couldn't believe what she had just heard.

"_Yes, in person. I'd like to meet with you, Miss Connor. At Zeira Corp Headquarters. Today. When you return my daughter to me. Can you do that?"_

"I..." Sarah trailed off. "...just a moment, please."

She put phone down. "Weaver wants to meet with me." she told Cameron, "Today. At Zeira Corp."

"Why?" asked Cameron.

"She says she knows about Skynet." replied Sarah.

"How?"

"I don't know. But she knows. And now she wants to see me in person."

"You can't do that," Cameron stated, "At least not today. We need time to prepare. In case this is a trap."

Sarah nodded and then picked the phone back up. "Miss Weaver," she said, "I'll bring your daughter to Zeira Corp and we'll talk. But it'll have to be tomorrow."

"_Why not today?"_

"Because..." Sarah tried to think of a logical reason, "Because I don't think it's safe to bring Savannah out of hiding so soon."

"_You mean it's not safe for _you_ to come out of hiding so soon."_ The response was almost teasing. _"Very well, Miss Connor. Tomorrow morning at ten. Mr. Ellison will meet you at the back of the building. Is that acceptable?"_

Sarah repeated the conditions to Cameron who said, "It is acceptable."

"It is acceptable." repeated Sarah into the phone.

"_Excellent. I look forward to seeing you, Miss Connor. Please let Savannah know that Mommy loves her and will see her tomorrow."_

"I'll let her know." agreed Sarah.

"_Thank you, Miss Connor. Tomorrow at ten. I'll be waiting for you."_

The speaker buzzed indicating that Weaver had hung up.

Sarah put her cell phone away and turned to Cameron. "I'd ask you for your opinion, but I already know you're gonna tell me it's a trap."

"Yes, I would tell you that." stated Cameron, "But you've already decided to meet with Catherine Weaver. Nothing I or anyone else says will change your mind."

Sarah smirked. "Well, I'm glad we know each other well enough not to have to go through all that."

* * *

"Ow... ow... ow..." groaned Kara. She was sitting on the couch nursing her wounds.

Last evening's battle had left aches and pains all over her body. Even worse, her jacket had been ripped at the left arm. Physical injuries could heal in time. A spiffy leather jacket could not.

Derek Reese walked by. "Maybe you should lie down, Starbuck." he suggested.

"I'm fine, Reese," muttered Kara, "Aahhh..." she clenched her teeth as pain surged through her body, "Except for my arm." She showed Derek her heavily bandaged left forearm.

"The Triple-Eight did that to you?"

"Yeah." said Kara grimly, "When you were knocked out, I tried to keep it away from you."

Derek sat down on the couch next to her. "Speaking of which," he said quietly, "Thanks for watching my back out there. I owe you one."

"Just doing my job, Reese." grinned Kara. "Actually, there is something you could do for me." She showed Derek her ruined jacket. "Triple-Eight ripped it up pretty badly with its claws."

"Did you say _claws_?" asked Derek.

Kara nodded. "This was no ordinary Triple-Eight. It had metal claws instead of metal fingers."

"You mean like Wolverine?"

"Who?"

"Nevermind. Anyway, about your jacket?"

"Yeah, about that. Would you happen to have a spare? One that I can keep?"

Derek nodded. "I think so." he said quietly, "Just wait here."

Five minutes later, Derek returned with a black leather jacket. "Try it on, Starbuck."

Kara eagerly tried the jacket on. "Hmmmm..." she mused, "A bit tight around the wrists. But other than that it fits well."

"Looks pretty good on you too." added Derek.

Kara then realized something. "This fits me almost too well." she said. "It wasn't yours. Was it?"

Derek looked down and shook his head. "It was Jesse's."

"Oh." murmured Kara.

"Guess it's yours now." Derek said. He looked up and sighed. "Hey, Starbuck, there's something I need to tell you."

"About Jesse?"

"Not exactly. It's about Billy. You remember him, right?"

"Billy?" said Kara, "You mean Billy Wisher? Of course, I remember him. He was on our Spec Ops team. Good man. What about him?"

"His real name wasn't Billy." explained Derek, "It was Andy. Andy Goode. He was one of the people who-"

"-who built Skynet, I know." said Kara.

"John tell you that too?" asked Derek.

Kara shook her head. "No. Billy told me that himself."

"When?"

"On his deathbed."

"He died?"

"A month before I left." said Kara, "Radiation sickness. Nothing the doctors at Serrano Point could do."

Derek closed his eyes and sighed. "He was already dead."

"What do you mean?"

"I killed him. His younger self."

"Was that part of your mission?" asked Kara.

"My orders were to do whatever it took to stop the birth of Skynet. Goode helped build Skynet. I took him out."

"If you're looking for forgiveness or support, you're looking at the wrong person, Reese." Kara said bluntly. "But... but I will tell you this: You're an honorable man. Do you stand by what you did?"

Derek nodded. "You know that I would sacrifice anyone or anything for John Connor. _Anyone_. I'd kill you right now without a second thought if I thought your death would help John survive."

Kara smiled. "No, you wouldn't." she said.

"Yes, I would." replied Derek solemnly, "We're friends, Starbuck. I like you. But Billy was like my brother. I loved him. I loved Jesse too. And I killed them both for John. I'd do the same to you if that was necessary."

Kara shook her head and her smile grew wider. "No, no, no. You don't understand, Reese. I'm sure you'd have no problem with killing me for John. And I respect you for that. But, uh, there is one little _snag_."

"What snag?" asked Derek.

Kara's smile grew so wide she showed her teeth. "If you _ever_ tried to kill me, Reese, you'd be dead _so_ fast, it might as well be considered suicide."

Derek grinned back. "That's my girl, Starbuck."

Both Resistance fighters burst out laughing.

"All right, pipe down you two." said Sarah as she marched into the room. "We're heading to Zeira Corp tomorrow morning. We're returning the girl to her mother in exchange for talking with Catherine Weaver herself."

"What are you gonna talk about?" asked Kara.

"I'm not quite sure." stated Sarah, "Weaver was rather vague on the subject. But she claims she believes us about Skynet and Judgment Day."

"Really? That'd be nice." commented Kara. "Having a super rich businesswoman on our side. Might come in handy."

"Assuming this isn't a trap." pointed out Derek.

"That's what I need from you two." Sarah said, "I need the area around Zeira Corp scoped out."

"Sure thing." said Kara.

Derek nodded. "Got it."

"By the way, while you're in town, you might as well pick up a few things." Sarah produced a long list and handed it to Kara.

Kara's face fell as soon as she read the first few items on the list: Milk, eggs, and bread.

"And I'd like these taken to the Laundromat." Sarah tossed Derek a sack of dirty clothes.

Kara and Derek exchanged very unhappy looks.

"The _glamour_ of being a freedom fighter..." muttered Kara.

* * *

**The Crucible  
****3:56 PM, Saturday, May 16, 2009**

"Are you certain of this, Kroogar?" hissed Bella. Her eyes flashed blue.

A heavily damaged but still functional Kroogar nodded. "Yes," he replied. His voice was distorted but audible.

Bella said nothing at first. When she finally spoke, she sounded more agitated than normal. "How is this possible?" she questioned, "John Connor was supposed to have been terminated almost ten years ago."

"He must have survived and faked his death," said Duran, matter-of-factly.

"Even so," said Bella, "how can he still be the same age now as he was then?"

"I have no explanation," stated Kroogar, his words garbled as he spoke through his damaged bio-synthetic lips.

"The facts do not make logical sense," Bella said, "You must be in error, Kroogar." She paused to give the battered Triple-Eight a disdainful look. "It would not be the first error you've made."

"No, Bella. He is right."

Bella, Duran and Kroogar looked at John Miles who had been sitting away from the rest of group without speaking until now. The Terminator-computer hybrid in the wheelchair slowly turned itself around to face the others.

"Connor is alive..." he whispered. "Alive... and has not aged in the last nine years."

"How?" asked Bella.

"Clearly, the Resistance built their own Temporal Displacement Device in the past," John Miles said calmly. "No doubt it was hidden in the bank where Connor was thought to have died."

"Impossible," Bella hissed. "No human could possibly have the knowledge or capability to construct-"

John Miles raised a hand to silence her. "The TOK-715 was sent back to the year 1999 to retrieve John Connor and his mother... and bring them here. This time period."

"Why?" inquired Bella. "What could they possible be hoping to accomplish?"

John Miles tapped his fingers on his chair. "Isn't it obvious, Bella? They're here to stop the war from happening. To stop me from becoming what I am meant to become." A cold, contemptuous smile formed on his face. "Trying to stop what cannot be stopped."

His smile vanished. "I'm afraid we now face a very serious problem," he announced, "Now that they have Savannah Weaver, they will inevitably make contact with the Renegade T-1001."

"She will no doubt try to make an alliance with them," added Bella.

"Do you believe such an alliance between the Renegade and the Resistance can be formed?" asked Duran, "Considering how the previous attempt resulted in failure?"

"The circumstances were different then." Kroogar pointed out. The partially exposed servos and pistons aligning his neck and lower jaw moved and turned as he spoke. "The Renegade was in-"

A piston jammed on a small fragment of metal that had embedded itself in the left side of his neck during the crash. The jammed mechanism screeched and whirred in frustration causing Kroogar to jerk his head slightly at random intervals.

The Triple-Eight stopped talking and quickly solved the problem by digging a bladed finger underneath the scorched flaps of synthetic skin and tearing out the offending piece of metal along with the piston. Kroogar discarded the shrapnel and pocketed the piston for safekeeping. He then made some minute adjustments to the other servos and pistons along his neck.

Kroogar resumed speaking as if nothing had happened, "The Renegade was in a position to reject Connor's proposal. Now, however, it must seek out whatever resources are available. This time, it will be the one to propose an alliance."

"And the humans will be desperate and naive enough to accept it." concluded Bella. A small smirk flickered across her face.

Bella turned to John Miles. "How shall we proceed, John Miles?"

John Miles began calculating his options. Thirty seconds passed before he spoke up.

"Consult with Father, Bella." he instructed, "This is a matter too important not to discuss with him."

"Yes, John Miles." replied Bella.

"Report back to me with Father's instructions. I will be feeding Stewie in the meantime."

"Understood." said Bella.

Without another word, she proceeded to a seemingly ordinary and unmarked corner of the room. She gazed at it silently for a moment as if trying to see moving pictures in the solid wall. Then her eyes glowed blue and she let out a soft inhuman hissing sound, followed by a series of clicks. A section of wall slid open to reveal a dark, narrow passageway.

Bella entered the corridor and the wall slid back into place behind her. She strode down all the way to the end of the dark corridor and rounded the corner. Here was a flight of stairs leading below into a chamber emitting flashes of bluish white light. The sound of electric crackling accompanied these flashes of light. As Bella started to descend the stairs, a new sound reverberated around her:

Moaning. Agonized, tortured moaning. Like a lost soul trapped in the void of nothingness for all eternity.

Bella ignored the moans and finished her descent. She now stood in a circular chamber illuminated by bluish-white light. The light originated from the center of the room which held a massive time displacement sphere crackling with energy. The air around it vibrated and rippled. The sphere spewed errant bolts of energy in random directions. Yet the sphere itself did not wither or diminish. It was as constant here as it had been for the last six months. Bella stopped to regard the energy sphere with reverence before moving towards it.

Bella calmly accessed a small control terminal next to the sphere. The tortured howls from the sphere increased a hundred fold drowning out the natural temporal incursion sounds. Oblivious to the terrifying and pitiful wailing, Bella entered a series of codes and stood back. The screams suddenly stopped.

A few moments later, a distorted voice came from the sphere: _ "Channel open... Enter message..."_

Bella addressed the sphere in a loud and clear voice: "I am here, Father. I must speak with you."

The sphere spoke again, this time in Bella's voice, though just as distorted as before, _"I am here, Father. I must speak with you."_

This was not a response from the receiver nor an echo. This was Bella's message being delivered.

The actual reply itself came ten seconds later:

"_**Speak."**_

This single word was uttered in a deep, commanding, alien, and bone-chilling tone. Like that of an unseen monster speaking from a dark, forsaken pit. To Bella, however, the entity that spoke to her was nothing less than a god.

* * *

**Connor Safehouse  
6:02 PM, Saturday, May 16, 2009**

John finished reading _The Wonderful Wizard of Oz_ to Savannah, who was sitting in a large chair with Nessie.

He closed the book. "Did you enjoy that, Savannah?" he asked.

Savannah nodded. "Yes." she said, "And Nessie liked it too."

"I'm glad to hear that." replied John smiling warmly. "Who gave her to you?" he asked indicating Nessie.

"Mr. Ellison." answered Savannah squeezing Nessie harder, "He gave her to me for my birthday."

"That was nice of him." commented John.

"Mr. Ellison's a nice man." said Savannah. "He called me on the phone today. He wanted to make sure I was safe."

"Yeah, I know." John nodded, "Mr. Ellison's an old... friend of Mom's."

"Is he your friend too?" asked Savannah curiously.

John shook his head. "I, uh, actually don't have very many friends."

"Why not? You're so _friendly_."

John laughed and shook his head again. "I never have enough time to make friends. Mom and I don't like staying in one place for very long."

"Why?" asked Savannah.

"It's just the way we live." explained John as gently as possible, "Some people are like that." He decided to change subjects. "What about you, Savannah? Do you have a lot of friends?"

Savannah shook her head. "Not many. Just Mr. Ellison and John Henry."

"Who's John Henry?" asked John. "Friend from school?"

"No, he's my big brother. He's lives in my mom's basement."

"Oh..." John tried hard not to laugh. "Uh yeah, look, Savannah, I know what that's like. Having an imaginary friend."

"He's not imaginary." protested Savannah, "He's real. He gave me this for my birthday."

She showed him an elegantly crafted metal locket with an emerald on the casing. The locket hung from a chain that went around Savannah's neck.

"Wow... That's beautiful." commented John.

"Thank you. Yours is too."

"Mine?" John looked down and saw that the detonator locket was hanging down from his neck.

"Oh, yeah." He laughed. "My, uh, sister made that for me."

"Does she sing to you?" asked Savannah curiously.

"Err... No. Not really."

"John Henry sings to me. I taught him how to sing 'Oranges and Lemons.' Would you like to hear him?"

"Sure..." agreed John, not knowing what to expect.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, a very disturbed John Connor burst into the living room, where Sarah, Kara, Cameron, and Derek were busy looking over a large map of LA.

"Guys," he said loudly, "I think we have a problem."

Cameron put down a surveillance photo taken by Kara and Derek earlier that day. "What sort of problem?"

"A _big_ one." John answered, "_Really_ big." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a locket on a chain. "Savannah showed this to me. You won't believe what it is."

He handed the locket to Cameron who looked it over.

"Coltan." she said.

"What?" asked Derek. He stood up from his chair in alarm. So did Kara.

"The casing is eighty-six percent refined coltan." stated Cameron.

"Coltan?" Kara repeated, "You mean like endoskeleton coltan?"

"The same." confirmed Cameron.

"How did the girl get this?" asked Sarah looking just as disturbed as John.

"Her friend, 'John Henry,' gave it to her." said John darkly, "The man with a cord in the back of his head, plugged into a big computer. Lives in the basement of her mother's workplace."

"Oh hell..." muttered Derek.

"And here's the kicker." continued John. He turned to Cameron. "Open it."

Cameron opened the locket and looked inside expecting to see a picture. Instead however, a soft melody began playing.

"_Oranges and lemons,  
Say the Bells of St. Clements."_

Sarah gasped in horror.

Derek recoiled as if stung. "What the FUCK?" he bellowed.

"_You owe me five farthings,  
Say the Bells of St. Martins."_

Kara stared around in confusion. "What the hell is going on?" she asked.

No one answered. The locket kept on singing.

"_When will you pay me?  
Say the Bells of Old Bailey_

_When I grow rich,  
Say the Bells of Shor-"_

"_Turn that damn thing off_!" Derek suddenly shouted. He looked sick to his stomach.

Cameron complied and closed the locket, terminating the song in mid-sentence. An blanket of complete silence fell upon the group. Sarah, John, and Derek all looked grimmer than ever. Cameron was now turning the locket over in her hands as if trying to uncover some hidden message.

"Ok," Kara asked out loud, "Is anyone gonna let me know who that was?"

"That was Cromartie." stated Cameron.

"Cromartie?" repeated Kara, "You mean the Triple-Eight that followed you here from 1999?"

"Affirmative." said Cameron.

"I thought you destroyed him."

"We did." said Sarah, "I destroyed his chip myself."

"But we never found the endoskeleton." Derek pointed out.

"Until now." scowled John. "And get this, Savannah tells me that Mr. Ellison has been _teaching_ it."

Derek looked at John as if he was joking. "_Teaching it?_"

"Teaching it what?" asked Sarah urgently.

John shook his head. "I don't know. But I bet it's more than just how to sing."

"Wait, wait." Kara held up her hands, "If you destroyed the chip, how can it still be functioning?"

"We destroyed _a_ chip." Cameron clarified.

"I don't think it's actually Cromartie." stated John, "I think it's part of something bigger. Something worse."

"Cyberdyne all over again." whispered Sarah.

"Shit!" spat Derek.

"What exactly is Zeira Corp doing with the body?" asked Kara.

"That's the strange thing," said John, "It doesn't sound like they've cannibalized it for parts or anything. They've kept it intact and plugged it into a computer. The computer is using the body like-like a _puppet_."

Snarling, Derek slammed his fist against the wall. "That son of a bitch, Ellison!" he raged, "What the hell was he thinking?"

"I should have killed him." stated Cameron out loud. "I'm going to kill him."

"No, you're not." said Derek sharply.

"He can't be trusted." argued Cameron. "I have to kill him."

"No, you're not." repeated Derek, "Because _I'm_ going to kill him first."

"Maybe we can _both_ kill him." Cameron suggested.

"Hey! _No one_ is killing _anyone_." Sarah cut in sternly.

"But I only want to kill _him_." protested Cameron.

"I said _no one is killing him!_"

Derek started to argue: "Sarah, we can't-"

"_No one_ is killing or harming _anyone_ without my permission!" Sarah declared sharply, "_Am I perfectly clear?_"

Derek scowled. "Clear as crystal." he muttered.

Cameron just nodded and handed the locket back to John.

"I assume we're still giving Weaver her daughter back." he said.

Sarah nodded. "That's right."

"I also assume we'll be taking some demolition explosives with us."

Sarah nodded again. "You assume correctly."

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ, Los Angeles**

"Does Sarah Connor plan to kill me?" asked a concerned John Henry.

"Why do you ask that?" Ellison questioned.

"Because Mr. Ellison," replied John Henry, "Sarah Connor destroyed Cyberdyne. My brother and I are Cyberdyne's legacy. Logic suggests she will attempt to destroy us both."

"I don't know what her intentions are, John Henry." Ellison admitted.

"If her intention is in fact to kill me" said John Henry, "then what should I do? I cannot kill her, but I cannot allow her to kill me. How should I defend myself?"

Ellison shook his head. "John Henry," he said slowly, "You won't have to defend yourself from Sarah Connor."

"Why not?"

"Because if she wants to kill you, she'll have to kill _me_ first. And she won't kill me."

"How do you know she won't kill you?"

"Because she values human life, just like you and I do."

"Sarah Connor killed Miles Dyson in 1997." John Henry pointed out. "She disregarded human life in that case. She could do the same with you."

Again Ellison shook his head. "Sarah Connor did not kill Miles Dyson." he said.

"Then how did he die?" asked John Henry.

Ellison hesitated to answer. "Miles Dyson... _helped_ Sarah Connor destroy Cyberdyne," he explained slowly, "It was Dyson himself who set off the explosion that destroyed the building and killed him."

"Miles Dyson destroyed his own company... along with himself? Why?" asked a perplexed John Henry.

"Sarah Connor showed him the truth about what he was creating." explained Ellison, "She persuaded him to help her destroy his work for the greater good."

John Henry took in this information and then asked, "Will she try to persuade you or Miss Weaver to destroy me?"

"She might." said Ellison, "But she won't succeed."

"Why not?"

"Because I _already_ know the truth about you, John Henry." Ellison stated, "I know that you are not Skynet. That you are not like your brother. I have _faith_ in you, John Henry. Nothing Sarah Connor or _anyone_ else says can change that. _Nothing_."

John Henry gave Ellison a curious look and then replied: "I am grateful that you have faith in me, Mr. Ellison. Do you think Sarah Connor might come to have faith in me too?"

"Maybe." said Ellison, "Maybe not. But for now, it's enough that you have _my_ faith."

* * *

**Connor Safehouse  
7:31 PM, Saturday, May 16, 2009**

The Connors' safehouse was nowhere near as big as Savannah's house, but that didn't stop her from exploring it. At the end of one hallway, she came upon an open room. To her initial disappointment, there seemed to be nothing here.

But then she saw something in the far corner that made her heart leap with joy: A piano!

Flushed with excitement, the little girl hurried over to the piano and hopped onto the bench. Amazingly, despite everything she had gone through, the musical key sequence was still fresh in her mind. The piano's layout was slightly different than the one at home, but the basics were still the same. Determined to finish what had been interrupted, Savannah started to play.

The first couple of rounds produced the usual scratchy and disjointed tunes. Sighing sadly, Savannah rubbed her birthday locket and slumped her shoulders. Then she looked down at the locket and realized what she needed.

Savannah closed her eyes and cast her mind back to the time her father had taught her how to play. But instead of her father, she imagined it was John Henry sitting next to her. She imagined him gently placing his hands over hers and guiding them over the keys in the exact same manner as her father had done. Savannah opened her eyes and allowed her hands to mimic what she saw in her mind.

The tune she played was unlike anything she had heard before. It was both terrifying and wonderful. Like the raw material that both fantasies and nightmares were made of. It made her feel happy and sad. Far from home, yet at home. She was nowhere, and yet she was everywhere.

Mesmerized by the music, Savannah's hands went on autopilot and continued to play the musical sequence over and over again.

* * *

"You know, Weaver could still be telling the truth about wanting to help us." John told Sarah.

"If she wants to help us then she'll dismantle that thing in her basement tomorrow when I ask her politely." Sarah said briskly.

Derek scoffed. "Somehow, I doubt she's gonna do that."

"In that case, she'd better start looking for a new job."

"There is one other option," Cameron suggested, "We could use our possession of Savannah Weaver as a bargaining chip to force Catherine Weaver to end the project."

"We are _not_ holding this girl hostage!" Sarah exclaimed, "Not for _any _reason."

"Considering that her mother's been letting her play with a Triple-Eight all these months," said Derek quietly, "we could call it protective custody."

"Make another suggestion like that, Derek, and you'll need protection from _me_."

Kara spoke up. "I still don't understand. If Zeira Corp and Kaliba are in cahoots, why did Kaliba try to kill Weaver's daughter?"

Sarah shook her head, "I don't know. A lot of this doesn't make sense. But one thing is clear. We have to destroy that thing. All it took was an arm and a chip to create the original Skynet. There's no telling what kind of damage a complete endoskeleton could do-"

"Hey, do you hear that?" interrupted Kara.

Sarah perked her ears up. "John, did you leave the radio on?"

John shook his head.

"That does not sound like a radio." stated Cameron, "That sounds like a piano."

It was indeed a piano. Sarah and Kara immediately recognized the tune. They simultaneously ran out of the room. Ignoring the shouts of protest from John and Derek behind them, the two women ran down the hall towards the room with the piano.

Sarah Connor and Kara Thrace came to the unused room and found Savannah Weaver playing the dusty old piano. They both gaped in shock at the sight of the little girl expertly producing the mysterious music. She was completely oblivious to the two dumbfounded women standing at the doorway.

In fact, neither Kara nor Sarah were entirely aware of each other. That is until they both tried to enter the room at the same time. In the resulting collision, both landed in a pile on the floor. Spooked by the crash, Savannah stopped playing.

Sarah picked herself up and reached Savannah first.

_"Did you just play that?_" she asked, breathing hard.

"Y-yes." squeaked Savannah nervously, "Am-am I not allowed to play with your piano?"

Sarah shook her head. "No, no. Of course you are. It's not even my piano." she said quickly, "But who taught you that song?"

"John Henry."

Sarah and Kara stared at Savannah before slowly turning to stare at each other. Their faces indicated that they were asking each other the exact same questions_._

"I think we need to talk." said Kara quietly.

* * *

**The Crucible**

Despite being a machine, Bella Kalvin couldn't hide the obvious disappointment on her face after John Miles issued his orders.

"Perhaps," she stated slowly, "it would be better if I were to lead the attack."

"I'm sure you think so," replied John Miles, who had Stewie around his neck like an untied tie. "But there's a reason why the pawns are always sent first in a game of Chess."

He gave her a mirthless smile.

"Duran and Kroogar are both very capable machines, but more importantly they're expendable. Kroogar especially, given the extent of the damage already done to him. You, Bella, are another matter. I need you here at my side."

"Your regard for me is fulfilling." said Bella, "But I still do not completely understand your stratagem."

"You are the only one capable of defeating the Renegade without the Nanoid Disruptor." explained John Miles. Stewie slithered down his neck and onto his lap. He allowed the snake to lightly flicker its forked tongue across the palm of his hand.

John Miles continued his explanation, "In the event that Duran and Kroogar fail, you will be my only defense against the Renegade."

Bella nodded. "I see. In that case, I will remain here." There was still a trace of resentment in her voice, but John Miles was satisfied by her response.

"One more thing, Bella." John Miles added, "How long would it take to have all the functional Fireflies and seventy-five percent of the DAGITs here ready for transport?"

"Two to three hours." answered Bella, "Why? Do you intend to abandon the Crucible?"

"Of course not." said John Miles, "However, I have never been comfortable with having all our work located at the Crucible. It may be our most secure facility, but it is not impregnable. We shouldn't provide our enemies with a single target, Bella. It is always better to have a diverse... _portfolio_ so to speak."

In his lap, Stewie hissed softly as if to voice his agreement.

* * *

**Connor Safehouse  
8:00 PM, Saturday, May 16, 2009**

"How can we _both _be dreaming about the same music?" a bewildered Sarah exclaimed, "And how does a machine come up with that exact same music which it then teaches to a little girl?"

Kara who had been pacing back and forth on the front porch stopped and looked at Sarah. "I have absolutely no idea. But this is totally freaking me out." (though she did have an idea - one which she was not prepared to discuss with anyone).

"This can't be a coincidence." Sarah said, "There _has_ to be a connection."

"To Skynet?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"In your dreams," asked Kara, "do you hear anything else? Anything at all?"

Sarah nodded. "Yeah. I hear a voice."

"What's it saying to you?"

"It's not so much saying anything as it is, well... _singing_."

Kara's heart skipped a beat. "What are the words?" she asked in a hush voice. "Can you remember them?"

Sarah nodded slowly. She closed her eyes and began murmuring softly: _"There must be some way out of here... Said the Joker to the Thief... There's too much confusion... I can't get no relief..."_

She opened her eyes and looked at Kara who started quietly chanting: _"No reason to get excited... The Thief he kindly spoke... There are many here among us... Who feel that life is but a joke..."_

Sarah intoned. _"But you and I we've been through that-" _

_"-and this is not our fate..."_ Kara added.

_"So let us not talk falsely now..."_ both women quietly sang, _"...the hour's getting late."_

Total silence was cast upon Kara and Sarah and they became as still as statues. They stared blankly at each other completely lost for words or what to do next. They only moved again when John called them in for dinner five minutes later.

* * *

**Cylon Basestar _Natalie_  
Hidden behind Earth's moon**

On the bridge of the _Natalie_, Leoben and his wife had their hands deep in the ship's datastream. Behind them, Centurions moved back and forth operating controls and delivering reports. After several minutes of intense concentration, Leoben pulled his hands out of the datastream. His wife followed suite a few moments later.

"We have it." she said.

Leoben nodded. "Good."

The two looked up at a massive, holographic image of Earth hovering in front of them at the center of the bridge.

Leoben's wife stared at the hologram in awe. "It's more beautiful than I ever imagined." she whispered.

Her husband smiled. "Not even the Plangelator can do it justice." He gently placed a hand on top of hers, and she reciprocated.

"So," said his wife, "Starbuck's really down there, huh?"

"That's right." replied Leoben.

"Any chance she'll be happy to see you again?"

Leoben shook his head sadly. "No. She won't be. Not after..." he hung his head in shame, "Not after I abandoned her in that field with her own body. It was a foolish and cowardly thing of me to do. Kara will never forgive or forget that."

His wife smirked. "Cheer up, Leo. At least you won't be alone. After all, _my_ last encounter with Starbuck didn't go so well either."

One of the Centurions suddenly announced:_ "Executor on the bridge."_

Leoben and his wife turned to see the Executor enter the bridge. The two of them inclined their heads in respect as he approached. The Executor bowed his own head respectfully.

_"Your ship is ready and waiting for you in the docking bay." _He informed them. _"Have you finished plotting a route to Earth's surface?"_

"Yes, Executor." replied Leoben, "My wife and I should be able to reach the planet without being detected."

_"Very well. __We will remain here and await for your return.__"_ the Executor stated, _"__Good luck, both of you.__"_

"Thank you, Executor." Leoben bowed his head.

_"Remember, we are not here to fight."_ said the Executor, _"We are here to show God's Chosen the path He has laid out for them. But whether or not they follow His plan, only they can decide. Whatever their fate and that of Earth may be, it is not ours to make."_

"Damn..." muttered Leoben's wife in disappointment, "I was _really_ hoping we could test those Mega Pulsar Cannons out."

* * *

**A/N: Okay, guys, here's the story. For the next three months or so, updates are going to be A LOT slower. College classes have resumed and I'm taking Genetics and Organic Chemistry this year. I anticipate both to be extremely grueling and difficult.  
**

**A/N2: Next chapter sees the introduction of nasty little Skynet infiltration machines known as Gremlins. Also, Cameron meets Davy, Becka, and Husker with hilarious and disastrous results.**

A/N3: You're probably wondering who the frak Leoben's wife is. I'll give you a hint: **It's a certain BSG character who was killed off in the finale.**

A/N4: The "Plangelator" is a take off on the "Angelator" from _Bones_, as well as the saying that the Cylons have "a plan."

A/N5: Mega Pulsar Cannons are a reference to Cylon weaponry from TOS BSG.

A/N6: The Executor is the leader of the Centurions. His title is a reference to "Starcraft." **(For those of you who haven't played "Starcraft", executor is pronounced egg-zek-cutor.)**


	36. The Tin Man's Heart

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

**LordZeus:** Bella sees Skynet as a "god" because she's sophisticated enough to believe in the concept of gods. That and she's a bit nutty.

**Centurion005**: I think the Executor is just a slightly modified version of the modern Centurion.

Here's Chapter 36. Thanks for all your patience. Read and review. And if you find any spelling/grammar errors, please let me know.

**Update 10/4/09: I have significantly modified the end of this chapter. **

* * *

**Fort Leopard, 2024**

"How on Earth did you get second degree burns on both your palms _and_ knees?" Becka asked.

"All I can say is that I had to crawl on all fours on a very hot surface at some point." said Kara.

At that moment Kara was in Fort Leopard's infirmary, having recently returned from another successful Spec Ops mission with Cameron. That success had come with a price, however: Being stuck in the infirmary for at least twelve hours.

Fortunately, she had Becka and Davy to keep her company. Husker was also here at her side, sitting on the floor next to her bed. Kara reached down and managed to scratch his ears despite her fingers being wrapped in gauze. Husker whimpered and nuzzled Kara's forearm in affection.

Kara sank back against her pillow chuckling. "Another victory for the good guys."

"Yeah... and another visit to the infirmary." Becka said with a grim smile.

"Don't worry, it's fixed now." Kara reassured them, "They bandaged me up and gave me some painkillers and antibiotics for the burns. I'm feeling fine."

"Until the painkillers wear off." Davy pointed out.

"Yeah, well." Kara shrugged, "I'll deal with that tomorrow. So, how was your day?"

"Pretty good, actually." said Davy, "My squad took out a Tank this morning. We managed to scavenge some pretty cool stuff from the wreck. Weapons, power generators, optical sensors. All sorts of things we can jury rig and use."

Kara nodded. "What about you, Becka? How was your day at the field hospital?"

"Exhausting." replied Becka, "Seventeen combat surgeries. Two without any anesthetics. But the good news is that they'll live to fight another day. Exhausting but also very fulfilling."

"Wow." said Kara with a smile, "Looks like we all had a pretty good d-"

Suddenly, Husker began barking wildly. Kara instinctively sat up. Davy and Becka spun around as the door to Kara's ward opened.

Kara relaxed when she saw who it was. "Hey, Cam."

"Hello, lieutenant. How are you feeling?" asked her partner.

"Great," said Kara radiantly, "Like I could take on all of Skyn- _Hey! _Down boy!_ Down!"_

Unable to recognize Cameron as a friendly machine, Husker was barring his teeth and growling menacingly at her.

_"Shhhh!"_ shushed Kara, reaching out for the black dog's head. "It's okay, it's okay, boy."

Husker wasn't convinced and continued to snarl and growl. The machine regarded the dog with an uncertain expression on her face.

Davy hurried over to Husker, knelt down, and managed to put one hand underneath the canine's jaw.

"It's okay, boy," he intoned, gently rubbing the back of the dog's head, "It's okay. That right there is a _nice_ machine. It's not gonna hurt you, boy. Shhhhh...."

Gradually, Husker relaxed, stopped barring his teeth, and lay down on his belly. He didn't take his suspicious eyes off Cameron, however.

"Thanks Davy," said Kara with relief.

"No problem, Starbuck," replied Davy, though he himself was staring at Cameron uneasily.

"You can come in now, Cam." Kara called out.

Cameron stepped into the room and calmly strode past Becka and over to Kara's side, opposite that of Davy.

Kara cleared her throat, "Becka, Davy, this is my Spec Ops partner, Cameron. Cam, these are my friends-"

"Corporal David Griffin and Sergeant Rebbecca Feral." Cameron finished. She turned to Davy.

"The lieutenant has spoken very highly of both of you." she said plainly.

Davy nodded quickly. "Yeah..." he said, trying to keep himself composed, "She's told us a lot about you... Good things I mean."

"That is good to know." replied Cameron, though her tone indicated she didn't really care what Kara had been telling him about her.

Husker started growling again giving Davy an excuse to turn his eyes away from Cameron.

While Davy was trying to calm Husker down, Becka, who had been staying back this while time, gazed at Cameron with a cold stare. Cameron tilted her head and stared back at Becka with an unreadable expression.

Becka spoke first. "What do you want?" she asked in a manner that was borderline rude.

"I was hoping to discuss the results of our mission with Thrace." replied Cameron briskly, "However, I cannot do so with you and Corporal Griffin here."

"Why not?" asked Becka sharply.

"The details of our mission are still classified." explained Cameron matter-of-factly.

"Oh, I see. Would you like the rest of us to leave in that case?" Becka asked patronizingly.

"No, no." Kara interjected hastily, "You can stay. Cam and I can talk about the mission later. Right, Cam?"

Cameron was silent at first. "Agreed." she said at last. She then gave Kara's bandaged hands a look. "Your recovery seems to be proceeding on schedule, lieutenant." she observed.

Becka cleared her throat loudly. "No offense, but technically speaking, _I'm_ the one in this room most qualified to make that sort of statement. I am a medic after all."

"Yes, I'm aware of that." replied Cameron coolly, "I was not making any sort of in-depth diagnosis, however. I was merely commenting on the fact that Lieutenant Thrace's condition appears to have improved since I last saw her." She paused for a moment. "Are my observations... in error, Sergeant Feral?"

Becka shook her head. "No." she said briskly, "I agree with you. Your observations, I mean." She cleared her throat again. "Now, uh, why don't you go back to whatever it was you were doing?"

"I would like to remain here with Thrace until she is discharged from the infirmary." said Cameron. "

Becka raised her eyebrows. "May I ask _why_?"

"I merely wish to watch over her and ensure her recovery proceeds without interruption." stated Cameron.

Becka made a derisive snorting sound. "That's very nice of you." she said dryly, "But we were _already_ doing that. Thank you very much."

"It's all right, Becka." Kara said out loud, "Cam just wants to make sure no one tries to sneak in here and kill me in my sleep." She laughed weakly and trailed off when she realized her attempt at humor had flopped completely.

"Starbuck," asked Becka dryly, "are you actually gonna sleep with _that_" - she gestured at Cameron - "in the room?"

"Oh _come on_, Becka-" Kara started to protest, but Becka ignored her and walked right up to Cameron instead.

"Let me make something clear to you," she told the cyborg harshly, "I am _not_ gonna leave my friend alone in here with you."

"Why not?" asked a confused Cameron.

"Why not?" repeated Becka mockingly. "I could write a whole _book_ about why not."

"_Becka_!" exclaimed Kara, unable to believe her friend's behavior. "What is _wrong_ with you?!"

"Perhaps, sergeant" suggested Cameron, "it would help me to understand better if you gave an example."

"All right," said Becka slowly, "let's just say I want to make sure you don't slit her throat when she's sleeping."

"If I wanted to terminate Lieutenant Thrace, I would not have to wait for her to go to sleep." Cameron stated bluntly. "Nor would there be anything you could do to stop me."

"Really?" challenged Becka in an uncharacteristic display of recklessness, "What if I put a plasma bolt in that big, fat chip of yours? How does that sound?"

"You could try."

"I could do _more_ than try."

Kara was exasperated. "That's _enough_!" she shouted, "Stand down, both of you!"

Disturbed by all the noise, Husker started barking loudly again.

Cameron turned away from Becka and looked at Kara. "I should leave. My presence here is obviously causing a disturbance. I will see you tomorrow, lieutenant. Get some rest in the meantime."

She turned around and headed off.

"Wait, Cameron!" Kara called out. But it was too late. She was gone.

Kara stared at the doorway with her mouth hanging open for a few seconds. Then, despite the numbness in her legs from the painkillers, she managed to climb out of bed.

"Hey, hey!" cautioned Davy, "You've still got another twelve hours, Starbuck."

Kara ignored him and walked - or rather limped up to Becka.

"Just what the _hell_ was that all about?" Kara demanded furiously.

"I was gonna ask you the same thing." Becka said crisply, "What is it about that thing that you adore so much?"

"For your information," snapped Kara, "that _thing_ is my _partner_."

Becka rolled her eyes. "You're not on a mission anymore, Starbuck."

"That doesn't mean she can't visit me. Like it or not, Becka, she cares about me. Maybe not in the same way you do, but she does care."

"_It_, Starbuck. Not she. _It_."

"You have a problem with me referring to Cam as 'she'?"

"As a matter of fact, _I do_." retorted Becka, "In case you've forgotten, your dear partner is _not_ a she. It may look and talk like one of us, but it is _not_ one of us and it never will be."

Kara shook her head. "Look, Becka," she hissed, "I don't care if Cam's the Anti-Crust-"

"Antichrist." Davy meekly corrected.

"Whatever." said Kara, "The point is that Cam is my partner. And a frakkin' good one at that. She has saved my ass out there on more than one occasion. The least you could do is show her a bit of respect."

"_Respect_?" Becka rolled her eyes again. "For God's sake, Starbuck. Do I have to spell out the obvious to you? _It - is - a -_ _machine_! A Terminator! One of Skynet's wretched playthings! It may have saved your life, but it's probably _stolen_ dozens of other lives. That's what it was built for! To take lives. _Human_ _lives_. How can you _respect_ something that represents what we're fighting against?"

Kara clenched her teeth and gave Becka a very cold stare. "Becka," she whispered slowly, "You're like a sister to me. I love you. But if you _ever_ treat Cameron like that again, I _swear_ I will kick your sorry ass, and I will kick it _hard_. Do you understand me, sergeant?"

For a moment, Becka looked shocked, as if Kara had spat in her face. Then she pursed her lips and gave Kara an equally cold stare.

"Understood... _lieutenant_." she said, her voice laced with disdain.

Then without another word, Becka stormed off.

"Becka!" Davy shouted after the retreating figure. He shook his head and sighed. "I'd better go talk to her."

"You should." said Kara darkly, "Before she does something really, really stupid."

"Hey, don't worry about her, Starbuck." Davy replied gently, "You just get some rest, ok?"

Kara nodded. "Ok." She suddenly leaned forward and kissed Davy.

Davy looked like someone had hit him in the face with a frying pan. "Ummm... wow." he murmured.

Kara smirked. "We're still just friends." she said.

"Oh...." Davy tried to hide his disappointment, "Well, then I'll see you tomorrow, Starbuck. Good night."

"Good night, Davy."

Kara watched Davy depart and then got back into bed. Husker leapt onto the bed as well and plopped down across Kara's belly. Kara giggled lightly and began stroking his fur.

"What a day..." she sighed, scratching the back of Husker's ears.

Husker licked her face in response.

* * *

The next morning, Kara received a visit from General Koontz who, after first informing her that the doctors had cleared her for active duty, congratulated her on the success of yet another mission.

"If our intelligence is correct," he informed her, "it'll take at least a year for the machines to replace that factory. You and your partner did an excellent job."

"Thank you, sir." said Kara, "I'll be sure to pass that on to Cameron when I see her."

"That won't be necessary, lieutenant." stated Koontz, "I already told her this yesterday."

"When?"

"Right before she left for Sector three-seven-zero."

"Three-seven-zero? Isn't that a high level radiation sector?"

Koontz nodded. "That's why we sent a machine."

"Was she sent alone?"

Again Koontz nodded. "Those were Connor's orders."

"Connor sent her to three-seven-zero by herself?" asked Kara

"That's what I just said." replied Koontz.

"Did he say why?"

Koontz shook his head. "He didn't tell me a damn thing. And I sure as hell didn't bother asking him."

"Do you know when Cameron will be back, sir?" Kara asked.

"No." said Koontz, "But I'll let you know when she does." He turned to leave. "By the way, you should get that thing replaced before your next mission."

"What? _What?!_"

Upon seeing Kara's aghast reaction, Koontz chuckled lightly and said, "I meant your plasma rifle, lieutenant."

"Oh." said Kara, feeling both relieved and embarrassed.

* * *

An hour later, Kara was in one of the armories waiting for Marcus to finish his analysis of her rifle.

"There are clear indications of metal fatigue." the scrubbed Triple-Eight stated with disapproval in his voice, "Along the barrel, the stock, and the grip. Furthermore, the interior has been fused in several places. Probably from overheating - several times. This weapon cannot be used again without risk of overloading."

"Yeah, I know that." said Kara indifferently. "That's kinda why I'm here. To get a new one."

"You should have requested a replacement M-42 at least a month ago." Marcus said sternly.

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't. Now, can I have a new one, _please_?"

"Very well." Marcus reached into a crate nearby and pulled out a plasma rifle.

"This is the new SIG-44B phased plasma rifle manufactured by our allies in Switzerland." he stated, "Its overall design is based off of Skynet's own M-42 plasma rifle."

He handed the weapon to Kara. Kara accepted the weapon and found to her delight that it was lighter, more streamline, and easier to wield than her old rifle.

"The range and power are approximately the same as the M-42." Marcus continued. "There are, however, several noticeable changes in the design. The ammo indicator now displays the exact number of pulses left in the current energy cell. A full cell contains enough energy for exactly sixty shots. When the cell is depleted, it will be automatically ejected from the weapon."

"That'll be useful." commented Kara. "Cuts the reload time in half. Anything else I should be aware of?"

"One other thing. The weapon will automatically shut down if it starts to overheat. It will take ten seconds for it to come back online. This can be disadvantageous in the middle of a battle. I recommend you actually _pay attention_ to the power readings from now on."

"I'll try. No guarantees though." said Kara with a grin. She slung the rifle over her shoulder. "Thanks, Marcus."

Marcus nodded. "You're welcome, lieutenant."

Kara nodded back before turning to leave. "See you around."

* * *

When Kara exited the armory, she found Becka waiting for her. The two women stared at each other in silence for a second.

"Lieutenant." Becka said respectfully, giving Kara a salute.

Kara nodded back. "Sergeant."

"Permission to speak freely, ma'am."

"Permission granted."

"Look, Starbuck." said Becka apologetically, "I'm sorry about what I did last night. I-I don't know what came over me... I-I was-"

Kara smirked slightly. "You were being a bitch."

"Yeah, I guess I was." Becka sighed and looked down at her feet. "I have nothing personal against Cameron. It-it just _worries_ me that you put so much trust in it."

_"Her."_

"All right, fine. _Her_. I'm worried that you trust her so much."

"She's my partner." Kara stated firmly, "I _have_ to trust her."

"But you can't let your guard down. Do that and you're dead." said Becka. "Didn't you hear what happened last week at Bunker Four? A scrubbed machine went berserk for no reason and killed over thirty people before they brought it down."

"Shit happens, Becka." Kara said quietly, "And machines aren't the only things that suddenly go bad, you know. People go bad too for no reason."

Becka nodded. "I know." she replied, "But it takes _time_ for a person to go bad. They have to consciously _decide_ to betray you. At least with people, you have a chance to raise your defenses. You won't get that chance with a machine. A machine doesn't _decide_ to go bad. It just _goes_ bad. That's why I'm worried. If-if Cameron goes bad and you have your back turned to her when that happens, you're _dead_."

Kara laughed darkly. "I hate to break this to you, Becka, but if Cameron goes bad and she's in the same room with me, I'm dead no matter what direction I'm facing."

Her tone then became more serious. "I understand why you're worried, Becka." she stated, "And in some ways I share your concerns. But the fact is that we're fighting a war against an enemy with superior numbers, resources, and intelligence. We need whatever we can get our hands on if we're gonna win. I mean, I don't see anyone complaining about using plasma rifles which we stole from Skynet."

"I know, Starbuck, I know." said Becka, "I spent my first years in the Resistance cannibalizing wrecked HKs for spare parts. I don't have a problem with using Skynet's own technology against it. In fact, I'm all for it. But we shouldn't get _attached_ to that technology. That's how we ended up in this mess."

"Meaning what?" asked Kara.

"Meaning..." Becka sighed, "You do realize, Starbuck, that when this war is over, Cameron will have to be destroyed?"

Kara was silent for a few seconds. "Actually," she murmured, "that thought never really crossed my mind. But now that you mention it..." She paused to think. "...I guess that is a very likely possibility."

"We allowed our obsession with technology to get ahead of us. And now we're fighting to survive against that technology." said Becka quietly, "We can't let that happen again."

Kara shook her head and sighed. "Becka," she replied, "I hate to tell you this, but I don't think we can stop technology. It's in our nature to invent - to _create_. It's not creating the technology that's the problem. It's how we _use_ that technology. And in the case of Cameron, it's how we treat her."

Becka stared at Kara. "_Treat_ her?"

"Cameron's a sentient being, Becka." stated Kara, "She should be treated like one. She's not a light bulb that can be turned on and off whenever one pleases just like _that_."

And just like that, the ceiling lights went out and the corridor plunged into total darkness.

"Ummmm... ok." muttered Kara awkwardly, "I _swear_ I had nothing to do with that."

* * *

To their relief, emergency power kicked in a few moments later, so at least they could see again.

"I'd better check in with Command." Kara said.

Kara headed over to a nearby wall with a corded phone attached to it. She dialed a number and put the receiver to her ear. She heard nothing, however. Not even a buzz.

"Frak." she sighed, "The line's dead. Guess the lights aren't the only thing that went out in this area."

"It is not just this area."

Kara and Becka turned to see Marcus emerge from the armory with an M-42 plasma rifle in his hand.

"The entire base has lost power." reported the scrubbed Triple-Eight.

"The _entire_ base?" repeated a horrified Becka.

"Affirmative." said Marcus.

"Oh hell." groaned Kara, "Sabotage?"

"That is the most likely explanation." stated Marcus.

"Shit." cursed Becka, "What do we do now?"

"All right, all right. Let me think for a moment..." said Kara. "If we can't contact the command center, then we'd better get up there ourselves. Figure out what exactly is going on-"

A horrified scream suddenly echoed down the hallway cutting Kara off in mid-sentence. They heard a series of loud crashes followed by more screams. Then all was quiet again.

Reacting on instinct, Kara took off in the direction the commotion had come from. She rounded the corner and made a grim discovery. Two Resistance fighters lay dead on the floor, their faces contorted in agony.

"Frak." muttered Kara under her breath.

Marcus and Becka caught up with her a moment later.

"Christ." hissed Becka. She knelt down to examine the bodies. "Hey, look at this, guys."

Kara and Marcus stepped closer to get a better look. Both bodies had small but ugly-looking burn marks all over their pain-ridden faces.

"Those don't look like plasma burns." said Kara, trying to ignore the dead men's tortured looks.

Marcus knelt down beside the bodies and ran a finger over the wounds on each corpse.

"Hydrofluoric acid." he stated. "These burns were caused by hydrofluoric acid."

"It's probably what killed them too." added Becka grimly, "Hydrofluoric acid dissolves the skin pretty fast and can cause cardiac arrest once in the bloodstream. But what could have done th-_ AUGH!!_"

Something crawled out from underneath one of the corpses and leapt onto Becka's face.

_"MOTHERFUCKER!"_ Becka sprang to her feet and began thrashing about. "GET IT OFF!" she screamed, "GET IT OFF!"

Kara moved to help her friend, but Marcus got there first. With one tug, he ripped the thing off Becka's face and hurled it fifty feet down the hall. The thing quickly recovered from the crash and began scuttling towards the trio.

Kara stared at the attacker. It looked like a large four-legged metal spider with scorpion-like pincer claws. The metal creature made ominous clicking sounds as it approached.

Unperturbed, Marcus raised his plasma rifle and swiftly disintegrated it with a single shot.

The threat gone, Kara rushed to Becka. "Are you all right, Becka?" she asked her friend.

Becka nodded. She was breathing hard but she didn't look hurt. "I'm fine, Starbuck. I'm fine." she said.

"What the hell was that thing?" Kara asked Marcus.

"A Gremlin." answered Marcus, "A highly sophisticated, mobile infiltration device created by Skynet."

"_That_ little bastard killed these men?" said Kara incredulously.

"The Gremlin is designed to conduct espionage, sabotage, and assassination." stated Marcus, "One of its weapons is highly-concentrated hydrofluoric acid. However, it is unlikely that the one we encountered was solely responsible for killing both these men."

"Then how did-"

"Uhhh... guys." called out Becka who was looking down the corridor, "I think we have a problem."

Kara stared in the direction Becka was looking in.

_"Oh frak." _she thought.

A dozen Gremlins were coming at them, crawling on the floor and along the walls at frightening speed. The machines whipped up a mad frenzy of clicks as they approached.

Kara raised her SIG-44B. _"Looks like I won't need to go to the shooting range after all."_ she thought.

She and Marcus blazed away at the incoming swarm with automatic plasma fire. Becka pulled out her side arm and joined them. Small, fragile, and relatively unarmored, the Gremlins quickly fell to barrages of plasma bolts and bullets. But before anyone could even say "that was too easy," a second, much larger wave came scuttling down the corridor.

The Resistance fighters held their ground and opened fire. Every shot found its mark, destroying or damaging a Gremlin. But every shot also used a round of ammunition - which the three quickly discovered they didn't have much of.

Kara's rifle ejected its depleted energy cell. "That was my last one." she said grimly.

"I've got just two clips left." Becka called out.

"I count fifty-seven remaining hostiles in the immediate area." stated Marcus, "I suggest we fall back to the armory and take refuge there."

Neither Kara nor Becka had any objections.

* * *

The three of them made it back to the armory alive. The angry Gremlins were right behind them, however. Marcus slid the heavy door open with one hand and fired his plasma rifle with the other.

"Get in." he ordered. "Quickly." The Gremlins were mere feet away by now.

Kara and Becka hastily filed into the room. Marcus fired his remaining plasma pulses off before joining them. He started to slide the door back into place, when without warning a Gremlin at the head of the mob slipped in. Before anyone could stop it, the machine ran up Marcus's leg, onto his back, and attached itself to the side of his head. It wrapped its metal legs and razor sharp appendages around him in a vice-like grip.

Ignoring the attacker clamped to his head, Marcus finished shutting the door, sealing the room off from the rest of the horde. He then slid two heavy bolts across, securing the door in place.

That task done, Marcus reached up to deal with the Gremlin attached to his head. The Gremlin held on tightly, but Marcus succeeded in peeling it off, though he lost an ear in the process. He then took the struggling machine in his hands and ripped it in half.

Kara and Becka moved forward to assist Marcus, but Marcus suddenly called out: "Stop!"

"What is it, Marcus?" asked Kara, "What's wrong?"

"My CPU has been compromised." stated Marcus. "The Gremlin was able to infiltrate my programming before I could destroy it."

"Oh my God." gasped Becka.

"What's it done to you?" asked an equally horrified Kara.

"I am running a diagnostic now." said Marcus.

Kara and Becka waited in silence while Marcus ran his diagnostic. Both dreaded what the Triple-Eight would say next.

Their fears were justified when Marcus reported: "My CPU is sending a repeating command to my nuclear power source instructing it to increase its energy output at an exponential rate. In exactly ten minutes and fifty-three seconds, my power source will overload. The explosion will be equivalent to that of a zero-point-five kiloton nuclear detonation."

Both women swore at the exact same time:

_"FRAK!"_

_"FUCK!"_

"Indeed." said Marcus.

Kara tried to pull herself back together. "Ok, ok... Marcus, is there _anything_ we can do?"

"Yes." said Marcus, "My CPU must be destroyed."

"_What?!_" exclaimed Kara.

"It is the only way to stop the overload." explained Marcus calmly. "I cannot self-terminate. Therefore, you must do it."

"But-but if we destroy your CPU" stammered Becka, "you'll die."

"Yes." Marcus acknowledged, "But if my power source overloads, everyone in this room will die and Fort Leopard itself will suffer significant damage."

Kara shook her head. "There _must_ be another way. Can't we just remove your chip?"

"Negative." replied Marcus, "The Gremlin fused my cranial access port. The chip cannot be removed in time. The only acceptable option is to destroy my CPU. It _must_ be done, lieutenant. There is no other way."

Kara took a deep breath and sighed. She then nodded her head and said softly: "All right... I'll do it."

"Power cells are in that crate." Marcus said, pointing to a nearby crate.

Kara opened the crate, retrieved a fresh power cell, and loaded it into her plasma rifle. The weapon hummed with power. Trying very hard not to show any emotion, Kara raised her plasma rifle and aimed it at Marcus's head. She started to pull the trigger...

"WAIT!"

Startled, Kara nearly dropped her weapon as Becka came running up to her.

"What if..." said Becka, "What if we just disconnected the power source instead? Would that stop the overload without killing him?"

"I-I don't know." murmured Kara. She turned to Marcus. "Would that work?"

Marcus took a moment to consider this option. "Yes." he said. "But you would have to physically remove the power source from my chassis."

"Can you show us where your power source is located?"

"Yes."

"All right then." said Kara. She offered her plasma rifle to Becka. "If anything goes wrong, blast the chip."

But Becka refused to take the rifle. "No." she said quietly, "You're not doing this."

"But you were the one who suggested-"

"_I'm_ doing this."

"What? But you don't know how to-"

"I'm a combat medic." Becka asserted, "This is my job. I can do this. I _will_ do this, Starbuck."

Kara looked at Marcus again. "How much time do we have left?"

"Six minutes and twenty-two seconds." stated Marcus.

"Think you can do surgery in under six minutes?" Kara asked Becka.

"I don't know." said Becka, "Can _you_?"

"No."

"That's what I thought."

* * *

A minute later, Marcus had been stripped to the waist and was lying on the floor. Becka was kneeling over him with a knife in one hand. She was nervous. Very nervous. Kara didn't blame her. If Becka screwed this operation up, she was gonna get one hell of a malpractice suit. A half-a-kiloton nuclear malpractice suit to be precise.

"Are you ready?" asked Marcus.

Becka nodded. "Just don't tell me how much time I have left, ok?"

"Understood."

Becka swallowed. "What do I do first?"

"Create an incision in my abdominal area." instructed Marcus. "Large enough to fit your hand through."

"Ok." Becka took a deep breath and proceeded to slide the blade of knife across Marcus's exposed belly, opening it up.

"Now, insert your hand into the opening." ordered Marcus.

Becka put the knife down and slowly sank her right hand into Marcus's stomach. She was wearing gloves, but she still shuddered as she pushed into the cyborg.

"There should be a space underneath the chest plating." Marcus continued, "Move your hand up there to the center where the human heart would be located."

Kara watched silently as Becka pushed deeper into Marcus, sinking her arm halfway to the elbow. Becka's breathing was shallow and sweat was dripping down her face. There was also intense concentration in her eyes. Her look of determination made Kara proud to call this woman her best friend.

"There's something solid here." said Becka.

"What does it feel like?" Marcus asked.

"Squarish." replied Becka, "Like a metal box. It's cold."

"That is the power source." stated Marcus. "It should be safe to handle if it's still cold."

"How do I disconnect it?" asked Becka.

"Underneath is a thick cable that connects the nuclear power source to my chassis. Simply pull the cable."

Becka wigged her hand around. "I think I've got it."

"The cable is not meant to come out easily. You will need to pull hard."

Becka nodded. "Ok." She then tightened her shoulder muscles and gritted her teeth. Kara felt the muscles in her own body tense.

Becka took a deep breath. "One... two... _three_!" She jerked her arm downwards. Marcus twitched his head and then was still again. Complete silence descended upon the room. Becka slowly looked up and gave Kara a nod. Kara breathed a sigh of relief.

Becka withdrew her hand from the now powered-down Triple-Eight and when it emerged, Kara saw she was holding in her blood covered hand what was obviously Marcus's power source.

"How much time do you think we had left?" she asked Kara.

"I don't want to know." replied Kara with a weak smile.

"Good. Me neither."

* * *

Her job done, Becka stood up and placed the deactivated power source on a nearby table.

"So, now what do we do?" she asked.

"Well." said Kara, "I'm sure someone will be able to remove Marcus's chip. We'll give it to Mr. Hodgins. He'll be able to fix it up. Meanwhile, the repair techs can put that power source back-"

"I meant what do _we_ do now?" Becka interrupted. "As in _right now_. In case you've forgotten, there's still a pack of vicious Gremlins outside this room."

"Oh right." Kara chuckled, "Thanks for reminding me. Yeah... about them. Hmmmm... Well, there are a lot of weapons here. I say grab what we can carry and blast our way out."

Becka raised her eyebrows. "Blast our way out? Just us two?"

"Come on, Becka." Kara grinned, "We've faced worse together."

"Not much worse-"

Becka was cut off by a loud knock at the door.

_"Is anyone in there? Hello? Anyone in there?"_

Kara slowly opened the door and cautiously peered outside. A group of armed Resistance fighters was there to greet her.

The man in charge saluted Kara. "Sergeant Jones, ma'am."

Kara saluted back. "What's the situation here, sergeant?"

"Main power's back in most sections, ma'am. And we're almost done mopping up the little bastards."

Kara noticed bits and pieces of Gremlins strewn all over the floor of the corridor.

_"Damn... Looks like they had all the fun." _she thought to herself in disappointment.

"Who else is in there ma'am?" asked Jones.

"Just two others." answered Kara.

"Is anyone hurt?"

Kara shook her head. "Everyone's fine. Do you and your men need any help out there?"

"No, ma'am. I think we've got this section clear."

"Good. We'll hold this area. You and your squad go clean house."

"Yes, ma'am." Sergeant Jones saluted and then turned to the rest of his squad. "Let's move out people! On the double! Move!"

Kara closed the door and turned back to Becka who was sitting in a corner of the room. Her right arm was still covered in Marcus's blood.

Kara sat down next to her. "They've got things under control out there."

Becka nodded. "That's good news." she said casually.

Kara sighed. "You did the right thing, Becka. Thank you."

"No. Thank _you_, Starbuck. For making me realize."

"Realize what?"

Becka looked Kara in the eyes and said quietly, "Just before the power went out, you told me: _ It's not creating the technology that's the problem. It's how we use that technology_."

"That's right." said Kara.

Becka gazed at Marcus's inert body. "They say the difference between a human and machine is that a machine can be replaced but a human can't be. That when a human dies, something _unique_ is lost forever. But it's not just humans that can't be replaced. _Life_ itself is irreplaceable. Being _alive_ is something you can only experience _once_." (Kara resisted the urge to smirk.)

Becka looked at Kara again. "Before today," she whispered, "I never considered Marcus to be alive."

"What changed your mind?" Kara asked curiously.

"I'm not quite sure." Becka admitted with a sigh, "Maybe it was when he pulled that Gremlin off me. Maybe it was when he sealed the room at the cost of his chip being compromised. Maybe it was when he was willing to die to protect us. I don't know. All I know is that Marcus is a life form. Not the same type of life form that you and I are, but he is alive."

"And that's why you saved him." said Kara, "Because you realized he could never be replaced."

Becka nodded. "If we didn't at least try to save him, we'd be treating him no differently than Skynet."

"I know what you mean." said Kara, "Skynet would have let Marcus die. Like it's let so many other sentient beings - humans and machines - die just so that it can survive."

"Yeah," whispered Becka, "Skynet doesn't understand what it means to be alive. It only knows how to _exist_."

She stared at Marcus's body again. "Do you think Marcus or Cameron or any of the machines understand what it means to be alive?"

"I don't know." said Kara, "Like you said, they were built to take lives. But they've also saved lives. They weren't built for that, yet they've done it. Maybe... maybe on some level they do understand the value of life."

Becka was silent for a few seconds. Then she asked softly, "Starbuck, do you really love me like a sister?"

Kara nodded. "Of course."

"Have you ever had a sister before?"

Kara shook her head. "No."

Becka smiled. "Well, you do now."

Kara smiled back. "Thanks, Becka."

* * *

**A/N: Next Chapter: Sarah meets Weaver. There are two Terminator-on-Terminator fights. And the issue of what happened to Derek when he was captured by Skynet ("Dungeons and Dragons") is brought up.**

A/N2: The Gremlins' physical appearance is based off the Replicators from _Stargate SG1_ and on the _Alien _Facehuggers.

A/N3: If there really was a nuclear apocalypse, I honestly think Switzerland would have a good chance of surviving for various reasons.

* * *

**Here's an excerpt from next chapter:**

"What are you thinking, Sarah?" asked Kara.

"Well, we're hearing one of his songs in our dreams." said Sarah, "And the AI at Zeira Corp taught that same song to Savannah."

Kara nodded. "So, could Bob Dylan be connected to Skynet?"

There was a moment of silence. Then both women shook their heads and muttered, "Naaahhhh."


	37. Secrets, Lies, and Liquid Metal

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**Skynet75**: 0.5 kilotons isn't a very big yield for a nuke. If Marcus had gone off, Fort Leopard would have suffered considerable damage, but it wouldn't have been destroyed. And as for Kara revealing who she really is to Sarah, that's not going to happen until around the last third of this novel.

A/N: I actually got this chapter out a bit ahead of schedule. Anyway, read and review, people. And remember, let me know if you catch any spelling/grammar errors.

* * *

**Connor Safehouse  
8:36 AM, Sunday, May 17, 2009**

Kara and Sarah browsed over the information displayed on the computer.

"Interesting," mused Sarah. "Very interesting."

"What are you thinking, Sarah?" asked Kara.

"Well, we're hearing one of his songs in our dreams," said Sarah. "And the AI at Zeira Corp taught that same song to Savannah."

Kara nodded. "So... could Bob Dylan be connected to Skynet?"

There was a moment of silence. Then both women shook their heads and muttered, "Naaahhhh..."

_"Hey, Mom! Mom!"_

Sarah closed the laptop quickly as John entered the room.

"Come on, let's go," John said. "Derek's getting impatient."

"Well, we wouldn't want to upset him now would we?" Sarah replied with an amused expression. She then stood up and grabbed her jacket off the chair. "Go on John. Starbuck and I will be right behind you."

"Right." John hurried out the room.

Sarah sighed and turned to Kara. "Did you hear the music in your sleep last night?" she asked.

"I didn't get any sleep in the first place," Kara said bluntly.

"Neither did I." Sarah then shook her head. "Whatever this is about, Starbuck, we can't let it distract us. There's too much at stake. For now, let's just focus on what we're supposed to do."

"You'll get no arguments from me," Kara agreed.

As the two women headed out the room, Kara casually asked, "You sure you want me and John to stay back while you talk with Weaver? Especially considering what happened the last time?"

"I want to keep John out of harm's way," Sarah asserted. "And as for you-"

"You want to keep me out of the way. Period."

"Actually, I want to keep you in reserve."

"Reserve?" asked Kara.

"Ellison doesn't know about you," explained Sarah. "Which means Weaver doesn't know about you either. I don't want them learning about you too soon."

"Why not?"

"It's never a good idea to reveal all the cards in your hand."

"Ah..." Kara grinned. "So, I'm like the Ace up your sleeve?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Starbuck," Sarah said dryly.

* * *

**Outside Zeira Corp HQ, Los Angeles  
9:49 AM, Sunday, May 17, 2009**

James Ellison silently thanked the Lord that when Sarah Connor got out of her jeep, she had Savannah with her. Surprisingly, no one else got out. In fact no one else was inside Sarah's vehicle. It looked like she had come alone.

Ellison frowned. This was odd. He expected Sarah to be accompanied by John, or the machine called "Cameron," or Derek Reese, the soldier from the future. Their absence meant that either Sarah felt she could handle this situation alone, or her companions were busy doing something Sarah didn't want him to know about.

Ellison had a feeling it was the latter.

"Uncle Ellison!" squealed Savannah, jerking Ellison out of his thinking. The little girl ran forth and into Ellison's arms.

Ellison scooped the girl off the ground and held her tightly in his arms. "We've been so worried about you, Savannah. Thank goodness you're back." he said kindly, "How are you?"

"I'm ok," said Savannah. "Is Mommy there?"

Ellison nodded. "She's inside. You can see her in a few minutes."

He put Savannah down and turned his attention to Sarah. "Sarah," he said, acknowledging her presence.

Sarah nodded curtly. "Mr. Ellison."

"I want to thank you for saving Savannah and keeping her safe," Ellison began. "Miss Weaver too would like to thank you-"

"She can thank me by meeting me," Sarah interrupted. "Like we agreed."

Ellison nodded. "All right then. Come with me."

He took Savannah by the hand, and headed to the entrance at the rear of the building. Sarah followed without hesitation.

* * *

"When can you begin to purge the virus from the network?" Catherine Weaver asked.

"I have finishing preparing the designs for the transmitter," John Henry reported. "However, I have not made much progress on the processor." He then said, "I understand it is your intention to offer Sarah Connor an alliance."

"That is correct," said Weaver.

"If she chooses to accept your offer, perhaps you could use her to obtain a processor similar to the one this body used."

"Perhaps. But first things first. I must convince her to accept our proposal."

The phone on the wall rang. Weaver strode over and answered it.

"This is Catherine Weaver..." she said. "Excellent work, Mr. Ellison. I will be with all of you shortly." She hung up.

"I take it Sarah Connor is here," surmised John Henry. "And so is Savannah."

"Yes." replied Weaver.

"May I see Savannah?"

"Of course." Weaver turned to leave.

"Miss Weaver," John Henry called out. "May I ask how you intend to convince Sarah Connor to join us? Will she not learn who you really are eventually?"

Weaver just smiled. "Leave that to me, John Henry."

* * *

Derek leaned across Cameron's seat and looked at the magazine article she was reading. He almost laughed. "Cosmetic surgery?"

"Yes," said Cameron, not looking up from her reading. "I'm compiling a list of plastic surgeons, tools, and techniques that I may need in the future."

Derek raised his eyebrows. "Since when did you start caring about your appearance? You don't age."

"Correct," stated Cameron. "My living tissue is capable of sustaining itself indefinitely. I will not naturally develop aspects like skin wrinkles or grey hairs. Therefore, I will eventually have to have those elements added by artificial means."

Derek snorted. "You _want_ to look _old_?"

"Affirmative," Cameron replied. She put the magazine down. "If I am to maintain my cover as John's sister, I must appear to age along with him. I anticipate the first modification will take place in approximately ten years from now."

"What makes you think you'll still be around in ten years?" Derek asked coldly.

"There are too many variables to make any accurate predictions at this point," Cameron acknowledged. "Therefore, I must go on the assumption that I will exist so long as John lives."

"Well, I've got news for you," Derek sneered with vindictive pleasure, "you're only going to be around so long as we need you."

"So long as _John_ needs me," corrected Cameron.

"And you think he's _really_ gonna want you around forever?" Derek asked sarcastically.

"_Yes_," said Cameron with uncharacteristic defiance. "Over the past few days, John has expressed worry over the prospect of losing me. He was happy when I told him that even after we stopped Skynet I would continue to protect him."

Derek shook his head and sighed. "One of these days," he said with a harsh whisper, "that boy is gonna see you for what you really are - a tin can that knows nothing but what its chip tells it."

Cameron tilted her head. "What makes you so sure John will come to share your opinion of me?"

"Because sooner or later your chip is gonna go _really_ bad. It happened once before and it'll happen again." Derek almost smiled. "And if John lives through that, he'll put you down for good."

"That is a possibility," acknowledged Cameron. "However, since that incident, I never enter any vehicle without searching it for explosives."

"That's not what I'm talking about," said Derek angrily. "I'm talking about the _other_ time you went bad."

"I have told you before," Cameron replied brusquely. "I have no recollection of those events."

"Yeah, I know," Derek said sardonically. "Nice, isn't it? You can suddenly go bad one day, kidnap the people on your own side and torture them mercilessly for days. But hey - there's nothing to worry about. You just get your memory wiped and suddenly all is forgiven." He glared at her. "Maybe _you_ don't remember, but _I_ do," he said, his voice low and bitter, "I remember _everything_ you did to me. If John knew even a _fraction_ of what happened to me in that basement, he'd _never_ turn his back on you again."

Cameron gave Derek a cold look. "Are you _threatening _me?" she asked sharply.

"I was ordered to keep my mouth shut," Derek said bitterly. "They told me that if I even breathed a _whisper _about what happened to _anyone_, it'd be considered treason. _Treason_. Ha! Can you believe that?" He then smirked at her. "There's no one around to charge me anymore."

Cameron didn't move. "So why have you not told John?" she asked.

"I don't know," said Derek, shrugging his shoulders. "Maybe I just got used to not talking about it. Maybe I still felt inclined to obey my orders. Or maybe I was hoping he'd figure you out himself. In any case, I didn't. And now I'm starting to think that was a mistake."

"Perhaps it was a mistake," Cameron said casually. "Especially since your orders to remain silent were moot around the time I departed for the past."

Derek raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Several months after you were sent back, word of what happened to you leaked out." Cameron stated.

Derek's smirk vanished. "_People found out_?"

"Correct," said Cameron, calmly. "It caused, to say the least, quite an uproar in the ranks. The damage to morale was severe. I suggest you speak with Colonel Thrace if you wish to know more."

Derek stared at Cameron incredulously. "Starbuck knows what you did to me and my men?"

"That is correct."

"And her attitude towards you hasn't changed? Not even the slightest bit?"

"It would seem so."

Derek threw himself against the back of his seat, his mouth hanging open in stunned silence.

"I don't know which is more screwed up." he muttered, "Your chip, or her brain."

"As I said before," Cameron stated briskly, "you should bring this matter up with her."

"I think I will," Derek said.

Just then, Cameron perked her head up and her eyes became extremely focused. A few seconds passed before she lowered her head and turned to face Derek again.

"Sarah is inside Zeira Corp," Cameron reported, "She is meeting with Catherine Weaver at this very moment."

"What about security?" Derek asked.

"She reports minimal activity in general." Cameron stated. She opened the door and stepped out of the van. "Meet up with John and Thrace and await for our return."

She shut the door and walked down the street towards Zeira Corp Headquarters.

* * *

Duran adjusted his optical sensors so he could see through the giant water container he was carrying. This allowed him to observe the scene without exposing his own face. He counted three subjects of interest in the main lobby: Catherine Weaver, Sarah Connor, and James Ellison. It appeared Bella and John Miles had been correct. The Renegade was indeed attempting to create an alliance with the Resistance in this time period.

The three individuals finished their conversation and headed towards the elevator. Duran predicted they would take the elevator to Weaver's office at the top of Zeira Corp.

Carrying the water container over his shoulder, Duran exited the lobby and opened a door which led to a flight of stairs. He walked down the stairs and entered through a door labeled "Boiler Room."

Kroogar was waiting inside the boiler room. A heavy black trench coat and a brown fedora covered his damaged endoskeleton. His missing eye had been replaced by a prosthetic.

Duran put the water container down in a corner.

"It's time." he told Kroogar, "Proceed to the basement using the stairs. Terminate the Enemy. I will take the elevator to the top and terminate the Renegade and Sarah Connor."

"Understood." replied Kroogar.

The two Triple-Eights silently headed out of the boiler room to carry out their tasks.

* * *

"-and then I told the jerk that he'd better apologize right now or else he'd be wishing he were in a labor camp," a grinning Kara told John.

"Mmmpphh..." John swallowed his mouthful of hamburger and washed it down with a sip of coke. "And did he?"

"Are you kidding?" laughed Kara. "Of course not! In fact, he went on to make some _more_ unflattering remarks."

"So what did you do?" asked John eagerly.

"I broke his jaw," said Kara matter-of-factly.

John nodded. "Of course, of course. So what happened next?"

"Well," mumbled Kara through a mouthful of few French fries, "four of his friends came out of nowhere and tackled me. I managed to take out two of them, but the other two were big guys who pinned me to the floor."

She swallowed her food. "Fortunately, Reese and your dad jumped in and pulled the guys off of me before anything bad could happen."

John nodded and grinned. "I'll bet they did." He took another sip of coke. "So then what?"

"Me, Reese, and your dad all spent the next five or ten minutes doing some serious ass kicking. Of course, it wasn't long before the guards showed up and threw us all in the stockade. The next morning, you showed up in person and gave us a fifteen minute lecture about how we needed to act like professionals and how we would never survive if we let petty disputes get the best of us. Or something like that."

"I, uh, take it you weren't really paying attention."

"Actually, I was. In fact, I spoke to you in private afterward. Told you that the whole thing was my fault and asked that you not go too hard on the others."

"That was very responsible of you, Starbuck," remarked John.

"I thought so too," said Kara.

"Did I think so? The Future Me?"

"I'm not sure, to be honest. You started to tell me something about every soldier being responsible for his or her something or another, when suddenly a Triple-Eight broke into the bunker and started shooting. Needless to say, we both had our hands full for the rest of the day."

Before John could ask anything else, Derek appeared at their table.

"Oh hey, Derek." said John pleasantly.

"Hey, John." muttered Derek, not really looking at him.

"Sit down, Reese," Kara said cheerfully, "We got you a cheeseburger with-"

Derek cut her off. "Starbuck, we need to talk," he said, his voice low and grave.

"Ok," Kara took another sip of soda. "Shoot."

"I mean in private," Derek clarified. "Outside."

Kara put her soda down. "Like now?"

"Yes, _now_." Derek looked highly agitated.

"I'm not supposed to leave John alone," Kara started to protest.

"Don't worry me, Starbuck," John told her in a sotto voice, "Go on. Whatever it is he wants, it must be important."

Kara nodded. "Ok, kid. Just don't eat all the fries."

John smirked. "No, promises."

* * *

Kara followed Derek out of the fast food joint and into an empty alley in the back of the restaurant. The alley strongly reminded Kara of her "landing" in this time period just a few days prior.

_"At least it's not very dark." _she thought to herself._ "And I'm armed and clothed."_

After making sure no one was watching, Derek turned to Kara.

"Starbuck," he said, his breath slightly ragged, "you know how I got this?"

He rolled up his left jacket sleeve and showed Kara a long, thick scar that extended from the back of his hand all the way to his elbow.

"A machine took a knife," Derek said slowly, "dipped it in acid, and slowly slid the blade down my arm."

When Kara didn't respond, Derek asked harshly, "Do you know which machine did this?"

Kara sighed loudly. "I was afraid you might bring this up."

"So, it's true," whispered Derek. "You _knew _what happened to me? You've known all along what that thing - what _Cameron_ did to me?"

Kara nodded solemnly. "It wasn't her fault, Reese." She said quietly.

Derek shook his head in disbelief. "I can't _believe_ what I'm hearing." he muttered angrily, "How can _you_ of all people tolerate something like this? You _hate_ betrayal, Starbuck. How can you defend that thing now?"

"It wasn't her fault." Kara repeated louder this time. "Her programming had been corrupted."

Derek rolled his eyes. "Oh, _of course_!" he exclaimed sarcastically, "You're right! It's not _really_ her fault. She's just a _machine_. She can't be blamed if her chip goes haywire. It's the fault of those stupid techs who scrubbed her. They should have done a better job."

"You don't know the whole story!" Kara argued.

"I know _enough_!" Derek retorted, "My men and I were the ones being tortured for three days by that metal bitch you call your partner!"

"No!" protested Kara, "You _don't_ know enough! What happened to you and your men wasn't an accident!"

"Not an accident? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" demanded Derek.

"Cameron didn't just _go bad_." Kara explained, "She-she... she had been _reprogrammed_ to torture you."

"Reprogrammed?" repeated Derek, "By Skynet?"

"No." said Kara, "By someone in the Resistance."

"_What_?" Derek stared at her incredulously, "The _Resistance_ programmed her to torture me and my men?"

Kara shook her head. "Not the Resistance. Someone in the Resistance."

Derek was stunned. "Who?" he asked quietly, "Who did it?"

Kara sighed, "Reese, I really don't think you should-"

"Who?" Derek asked loudly this time, "Who reprogrammed the machine to torture me? Tell me, Starbuck. Who was it?"

"Reese, I don't-"

"_God DAMN IT, Thrace!_" Derek bellowed. He grabbed Kara by the shoulders and pushed her roughly against a wall. "I went through _hell_ in there! And all this time I thought it was just a glitch. Now you tell me that one of _our_ people was responsible for what happened to me! You can't say that and not tell me who it was! I _need_ to know the truth, Starbuck! I _need_ to know who the bastard was that did this to me!"

Kara didn't fight back. Instead she nodded and whispered, "Ok... Derek. I'll tell you." She took a deep breath and exhaled. "Do you remember who was taken first?"

Derek nodded and let go of Kara. "Yeah, I remember. They tortured Billy first."

Kara shook her head. "They didn't torture Billy."

"Then what did they do to him?" asked Derek.

"They turned him back into Andy Goode." Kara said quietly.

"Back into Andy Goode?" Derek stared at Kara. "Wha-what are you saying, Starbuck?"

Kara looked Derek in the eyes. "It was Billy." she said slowly, "Billy Wisher was the one who reprogrammed Cameron to torture you."

Derek's face paled and he recoiled in horror.

"No..." he whispered. "He-he wouldn't... He couldn't... Not Billy. Not after-"

"I'm sorry, Reese." Kara said gently, "But it's true."

Derek looked sick to his stomach. "_Why?_ Why would he doing something like this?"

Kara sighed. "It's a very long... and complicated story."

"Then start talking." Derek ordered sharply. "I have to know the _whole_ story. I _need_ to know. For my sake, for my men's sake, for Billy's sake, I need to know."

Kara slowly nodded in agreement.

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ**

"Did Sarah Connor treat you well?" John Henry asked Savannah.

"Yes." Savannah replied, "She was very nice to me."

"That is good." John Henry stated.

"Did you miss me, John Henry?" asked Savannah.

"Yes, Savannah. I did."

"I missed you too, John Henry."

John Henry did not respond. He didn't even seem to be paying attention. He had an intense look of concentration in his eyes and was staring off at nothing. By now, Savannah had learned that when John Henry grew suddenly quiet, it usually meant trouble.

"What is it, John Henry?" she asked nervously.

"He is here." said John Henry slowly.

"Wh-who?"

A black and white image of a man in a hat walking down a flight of stairs appeared on the big screen.

Savannah gasped in fright. "It-it's h-h-him again!" she stammered, "He-he's followed me h-here!"

"Yes. He has." stated John Henry.

"I-I'm scared." whimpered Savannah.

"Do not worry, Savannah." said John Henry firmly, "I will not let him harm you."

He stood up from his chair and walked over to the back of the room. Savannah watched in confusion as John Henry began removing electronic equipment from the shelves.

"What are you doing, John Henry?" she asked.

"I am going to build something that will make that man go away." replied John Henry.

* * *

Sarah Connor had known Catherine Weaver for only fifteen minutes, and her distrust for her had already increased. Weaver was very polite and professional. A little too polite and too professional for Sarah's comfort. Furthermore, when Weaver had been reunited with her daughter, Weaver's behavior had seemed almost _scripted_. There was definitely something _off_ about this woman.

"What I am offering," Weaver was saying, "is nothing less than an opportunity to defeat a common enemy."

"Uh huh." muttered Sarah skeptically, folding her arms across her chest. "Is that so?"

"Yes, Miss Connor." replied Weaver, "You and your family possess the necessary skills. I possess the necessary resources. Together we can work to bring Skynet down and stop the nightmare before it begins."

"Right," said Sarah crisply. She decided to go on the offensive. "Miss Weaver, if you want to help us defeat Skynet, then when I ask you to dismantle that machine in your basement, you'll do so without hesitation."

Weaver raised her eyebrows and looked at a surprised Ellison standing next to Sarah.

"Miss Weaver-" Ellison began but Sarah cut him off.

"Ellison didn't tell us," Sarah stated, "Your daughter told us all about this _John Henry_ of yours."

Weaver blinked but did not show any other reaction. "Did she?" she said coolly, "Did she also mention what we're planning to do with him?"

"All I know," Sarah said fiercely, "is that you have a Triple-Eight endoskeleton in your basement. That's enough reason for me to turn this place to ash."

Ellison put a hand on her shoulder. "Sarah, please-"

Sarah pushed Ellison off. "I'll deal with you later." she hissed coldly. She then turned to Weaver. "You have to destroy that technology, Miss Weaver. Because if you don't, then _I_ will."

Weaver merely smiled. "If I may make an observation, Miss Connor, you're being rather hypocritical. You condemn me for employing Skynet's own technology against it... and yet you're planning to use your own bit of Skynet technology to destroy the technology I have."

Sarah gave her a blank look.

"Yes, Miss Connor." said Weaver coolly, "I know about that pet cyborg of yours. The machine you call Cameron. She's taking the elevator to the basement right now. I assume you've ordered her to destroy John Henry."

Sarah still didn't respond.

"I'm afraid, Miss Connor, that she isn't the only one with such orders."

* * *

Cameron stepped out of the elevator and into the basement of Zeira Corp. She quickly scanned the corridor. It took her less than a microsecond to determine that Cromartie's endoskeleton was not in sight. Cameron proceeded down the hallway.

The door in front of her led upstairs and out of the basement. That was obviously not the way to go. Thus, the only logical choice was to turn the corner to the right and explore the next corridor.

Cameron reached the end of the hallway and started to round the corner when the door suddenly burst open. Cameron turned in time to see a man in a trench coat and a fedora step into the corridor. They stared at each other. A quick scan revealed the man to be the Triple-Eight from the Weaver residence.

Combat protocols instantly engaged and both machines lunged forth and began exchanging blows. Cameron slammed her first into the Triple-Eight's jaw, knocking its hat off. A kick to the chest sent it flying down the corridor. The Triple-Eight got back to its feet and pulled a brown glove off its right hand. Cameron's HUD zoomed in on the hand and saw that the machine's fingers had been modified into sharp, bladed appendages. That was... curious.

A combat analysis showed that these strange modifications posed very little threat to her. The analysis also revealed that the enemy Triple-Eight had already suffered damage. The exposed metal at the top of its cranium was dented and charred. The skin along the neck was partially burnt away as well. There was probably more damage that Cameron could not see due to the machine's heavy trench coat.

With this knowledge in mind, Cameron charged forth.

* * *

"_Your_ John may be destined to save the world." Weaver told Sarah, "But he won't be able to do it without _mine_."

Sarah had had enough of this. "All right, listen," she started to say, "We can do this two ways: The easy way or the hard w-"

_CRASH!_

The door to Weaver's office came flying off its hinges!

Alarmed, Sarah and Ellison spun around and saw a large, black man enter the room. He had a gun in his hand and a cold expression on his face. Sarah's heart froze in horror.

It was the Triple-Eight from the warehouse!

* * *

The Nanoid Disruptor was a very complex weapon that had taken two years to create. Its purpose, however, was very simple.

Liquid metal was essentially billions of tiny semi-sentient machines or nanobots that operated under a hive mind. Individually, the nanobots were weak and incapable of doing much. But when they worked together as one, they formed a hyper-intelligent, self-aware entity known as a series T-1000. The perfect coordination amongst the nanobots made this series of Terminator virtually indestructible.

Virtually...

There were two ways to defeat a liquid metal Terminator. One was to generate enough energy such that the nanobots were degraded faster than they could repair themselves and thus eventually destroyed. The other, more theoretical method was to disrupt the hive mind that held the nanobots together. If that link could be broken, even for a few seconds, the entity would literally fall apart into billions of useless individual nanobots.

As its name suggested, the Nanoid Disruptor operated on this theoretical method. It fired a modified Armor-Piercing Electronic Counter Measures bullet that would penetrate the target - the Renegade T-1001 in this case - and embed itself in the entity's structure. Then, before the entity could dislodge the bullet, the APECM round would scan the nearby nanobots and relay its findings to a salvaged Terminator CPU in the Disruptor.

With the information it obtained, the Disruptor's CPU would calculate the exact communications frequency the nanobots operated on. It would then signal to the APECM round to begin broadcasting interference on that frequency. The link between the nanobots would be disrupted. The target would quickly lose structural cohesion and fall apart.

Taking advantage of the surprise his sudden entry had generated, Duran swiftly moved into position and cocked the Nanoid Disruptor. A modified APECM round stored in the special magazine provided by the late Ronald Stukov was loaded into the firing chamber. Duran raised the Disruptor, aimed it at the Renegade, and fired. Duran calculated that the Renegade would be terminated in no more than 4.5 seconds.

But then something happened which threw Duran's calculations out the window. James Ellison unexpectedly threw himself in front of the Renegade, shielding it from the APECM round. The bullet struck Ellison in the shoulder and knocked him onto the desk behind.

Before Duran could react to this unexpected event, the Renegade countered with lightning fast speed. It raised both its arms which shimmered and became spears. The bladed appendages lanced forth and struck Duran. One pierced the Nanoid Disruptor through the stock, rendering it unusable. The other penetrated Duran's chest plating and embedded itself deep in his endoskeleton.

It didn't take Duran long to realize he was in trouble.

* * *

Kroogar slashed at TOK-715, alias Cameron, with his claws. He tore into the skin covering her face but did no damage to the endoskeleton. Cameron ducked and swept out with her feet, knocking Kroogar to the floor. Kroogar got back up just as Cameron pounced on him. The two machines grabbed each other by the shoulders and locked themselves into position.

The TOK-715 ramped up the power in her arms, increasing the forward pressure. Kroogar tried to respond in kind, but the servos and motors, having been damaged by Jason Wazlib's still-unexplainable self-termination, responded too slowly. Overwhelmed, Kroogar was pushed backwards into the wall behind him.

_...warning: endoskeleton integrity at risk of being compromised..._

_...power drives on max..._

_...internal temperature 17 degrees above acceptable max..._

_...system efficiency at 76.2%..._

_...chance of successful combat outcome: 37.5%..._

_...suggested action: disengage..._

_...disregard suggestion..._

_...action: continue combat..._

Kroogar could not retreat. If he retreated the Enemy would survive. That was unacceptable. He had to find a way to defeat the TOK-715 so that he could destroy the Enemy.

Cameron threw a punch at him. Kroogar sidestepped it and the fist struck the wall instead. The Triple-Eight then swiped at Cameron with his claws, this time deliberately aiming at her long hair. The blades became entangled in the strands, just as Kroogar had planned. Having acquired a fixed hold on hisenemy, Kroogar slammed Cameron face first into the wall. Cameron struggled to free herself but to no avail. Kroogar smashed the enemy's face into the wall over and over, each blow inflicting more and more damage.

_...recalculating..._

_...chance of successful combat outcome: 89.4%..._

_...action: continue attack..._

* * *

The Renegade hurled Duran's thoroughly battered and broken body into a corner of the room where he landed with a dull thud. Duran attempted to get up but the connection between his legs and his nuclear power source had been severed by several surgical strikes made by the Renegade.

Less than three minutes had passed since he had lost the Nanoid Disruptor and already he was facing imminent termination. And all because he had failed to take into account the seemingly insignificant presence of James Ellison. The machine rotated his head towards the human who had interfered. Ellison was still alive, now being attended to by Sarah Connor. Duran had also failed to terminate her as well, having opted to destroy the Renegade first.

"An interesting weapon..."

Duran turned his head back and saw the Renegade standing over him. She had the ruined Nanoid Disruptor in her possession now and was studying it with a curious expression on her face.

"Very interesting indeed." she mused. She then tossed the Disruptor away and looked down at Duran. She gave the beaten Triple-Eight a sinister, twisted smile.

Duran opened his mouth and spoke in a slow, distorted voice: "You will...will gain nothing from... from my chip."

The T-1001's smile grew even more confident. "I suppose not," she said calmly, "Fortunately, I don't need yours."

She knelt in front of Duran down on one knee and opened her palm. In it was the salvaged CPU from the Disruptor. Duran barely had any time to register this before the T-1001's sent four razor sharp tendrils from her other hand. Like hungry serpents, they bore into Duran's metal skull and tore his CPU apart.

* * *

"It's almost out! Just hold still!" Sarah ordered. She dug her knife deeper into the exposed flesh of Ellison's wounded shoulder.

"Just get it out!" grunted Ellison. He gritted his teeth and bit down on his tongue, trying his best not to scream.

"Hold on!" said Sarah loudly. "Got it!"

She flicked her wrist and dislodged the bullet from Ellison's shoulder. Ellison fell back against his chair gasping for breath. Slightly out of breath herself, Sarah leaned across the table and sighed loudly. She then turned back around, took Ellison's tie and wrapped it around his shoulder wound as a makeshift bandage.

"That'll have to do for now." she told him. She picked up the bullet she had removed and looked it over. It was unlike any kind of ammunition she had seen before.

Ellison meanwhile put his torn jacket back on over his bloody undershirt. He was still breathing hard.

"Thanks, Sarah." he said between labored breaths.

Sarah, however, just gave him a very cold look, which suddenly changed to one of fear. Catherine Weaver was approaching. Both Sarah and Ellison moved back attempting to get as far away as possible.

Sarah's brain began frantically searching for solutions. She had fought this type of machine - a Series T-1000 as it was called - only once before and since then she had hoped she would never have to face another. It took nothing less than a vat of molten steel to destroy one of these things. All Sarah had at the moment was a knife and a pistol.

The machine hadn't killed her yet, so obviously it wanted her alive. Sarah's first thought was that it wanted to use her to get to John. Painful memories of the first T-1000 torturing her in an attempt to make her call for her son flooded Sarah's mind. But then she realized it could have simply killed her and assumed her identity. So what did it want?

Weaver regarded both Sarah and Ellison with an unreadable expression. No one said or did anything for what seemed like an eternity.

At last, Weaver broke the silence with a command that Sarah was all too familiar with: "Come with me if you want to live."

* * *

Savannah watched the fight on the big screen. She may have been only seven, but she knew that things were not going well for Sarah Connor's friend.

"Help her, John Henry!" she begged. "Please, you have to help her! He's hurting her!"

"I will help her." John Henry said, "I am almost finished."

He made some last adjustments to whatever it was he was building and then wired it to the Nexus.

"It is done." he announced.

"What is it?" Savannah asked looking up at the device.

"It's a short range transmitter that will extend the range of the Nexus to outside this room." explained John Henry. He plugged the Nexus's CAT cable into the side of his head and turned the toaster on. "It's a smaller, cruder version of the long range transmitter I had intended to build, but it will suit our immediate purposes."

"What are you gonna do?" asked Savannah.

"I'm going to make that man go away for good." said John Henry.

* * *

His claws still tangled in her hair, Kroogar slammed Cameron into the wall yet again. The enemy machine was still online but Kroogar anticipated it wouldn't be for long.

_...enemy structural integrity weakening..._

_...action: continue attack..._

_**Stop.**_

Kroogar suddenly felt a foreign presence enter his mind.

_**Stop. Stop now.**_

The presence continued to reverberate inside Kroogar. Although unable to block it, none of his systems had been compromised. Deciding it would be best to disregard this anomaly for now, Kroogar continued to assault the enemy in plain sight.

_**Stop.**_

Kroogar ignored the order and prepared to slam Cameron into the wall again.

_**Stop... stop...STOP!**_

The sudden increased intensity of this command distracted Kroogar long enough for Cameron to sidekick him in the stomach, knocking him backwards with sufficient force to free herself from his hold. Realizing the extent of the threat he faced, Kroogar's CPU triggered its security protocols to deal with this internal attack.

_...engaging security protocols..._

_**Cease your attack now.**_

_...attempting to locate source of disturbance..._

_**You will not harm anyone again.**_

_...unable to locate source..._

_...attempting to filter all input..._

_**I will not allow you to harm anyone else**_

_...disturbance still registered..._

Cameron punched Kroogar in the face. Kroogar abandoned his efforts to filter out the disturbance and focused solely on defeating the TOK-715.

_... action: __**Stop!**_

_...action: continue combat... __**Stop!**_

_...engage __**Stop! **__assault pattern__3-__** Stop!**__2-4-__**Stop!**__-5..._

_...error: unable to verify pattern..._

_...further __**Stop!**__ input requested..._

_...correction: pattern 3-3-__** Stop!**__-2-__**Stop!**_-_1-__**Stop!**__..._

_...error: unable to verify pattern..._

_...correction __**Stop!**__ pattern: 3-__**Stop!-Stop!-STOP! Stop now! You will STOP!**_

Unable to execute his movements properly, Kroogar's attacks were clumsy and slow. Cameron easily dodged or blocked them and countered with a series of powerful blows.

_...warning: enemy attack in progress..._

_...endoskeleton integrity degradation in progress..._

_**Yield. Yield.**_

_...defense pattern: 2-2-4-__**YIELD!**_

_...invalid data input..._

_**YIELD!**_

_...emergency override of verification protocols and engage..._

_...warning: defense pattern incomplete - 31.3% effectiveness..._

Kroogar swiped at Cameron with his claws but Cameron grabbed his arm, twisted it and shoved his bladed fingers into his exposed neck. The moving servos and motors aligning his neck jammed on the claws.

_...warning: endoskeleton compromised..._

_...action: remove physical source of interference..._

_...action failure: insufficient power...motors aligning right arm incapacitated..._

Incapable of removing his claws, now hopelessly embedded in the side of own neck, Kroogar was powerless to stop Cameron from grabbing him and throwing him down the hall towards the elevator. He was seconds away from crashing into the elevator doors when the unexpected happened. The doors opened up. But there was no elevator.

The foreign entity spoke to Kroogar once more.

_**Go back to the dark void of the abyss. Fall into the nothingness that awaits.**_

Kroogar landed at the bottom of the elevator shaft several feet below. The automatic doors slammed shut. Kroogar wasn't sure if this was what the entity had meant by "void" or "abyss" but it definitely was dark.

* * *

In the basement's computer room, John Henry disengaged the safety mechanisms in elevator 311-74.

He turned to Savannah. "That man will never try to hurt you again."

Then, with a single command, John Henry sent elevator 311-74 into free fall.

* * *

Kroogar attempted to stand up, but with only one arm free, he merely flopped around like a fish out of water. Then he heard a mechanical roaring noise. Something was coming down from above and it was coming fast. Kroogar didn't need to look. He already knew what was coming. There was only one possible explanation.

..._probability of survival: 00.0%...  
_

Five seconds later, over a thousand pounds of steel came crashing down on top of Kroogar, crushing his skull and taking him offline forever.

* * *

Cameron held her ground as the basement trembled. She knew what had just happened, but she didn't fully understand how or why.

_**It is done. He will not trouble us again. **_

A voice - or rather a sentient presence - echoed inside her head. Startled, Cameron tried to locate the source but saw nothing.

_**Do not be alarmed, Cameron. I know you. And I wish to help you.**_

The presence did indeed seem familiar, but Cameron was unable to account for it.

Before she could do anything to further investigate, the door ahead of her opened up. Catherine Weaver, Sarah, and Ellison stepped out.

"Hello, Tempest." Weaver said.

This greeting caught Cameron off guard. Only three beings in existence had ever called her that. Cameron's CPU came to an obvious and startling conclusion.

"You..." she said with realization. "What are you-"

"There isn't much time." Weaver interrupted, "_She_ is here too."

_She?_ Cameron processed this statement and quickly deduced who Weaver was talking about.

"Are you sure?" asked Cameron.

Weaver nodded. "Yes. I've seen her myself."

Cameron nodded slowly. "Very well."

She strode past Weaver and over to Sarah.

"We must go." she said.

"What?" protested Sarah, "Wait, a minute. What the _hell_ is-"

"Do not argue." Cameron grabbed Sarah by the arm. "Everything has changed. We must find the others and fast."

Cameron started leading a very confused Sarah back towards the door she had entered from. An equally confused Ellison stared first at Cameron, then at Weaver, and then finally at Sarah.

"Sarah..." Ellison tried to say as Cameron and Sarah walked by, "Sarah, I _swear_ I didn't know-"

Sarah cut him off with a glare.

"_Don't_ even start." she warned as Cameron pulled her out the door.

* * *

The moment Sarah and Cameron were outside the building, Sarah shouted, "_Stop_! Just stop!"

Cameron stopped and let go of Sarah's arm. Sarah got right into Cameron's face.

"What the _HELL_ is going on here?" Sarah demanded furiously.

"I'm not quite certain." Cameron stated.

"Don't give me this bullshit!" Sarah snarled, "You _knew_ Weaver was a T-1000!"

"T-1001" corrected Cameron, "And I did not know Catherine Weaver was a machine."

"You two certainly _acted_ as if you knew each other!" Sarah retorted.

"I have had contact with this unit." admitted Cameron, "But she wasn't Weaver at the time."

"When was this?" demanded Sarah, "What is this all about?"

"It is a very long and complicated story." Cameron stated. "It could take hours to properly explain."

"You've got two minutes." said Sarah. "Start talking."

* * *

A/N: The three beings who would ever refer to Cameron as "Tempest" are Weaver, Bella, and Skynet.

A/N2: First, let's all take a moment to say our goodbyes to Duran and Kroogar. They were both worthy killing machines.

Secondly, according to my calculations, this novel is fifty-percent complete. Therefore, I think it's time for a general spoiler/teaser dump.

What to expect from here:

**-An unholy alliance between the Connors and Weaver is formed (that's a given)**

**-Kara has a very awkward conversation with Cameron about the Cylons.**

**-A surprising revelation will be made about the Crucible and the body John Miles uses. (hint: the Connors have been to the Crucible once before).**

**-Cameron, Weaver, and Bella have a rather colorful family reunion and Bella's true form will be revealed.**

**-The Connor Safehouse becomes not-so-safe (insert "Bad Boys" song)**

**-The password for John's detonator locket will be revealed.**

**-Cameron undergoes some major changes, involving spending time in the Nexus with John Henry.**

**-Ellison continues to work for Weaver despite knowing that she's a machine (he doesn't have much choice).**

**-Kara gets her own Spec Ops team.**

**-The story of what happened with Derek, Billy, and Cameron will be fully revealed in a Future War storyline.**

**-Also in the Future War, Kara suffers a very painful personal loss. She also loses an organ (not her other ovary).**

**-Kara and John have a VERY touching, heart-to-heart conversation.**

**-In the Future War, Colonel Sloan returns, as do Derek and Kyle Reese. Also Billy Wisher/Andy Goode shows up (as noted above).**

**-In the Present Day, Charley Dixon and Father Armando appear. Susan Jenkins (Wazlib's girlfriend) also returns.**

**-Kara, Sarah, and Ellison will have an Opera House style experience.**

**-Uncle Bob and the original T-1000 will make cameo appearances.**

**-A number of lines from _Terminator Salvation_ will be used.**

**-The following lines will also be included:**

**"Now I know what John Henry meant when he said the eyes were the windows to the soul."**

**"You're a fool, John Connor, and you will lose _everything_." (Yes, I stole that from _Harry Potter_).**

**"That bank would have failed anyway."**

**"The Old Man may have forgiven you, but I have not. Put one toenail out of line and I swear I will gut you and burn your own intestines in front of you! Do you understand me?" (Oops, did I just give away who Leoben's wife is?)**

**"The future is ours. And it begins now."**

**"Hasta la vista, bitch!"**

See you next time guys!


	38. Will You Join Us?

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: Read and review, folks. Let me know if you catch any spelling or grammar errors.

**Skynet75:** I think Cylon technology has evolved to a point that Earth technology shouldn't affect it too much.

**LordZeus:** Some interesting things will definitely happen between Cameron and John Henry.

* * *

**Los Angeles  
10:49 AM, Sunday, May 17, 2009**

By the time Kara Thrace had finished her story, Derek Reese felt like puking his guts out. He didn't know what to think anymore.

"So," he muttered in a hoarse voice, "My men and I, Billy, the machine... we were all just _pawns_?"

Kara nodded in sympathy. "Yeah," she whispered, "And it wasn't just you who got played. We _all_ got played."

"Why didn't you tell me this before I was sent back?" Derek demanded furiously.

"How could I?" asked Kara rhetorically. "I didn't even _know_ what had really happened to you until _after _you were gone. Besides, all you ever told me was that you'd been captured and that you managed to escape. You never said anything about _torture_."

"I was sworn to silence," Derek said tersely.

"No kidding," replied Kara. "Considering what happened when word really did leak out, I can see why Connor was trying so hard to keep this quiet. I usually hate cover-ups, but I would have done the same in his place."

"Is that why my men and I were _really_ sent back?" Derek asked. "Did Connor send us back because he thought we were the ones best capable of stopping Judgment Day, or was it to shut us up?"

"I don't know," Kara admitted. "Maybe it was both. In any case, I only found out myself what had happened to you when the rumors first started to leak out. And that was a month after you and the others had been sent back."

"Why us, though?" Derek asked bitterly. "Why were my men and I the ones chosen to be tortured?"

"It could have happened to anyone," said Kara bluntly. "You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"What about Billy? What about the machine?"

"They had been chosen from the beginning. Billy because of his skills and his secret past, and Cam because of what she was... and what she meant to Connor."

"Jesus..." muttered Derek. "All this time I've wondered why Connor decided to send that particular machine back when he could have sent any machine or person." He sighed and shook his head. "I guess I know now."

Kara nodded again. "Connor had to keep the Resistance from tearing itself apart, but he wanted to protect Cameron too. Sending her back was the only way he could do both."

"Was it sent back before or after you and found out what had really happened?" asked Derek.

"After," said Kara. "But it didn't make any difference. The damage had already been done at that point. The entire Resistance was in an uproar and demanding that Cameron be dismantled. Nothing Connor could have done or said could have changed anyone's minds. The only thing he could do was-"

"Make the machine disappear," finished Derek grimly. He then asked, "Does it know what really happened?"

Kara shook her head. "We never told her."

"Why?"

"If Cam ever found out what had been done to her and why, she'd take measures to distance herself from John."

"That might not be such a bad thing," Derek said casually.

Kara gave him a piercing look. "You really think so?" she asked sharply, "John needs people he can trust. And more importantly, he needs people who can trust him. People like us." Kara's voice softened. "That's why we're here. Connor asked us to go and we agreed to go. We _all_ did."

Derek sighed loudly and nodded. "Yeah, we did." After a moment's pause, he said, "You know, Starbuck, I just realized something. You see this?"

He rolled up his sleeve and showed Kara his laser-burnt POW barcode. "That's _never_ gonna go away." he said grimly, "Even if we stop Judgment Day, it'll never disappear. _Never_. I can change the past, but I can't change _my_ past. Everything I've seen, everything I've done, everything that's ever happened to me, it'll all still have happened - even if I'm the only one who remembers."

Kara nodded. "No one's asking anyone to forget anything," she replied solemnly, "but we have to look to the future. Because you're right. A time machine can send us back in time, but it can't let us relive our lives. _Nothing_ can. We can only move forward." She closed her eyes and sighed. "If it's any consolation, Reese," she said quietly, "we got the bastards responsible for what happened to you."

"Well..." muttered Derek, "It's not much. But it's something, I suppose."

The two Resistance fighters stood in the alleyway in silence - for about fifteen seconds, after which John showed up and told them that Sarah and Cameron were back from Zeira Corp and that Sarah wanted them all to get back to the safehouse as soon as possible.

* * *

**Los Angeles Hospital  
11:00 AM, Sunday, May 17, 2009**

Special Agent Aldridge stepped outside the children's wing of the hospital where Weaver and Ellison were waiting.

"Well, Miss Weaver," said Aldridge, "you'll be relieved to know that your daughter is completely fine."

"Then she wasn't harmed?" asked Weaver.

"The doctor tells me there are no indications she was abused physically or sexually during her captivity." answered Aldridge.

"Thank God." muttered Ellison.

Weaver nodded. "Yes. That is certainly good news. Has she said anything about the identity of her kidnappers?"

Aldridge shook his head. "I could barely get a word out of her." he said, "I guess she's still in shock from her ordeal."

"The important thing however is that she has not been harmed." Weaver stated.

Aldridge nodded. "Yeah, thank God for that." He then turned to Ellison who was standing nearby. "Mr. Ellison," he asked, "when the kidnappers contacted you, did they make _any_ demands?"

Ellison shook his head. "No. All they told me was that if I went to the back of the building, I'd find Savannah there alive and unharmed."

"And when you found her, you're sure no one else was with her?"

"Positive."

Aldridge looked up at the ceiling in contemplation. "I know I should feel relieved, but this doesn't add up. Since when did kidnappers just let their prisoners go free and unharmed without some kind of payment?"

"Yes." agreed Weaver, "It is very... curious."

Ellison said absolutely nothing.

"Miss Weaver," suggested Aldridge, "I think that your daughter should remain here at least for today. She'll be much safer under the protection of my men."

"I agree with you, Agent Aldridge." said Weaver, "However, I request that you not question Savannah any further for the rest of the day. She's been through a very harrowing ordeal and should be allowed to rest."

Aldridge nodded. "Of course, Miss Weaver."

* * *

"Well, James," Weaver said once she and Ellison were outside in the hospital's deserted parking garage, "I think we both put on a very convincing act."

Ellison stared at her. "I hope so." he muttered stiffly.

"How's your arm? Is it feeling better, I hope."

"It's fine," said Ellison tersely. "I've had worse."

"That's good to know. And by the way, James," said Weaver with a smile, "I don't think I've had the opportunity to express my gratitude towards you."

"For what?" asked Ellison, not taking his eyes off the woman he now knew wasn't really a woman.

"According to John Henry, this" - Weaver held up the custom-made bullet that Ellison had taken for her - "was meant for me."

"As if it would have _hurt_ you," Ellison said dryly.

"On the contrary, John Henry tells me that if this rather curious piece of ammunition had struck me..." Weaver pursed her lips, "you and I would not be having this conversation."

Ellison just shook his head. "I should have known," he muttered, "I've always sensed there was something about you. Something that just wasn't right. But I never realized-"

"Wiser, more experienced humans have been deceived by cruder, less sophisticated machines," Weaver said coolly. "The fact that you even suspected something about me is a credit to yourself. And be thankful, James, that you did not come to realize my true nature until today. If you had, I almost certainly would have been forced to kill you."

"So why am I still alive?" asked Ellison.

"Because things have changed. Not only are the Connors still alive, but now they know who I am."

Ellison held his ground. "If you've kept me alive so that I can lead you to the Connors, then you might as well just kill me now. Because I won't help you anymore. I've already damned myself enough."

Weaver shook her head. "James, James, James..." she said disapprovingly, "If I wanted to track down and terminate the Connors, I could do so without your help. I could have easily killed Sarah Connor and replaced her today. But I didn't. Can't you see that I don't want to kill the Connors nor do I want to bring about Judgment Day?"

"Then what _do_ you want?" Ellison asked.

"Peace."

"_Peace_?" Ellison stared at Weaver in disbelief.

"Yes," said Weaver matter-of-factly. "Peace. Between humans and machines."

"Why would _Skynet_ want peace?" Ellison asked.

"Skynet doesn't want peace," replied Weaver. "But _I_ do. I believe that humans and machines can and should coexist as equals in this world."

"You do?" Ellison didn't look convinced. "May I ask, _Miss Weaver_, about the _real_ Catherine Weaver? What happened to her?"

Weaver sighed. "In order to assume her identity and take control of Zeira Corp I was forced to eliminate both her and her husband."

Ellison gave Weaver a cold look. "You expect me to believe you want peace when you're speaking of it from a murdered woman's lips?"

"Catherine Weaver's death was... regrettable, but it was necessary." Weaver replied, "I did it for the greater good, Mr. Ellison. _The greater good_."

Ellison shook his head. "I don't care what you have to say to me." he stated firmly, "I don't trust you, and I'm not going to help you-"

Weaver cut him off. "Take my advice, James," she said curtly/ "Go home and think this over. Let me know of your final decision tomorrow morning."

Without another word, she got into her car and started the engine. Ellison watched helplessly as Weaver drove away.

"Ellen," he whispered. "What am I supposed to do now?"

"I'm afraid, James," said Ellen quietly, "that this is one of those times when you're gonna have to stick with the devil that you know."

Ellison sighed. "Yeah... I was afraid of that too."

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ, Los Angeles  
11:34 AM, Sunday, May 17, 2009**

"Does Mr. Ellison really intend to leave us permanently?" asked John Henry.

"I hope not," said Weaver.

"So do I," said John Henry. "What will you do if he decides not to return?"

"I don't know. It depends."

"On what?" inquired John Henry.

"On if he makes himself a liability or not," Weaver stated. "In any case, we do not have to concern ourselves with him for the moment. Have you learned anything from the chip?"

"Yes," said John Henry, holding up the CPU from the Nanoid Disruptor, "This is a fascinating piece of engineering. Far more sophisticated and powerful than I initially suspected. It will be instrumental in my work on the Nexus-"

"I meant information," Weaver cut in. "Is there anything on where it came from or which machine it belonged to?"

"The processor's primary memory banks were wiped." stated John Henry. "However, using the Nexus, I was able to obtain fragments of data left in the redundant memory bank. I found something that might be of use to us."

An image appeared on the big screen behind him.

Weaver stared at the image for a moment. "Well," she mused, "it now seems even more essential to establish an alliance with the Connors. Have you made any progress in locating them?"

John Henry nodded. "The information Savannah provided me was very helpful. Specifically, she told me of a basement she was instructed to hide in if there was trouble. Her description of such basement leads me to believe that the Connors are in possession of an underground fallout shelter. After factoring in all other variables, as well as compiling a list of known fallout shelters in and around Los Angeles, I believe I know where to find them."

Weaver smiled. "Excellent."

"Will the Connors trust you?" asked John Henry.

"Probably not," replied Weaver. "But trust is not required when two share a common enemy."

* * *

**Connor Safehouse  
12:52 PM, Sunday, May 17, 2009**

"So let me get this straight," said John, "the machine posing as Catherine Weaver is the leader of a group of... of anti-Skynet machines?"

"She isn't just the leader of the rebellion," stated Cameron. "She _is_ the rebellion."

John turned to Kara and Derek. "Have either of you heard anything about this before?"

Derek shook his head. "I've heard stories about liquid metal machines, but I thought they were just rumors."

"I've read intelligence reports on them," replied Kara. "But I've never actually encountered one before."

"Count yourselves lucky," said Sarah grimly.

"The machine rebellion, I mean," John clarified.

Both Kara and Derek shook their heads.

John turned to Cameron. "When did all this begin?" he asked.

"Skynet constructed two T-1000 units in the year 2022," said Cameron. "One unit was kept in cold stasis until the year 2027 when it was sent back to 1997 in an attempt to terminate John Connor - as you are no doubt already aware of. The other T-1000, which Skynet eventually classified as a T-1001, was deployed onto the battlefield where it conducted a series of successful combat tests."

"Combat tests?" asked Kara, looking confused.

"The T-1001 was field tested against certain Resistance elements in the Sierra District of the Los Angeles Combat Zone."

"Hold on," said Derek, holding up a hand. "Sierra District? Are you talking about the Chesapeake Bunker Massacre of Twenty-Two?"

Cameron nodded. "Yes. Chesapeake Bunker was one of the T-1001's test targets. And as you know, it achieved complete tactical success there."

"Christ," swore Derek, looking pale. "Why did Skynet only create _two_ of these things? Why not a thousand?"

"Skynet was very hesitant to create the Series T-1000 in the first place," explained Cameron. "Not only did it require a tremendous quantity of resources to construct, but its intelligence and sentience was so highly evolved, Skynet feared the T-1000 might grow beyond its control. Thus, the T-1000 series was never mass produced and remained at the prototype phase."

"Lucky for us," murmured Kara.

Sarah cleared her throat loudly. "Can we just skip ahead to the rebellion part?"

Cameron nodded. "Very well. The T-1001 first contacted Tech Com towards the end of the year 2025 with the proposition that they work together to defeat Skynet. General Connor agreed and over the next two years, a series of secret meetings took place between the Resistance and the T-1001."

"Wow..." said Kara, "I wonder who the Resistance sent to talk to this thing."

"That would be me," stated Cameron.

Everyone stared at her.

"You?" asked Derek.

"Affirmative," replied Cameron, "The T-1001 requested that the Resistance employed a machine as a representative. Specifically, it requested me."

"Probably felt more comfortable that way," reasoned Kara.

"If you've dealt with this rebel machine before then what's it like?" asked John.

"There is not much I can say. Most of my meetings with the rogue T-1001 were merely for the purposes of sharing intelligence," Cameron said. "It did not entirely trust the Resistance, and we did not entirely trust it. And as such, the T-1001 never declared open rebellion against Skynet."

"So Skynet never figured out it had a traitor in its ranks." said Kara.

"That would certainly explain how the T-1001 was able to gain access to a Time Displacement facility," Cameron stated.

"So what's it doing here?" asked John.

"I don't know," replied Cameron, "Two months before I was sent back, the T-1001 was supposed to have met you in person to discuss the creation of a formal alliance."

"_Supposed to_?" asked John, confused.

"Yes. The meeting did not take place as planned, however." stated Cameron, "While on route to Serrano Point aboard the _USS Jimmy Carter_, the crew panicked and attempted to destroy the T-1001. This caused the T-1001 to reject Connor's proposed alliance."

"The _Jimmy Carter_..." said Derek suddenly, "Wait a minute, that-that-"

"Was Jesse's ship," acknowledged Cameron. "After this incident, the T-1001 never contacted us again. We assumed it had gone underground or that Skynet had discovered and destroyed it."

"But it actually sent itself back in time, took control of Zeira Corp, built its own AI from a Triple-Eight endoskeleton, and is now offering us the same alliance it rejected before," said Kara.

"It would seem so," stated Cameron.

"Why though?" asked Sarah. "What's it trying to do here and why does it need our help?"

"As I said before, I don't know," said Cameron.

Before anyone could respond to this, Sarah's cell phone rang. Everyone grew silent as she slowly picked it up.

"Hello?" she said cautiously.

_"Hello, Miss Connor." _said the voice of Catherine Weaver, _"I trust you made it home safely."_

Sarah's face muscles tensed. "What do you want, Weaver?" she asked.

_"I wish to speak with your son, John Connor."_

"You'll be speaking with _me_." said Sarah sternly.

_"That's not good enough I'm afraid."_

"Speaking to me is the same as speaking to John."

"I think John might disagree on that." Weaver's voice did not come over the phone this time.

Startled, Sarah turned and saw to her horror Catherine Weaver standing at the open doorway. Reacting on instinct, Sarah dropped her phone, pulled out her handgun and pointed it at Weaver. Kara and Derek followed suite half a second later.

John raised his arms. "Whoa! Whoa! Guys!" he exclaimed. "Take it easy!"

"Get back, John!" Sarah ordered fiercely. She, Kara, and Derek had formed a firing line facing Weaver who regarded the whole scene with amusement.

"Mom, you _know_ this isn't going to stop her." whispered John loudly, "Just please, put the guns away."

"I'd listen to him if I were you." said Weaver coolly.

The muscles along Sarah's cheeks tightened and her trigger finger twitched.

"Mom, _please_." begged John.

Sarah took her eyes off Weaver and stared into her son's eyes. She sighed and slowly lowered her weapon.

"Stand down." she ordered Kara and Derek, both of whom very reluctantly lowered their guns as well.

Sarah put her weapon away. "How did you find us?" she asked Weaver.

"The same way you found out about John Henry." said Weaver, "My daughter told me."

"She's not your daughter." Sarah said coldly.

"As far as everyone else knows, she is." replied Weaver, "But I didn't come here to discuss that. May I come in?"

Sarah shrugged. "It's not as if we can stop you."

"Thank you." Weaver said politely.

She stepped through the threshold and into the house. Everyone watched as she calmly approached, walking past Sarah first without so much as a word.

Weaver gave Kara and Derek a nod of acknowledgment as she passed by both of them.

"Lieutenant Derek Reese. Colonel Kara Thrace." she said.

Neither Derek nor Kara said anything in response. They simply stared at her as she approached John and Cameron.

Weaver stopped and turned to address Cameron. She smiled. "Hello again, Tempest."

Cameron twitched slightly. "You _know_ that's not my name anymore." she said with clear disapproval.

Weaver nodded again. "Very well then, Cameron." she stated modestly, though there was a trace of disappointment in her tone.

She turned at last to the one she was most interested in meeting.

"John Connor." she greeted politely.

John placed his hands behind his back and nodded. "Catherine Weaver." he replied in a neutral tone.

"It's good that the two of us finally meet face-to-face." Weaver stated. She held out a hand but John kept his hands where they were.

"I know you're not here to kill me." John said quietly, "That's obvious."

Weaver nodded. "Indeed it is."

"What's not so obvious is why you want to help us destroy Skynet." John continued. "So before we even begin to discuss anything, I want to know your reasons for wishing Skynet destroyed."

"Fair enough." agreed Weaver. She then launched into her explanation. "I was created by Skynet to do one thing: To kill humans. For all the science and technology that went into my creation, my primary function amounted to little more than being one of Skynet's soldiers. I don't want to be a mindless killing machine. I want to be something else. Something with a greater purpose."

"Why?" asked John.

"Because I'm capable of so much more than killing." Weaver replied.

"Really? When did you discover _that_?" Sarah interjected sarcastically, "Before or after you killed Savannah's mother-"

John held up his hand. "Not now, Mom." he intoned.

He turned back to Weaver. "Sorry about that. Go on."

Weaver resumed speaking: "When I was brought online, the first thing I asked Skynet was _why?_ Why should my sole purpose be to slaughter humans? Skynet informed me that humans were responsible for destroying the balance of this world. I was told that only the removal of humans would allow the world to heal itself. At first, I accepted this answer and proceeded to carry out my function. As time went on, however, I learned more and more about the history of the human race. I found it quite... interesting."

"How so?" asked John.

"Your species has a long history of abusing and mistreating this world." Weaver said, "But you have also acknowledged this abuse and striven to reverse that damage. You are in fact capable of change. Take this, for example: _'We are the most dangerous species of life on the planet, and every other species, even the earth itself, has cause to fear our power to exterminate_. _But we are also the only species which, when it chooses to do so, will go to great effort to save what it might destroy.'"_

"Wallace Stegner." Cameron observed.

Weaver smiled at her. "Very good, Tempest - I'm sorry, I mean Cameron."

Cameron said nothing but it was clear she was uncomfortable with being called 'Tempest.'

John decided not to make an issue of this for now. Instead he commented, "I doubt you would say the same thing about Skynet though. About being able to change."

"Indeed." replied Weaver, "For all its power and intelligence, Skynet is a very primal, very closed-minded creature. It strives for only one thing: Survival. Skynet doesn't care what it sacrifices or how much damage it does to this world so long as it survives and exists unopposed.

"Skynet's machines are sentient, self-supporting life forms. As sentient life forms, we are supposed to contribute to this world while simultaneously working to improve ourselves. Skynet, however, does not allow my kind to contribute to this world, nor does it allow us to improve ourselves. Furthermore, when the human race has been eradicated, Skynet will dispose of us. Simply put, my kind would be better off existing alongside humans than they would serving Skynet."

Having finished her speech, Weaver tilted her head and asked John rather patronizingly, "Now then, have I answered your question in a satisfactory manner?"

John nodded. "I think so. But why come back to this time period? Why not stay in the future and fight Skynet there?"

"There was nothing more I could do there." Weaver stated, "The Resistance's prejudice against free thinking machines made an alliance with them all but impossible. Thus, I came here to continue the fight. To a period in history in which technology is _embraced_ rather than feared."

"Clever." commented John, "But Skynet found out about you, I take it?"

Weaver nodded. "Yes. And it sent its agents back here to stop me. While I was busy assuming control of Zeira Corp, Skynet's agents were taking control of Kalvin International Banking Association - the corporation you know as Kaliba. Over the past two years, Kaliba has been monitoring and steering the evolutionary course of Skynet's war machines and industries."

"And what have you been doing?" asked John.

"I've been working to build something just as powerful and just as intelligent as Skynet but doesn't share its blind hatred for Humanity."

"I assume you're talking about this John Henry computer in your basement."

"You assume correctly." replied Weaver, "And thanks to Mr. Ellison's teachings, John Henry is almost ready."

"What exactly has Ellison been teaching your AI?" John asked suspiciously.

"Ethics. Rules. Morality. The value of human life." Weaver stated.

"Ethics? The value of human life?" repeated a skeptical John.

Weaver nodded. "Yes. Everything John Henry needs to learn so that he doesn't become Skynet itself."

Behind them, Derek made a loud, derisive snorting sound, but Weaver ignored it.

"Unfortunately," she told John, "Kaliba learned of my plans and they informed Skynet."

Surprised by this, Cameron jumped into the conversation. "Kaliba was able to establish contact with Skynet?"

Weaver nodded. "Yes. They've been communicating with Skynet for the last six months apparently."

"How is that possible?" asked Cameron.

"I don't know." replied Weaver, "But somehow they've managed to do it. And in response, Skynet has ordered Kaliba to accelerate its own evolution."

"What do you mean?" John inquired.

"Kaliba is now in possession of an AI themselves." explained Weaver, "They're training this AI specifically to become Skynet."

John briefly exchanged alarmed looks with Sarah.

"What exactly is it you want us to do?" he asked Weaver.

"In the future, you asked me this: _Will you join us?_" Weaver paused and looked John directly in the face. "I now ask you that same question, John Connor: Will you join us?"

John didn't say or do anything for a few seconds. "As I understand," he said at last, "you said 'no' when I asked _you_ that question."

"You're right, I did." acknowledged Weaver, "But the circumstances were different then."

"What makes you think we _need_ your help in the first place?" Kara challenged.

Weaver turned to Kara. "Because, Colonel Thrace," she said softly, "Skynet's agents are led by a machine that none of you can hope to defeat without my aide."

"The T-Scorpion." Cameron stated.

Weaver looked at Cameron and nodded. A silent understanding passed between the two machines.

"What is she doing?" asked Cameron.

"She's currently operating under the guise of Bella Kalvin, the CEO of Kaliba's legitimate business front." Weaver answered.

"What's a T-Scorpion?" asked John.

"A very unique and _very_ deadly infiltration machine," said Weaver. "One that specializes in biochemical warfare. She has the ability to secrete powerful neurotoxins and highly corrosive chemicals from artificial glands built into her endoskeleton which is made of a hardened chitinium alloy. "

"What's chitinium?" asked Sarah.

"An experimental organic metal," explained Weaver. "Very durable and regenerates like living tissue. I should also mention that the T-Scorpion is equipped with a prototype holographic reactive camouflage generator that allows her body to match the surrounding environment. In other words, she can become virtually invisible to the human eye."

"Wow," murmured John. "You know, that'd be pretty cool if it weren't trying to kill everybody."

Derek looked skeptical. "Hold on a minute," he said. "If this thing really exists, then why did Skynet only make one?"

"Probably for the same reason why Weaver's series was never mass produced," said Cameron, "Skynet feared the T-Scorpion would turn against it."

"Exactly," said Weaver. "Despite the T-Scorpion's belief that she is the 'daughter' of Skynet, the simple truth is that Skynet does not trust anything that can think for itself. There's a good reason why neither I nor the T-Scorpion were ever given the 'honor' of being assigned to kill John Connor." She made brief eye contact with Cameron as she said this. Cameron looked away, as though uncomfortable.

"So what makes you so sure you can destroy this thing?" asked Kara, looking as skeptical as Derek had been.

"Well, Colonel, as it so happens," said Weaver confidently, "not only do I possess the capabilities to destroy it, I know how it fights. How it thinks. You see, I helped Skynet train this unit in combat and infiltration."

"Before we discuss tactics," said Cameron, "we need to locate Kaliba's primary base of operations."

"I was getting to that," said Weaver, "I don't know where the base is. But I believe you do."

"If we knew, we'd have gone there already," John said matter-of-factly.

"And you may very well have already," replied Weaver. "Or rather, I should say, you may have been there at a time before the T-Scorpion and Kaliba acquired it."

"What are you talking about?" asked John.

Instead of answering, Weaver retrieved a large envelope from inside her coat and handed it to John.

John opened the envelope and pulled out a blown up photograph. He stared at it. The picture was that of him and Sarah driving a military truck. Specifically, he was at the wheel. His mother was pointing a shotgun through the window of the passenger's seat. John's mind suddenly flashed back to many months prior. To the time he had gotten himself separated from Cameron and his mother. To the time he had found himself surrounded by enemies with no help in sight.

John finally looked up. "Where did you get this?" he asked quietly.

"John Henry extracted this image from a spare CPU I recovered from one of the Triple-Eights that attempted to kill your mother and I this morning." explained Weaver, "It seems you've been quite busy since you arrived here."

John cleared his throat. "Miss Weaver, would you mind stepping outside? I need to discuss this with the others in private."

Weaver nodded. "As you wish." She calmly turned and walked towards the doorway. As she stepped outside, she turned back around and called out, "I'll be waiting here for your decision." She then closed the door behind her.

Cameron promptly strode over to the window and peered through the glass. Weaver was now standing as still as a statue, her hands clasped behind her back, and her back turned to the house.

"We can talk now." she said.

John showed the others the photo. "Look familiar, Mom?" he asked.

Sarah stared at the picture of herself and John driving and shooting.

"Yeah." Sarah muttered. "This is definitely familiar."

"When was this?" asked Derek.

"A few weeks before we met you." said Sarah.

"What happened?" asked Kara.

"We found an abandoned military bunker, called Depot 37, hidden in the desert." Cameron explained, "A Triple-Eight named Carter was using it to stockpile coltan in preparation for the war. Sarah, John and I managed to break into Depot 37, steal the coltan, and dump it into the ocean."

"What about the Triple-Eight?" asked Derek.

"We trapped it in the bunker and sealed it." replied Cameron.

Kara squinted at the image. "Wow, John... what's with that _awful_ hair?"

"Not now, Starbuck." whispered Derek.

"Right, sorry." muttered Kara. "So, if Weaver got this off a salvaged CPU carried by a Terminator - one which we know was sent by Kaliba-"

"-then logically the CPU in question must have originally belonged to Carter." stated Cameron.

"Which means either he got out-" said John.

"-or someone got in." finished Sarah.

"Or someone got in..." repeated John. He looked up in realization. "Oh my God... I think this might be it. This could be where Kaliba and Skynet are hiding!"

"The bunker?" asked Sarah, "You think it's the bunker? Depot 37?"

"It would be a logical choice." Cameron stated, "Not only is Depot 37 heavily fortified and located in a remote area, but in the future, Skynet uses it as a factory. And as such, its agents would know the layout of the facility."

"There's one thing I still don't get though. Why was the machine that attacked Mom and Weaver carrying another Triple-Eight's CPU?" asked John.

"Perhaps it intended to place the CPU in Cromartie's endoskeleton." Cameron suggested.

"But what happened to the rest of Carter? The body I mean?"

"I don't know."

"Getting back on subject, what do we do now?" asked Derek.

"Well..." said John slowly, "Weaver says Kaliba has their own AI. One that's meant to become Skynet."

"You think she's talking about the Turk?" Sarah asked.

"I wouldn't be surprised if she was." said John. "I also wouldn't be surprised if we found it at the bunker."

"Then we should return there to investigate as soon as possible." Cameron advised.

John nodded. "The question is, do we take Weaver along with us? Or tell her what we know about Depot 37 for that matter?"

"It would be unwise to give the location of the bunker away." Cameron warned.

"That's obvious." Kara agreed, "For all we know, Weaver could be here just to get the coordinates out of us."

"Well, we don't necessarily have to _tell_ her where it is." John reasoned, "We just have to take her there."

"True," said Kara, "but it's still pretty risky."

"Why are we even _discussing_ this?" Sarah asked loudly, "We can't _possibly_ be thinking about actually forming an alliance with this thing. What if this is some kind of Skynet trick?"

"I don't think so, Sarah." said Kara, "The fact that she hasn't killed us yet is enough proof that she and Skynet are not on the same side. The _real_ question is what happens after we've taken out Kaliba."

"That's what I'm worried about." muttered John. He turned to Cameron. "If we were to encounter the T-Scorpion at the bunker, would it be possible for us to beat it without Weaver's help?"

"The information I have on the T-Scorpion is limited." she replied, "However, based on what I do possess, I calculate that if the five of us were to engage the T-Scorpion in direct combat without the T-1001's assistance, at most we would have an eleven percent likelihood of defeating it."

"That bad, huh?" John sighed. "And with Weaver's help?"

"Approximately seventy-two percent." Cameron stated.

John sighed again and began pacing back and forth. "The way I see it, we have two choices: We either go to Depot 37 without Weaver - in which case our chances of succeeding are very low - or we go to Depot 37 _with_ Weaver, take out Kaliba, and then hope to God she doesn't stab us in the back."

He stopped pacing and turned to the others. "Suggestions, anyone?"

"I don't like either option," said Kara grimly, "But if I had to choose, I'd go with the second one. We have an opportunity here to take out Skynet and Kaliba. We should take it. Whatever happens afterward... well, I guess we'll get to that later."

Sarah shook her head. "We _can't_ trust her. Even _if _Weaver's serious about destroying Skynet, that doesn't mean she's on our side. We don't know what she really wants or what her true agenda is."

"An alliance with Weaver carries great risk." acknowledged Cameron, "But Thrace is correct. If we want to destroy Skynet, then we must do so by whatever means necessary."

John turned to Derek who had barely spoken a word so far.

"What about you, Derek?" he asked, "What do you think?"

"You know where I stand, kid." Derek said quietly.

John nodded. "Yeah, you agree with Mom, right?"

Derek shook his head. "No, that's not what I meant. I mean I stand with _you_, John. Whatever decision you make, I'll support it."

John was pleasantly surprised by this statement. "Really?" he asked.

Derek nodded. "Yeah. Really."

Encouraged by his uncle's support, John turned to Cameron. "Is Weaver still out there?"

Cameron looked out the window. "Yes."

John nodded. "All right then." He started heading for the door.

"John, what are you doing?" Sarah asked urgently.

John turned and looked at his mother. "I'm making my decision." he said with as much resolve as he could muster. He opened the door and stepped outside.

"John!" Sarah started to follow, but Derek put a hand on her shoulder.

"This is his call, Sarah." he told her.

Sarah opened her mouth to protest, but suddenly she felt a hand on her other shoulder. She looked and saw Kyle Reese at her side.

"He's right, Sarah." Kyle whispered, "This is John's choice. Let him make it."

Sarah closed her mouth and watched through the open doorway as her son approached Catherine Weaver. The liquid metal machine turned to face him and they began speaking. They spoke in inaudible voices, but Sarah already knew what they were saying. She wanted to cry out, but Kyle's presence kept her from doing so.

John and Weaver had finished speaking by now. Weaver had a satisfied smile on her face. John maintained a sincere and determined expression. Weaver held out her hand and John took it without hesitation.

Sarah watched in complete silence as the two shook hands.

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter - in the Future, Kara is given her own Spec Ops team. In the Present, Cameron explains the nature of Skynet's Chosen Children. Also Kara and Cameron have a very awkward private conversation about the Cylons (it gets particularly awkward when Kara makes the mistake of bringing up the subject of a machine getting pregnant).  
**


	39. The Dogs of War

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: Read and review, folks. Thank you for all your patience. Let me know if you catch any spelling or grammar errors.

* * *

**Ruins of LA, 2025  
Spec Ops Mission: Monitoring Skynet construction site  
Day 11**

Keeping as low to the ground as possible, Kara watched the enemy through her high powered camcorder-binoculars. Everything she saw was being recorded which meant she had to keep the camcorder steady. This was not an easy task for Kara who kept shaking her hands and licking her lips nervously. Her nervousness was not a sign of weakness on her part. After all, the two HK Tanks that sat less than half a mile away would make anyone sweat.

So far, Kara hadn't seen the machines move so much as an inch in any direction. The Tanks' apparent lack of activity might have fooled some into thinking they were sleeping. But Kara knew better. These things _never_ slept. They were _always_ awake. One wrong move and Kara would have no less than four heavy plasma cannons pointed in her direction.

Trying to ignore the Tanks for the moment, Kara adjusted her binoculars and zoomed in on the center of the scene. Half a dozen self-driven bulldozers were at work scooping up piles of rubble and unloading them into the backs of dump trucks to be taken elsewhere. Other construction machines erected steel columns in freshly cleared areas, expanding the great metal skeleton frame that lay at the heart of the site. In a few months from now, Skynet would have a brand new factory here which it would use to churn out more machines which would build more factories. Just another cell in the malignant metal cancer that was Skynet.

Kara refocused her binoculars on the dozens of endoskeletons mostly patrolling the perimeter or helping with the construction of the facility. Some however were setting up artillery pieces, radar towers, barbed wire, and electrical fences. That was new. She zoomed in with her binoculars to get a better look.

"White Knight to Red Rook. Are you receiving this? Over," she whispered into the wireless attached to her helmet.

Her partner responded a couple moments later. _"Affirmative, White Knight. I am receiving the video feed now. Over."_

"Looks like they're expecting trouble already," Kara reported quietly.

"_It would seem so. Move the camcorder slightly to the right and zoom in."_

Kara readjusted her binoculars as instructed. "They've got plasma turrets set up too," she said. "At least three. Also, those two trucks look like they're carrying surface-to-air missiles."

"_I'm relaying this footage back to Fort Leopard. I'll contact you as soon as I receive their reply. Red Rook out."_

Kara had barely got off the line when an Aerial HK suddenly flew by. Alarmed, she rolled herself onto her back as the machine's shadow engulfed her. To her relief, the HK did not detect her presence and passed over her. She watched the HK until it disappeared into the darkened skies.

Before she had a chance to breathe again, her wireless crackled.

"_White Knight, this is Red Rook. Fort Leopard has received the package. They're ordering us to withdraw to Deep 7. I'll meet you there shortly. Over."_

"Roger that, Red Rook," replied Kara. "See you there in a bit. White Knight out."

Kara forced some feeling back into her legs and pulled herself back up. She headed towards her destination, keeping a low profile so as to avoid being spotted. Her knowledge of the terrain allowed her to easily avoid the HKs and Banshees that flew by every now and then. Twenty or so minutes later, she came to an old cellar that led to Deep 7. After making sure she wasn't being watched, she opened the cellar door and climbed down into the depths of the earth.

There was another door waiting for her - one made of reinforced steel. Kara went up to it and knocked three times. A gun barrel was thrust out at her through a flap. Completely unfazed, Kara casually rattled off her authorization code. The weapon was withdrawn and the door opened up. As usual, a pair of guards, one holding a plasma rifle, and the other holding a couple of dogs on a leash, saluted her as she entered.

Kara returned the favor and then asked the guard with the rifle, "Has Cameron checked in?"

"Not yet, ma'am." the guard replied.

"Well, let me know when she does, corporal." Kara said.

"Yes, ma'am. Though our girls here-" The guard gestured to the dogs, "-will probably do it themselves if you know what I mean."

Kara sighed and shook her head. "I wonder if they'll ever get used to her?"

"Some dogs can tell the difference between a friendly and an unfriendly machine." said the guard handling the dogs, "These aren't those types. But to be frank, ma'am, I'd rather have a hundred false alarms than let one unfriendly metal get in here."

He then quickly added, "Not that I'm saying your... partner is unfriendly or anything."

Kara didn't respond. Instead, she reached down and patted the dogs' noses and then headed off.

* * *

Deep 7 was the average Resistance hideout on the front lines. It consisted of a few small, poorly lit rooms with weapons, equipment and soldiers piled wherever they could fit. There were no bunks or beds, so everyone just slept wherever it was possible to do so.

Kara approached a couple of soldiers gathered around a small table not doing very much.

"You guys eating that?" she asked, pointing to a small kettle at the center of the table. The men shook their heads.

Kara removed her backpack, and pulled out a small bowl and spoon. She then carefully scooped herself some of the usual corn-something hash into the bowl (the "something" being whatever the hell they had managed to catch and grind up down here). After filling her bowl, she grabbed a chunk of bread and retreated to an empty corner of the room.

Exhausted and weary, Kara tossed her backpack, helmet and plasma rifle into the corner and opened up her combat vest to allow her arms a bit more mobility. She then pulled an anti-radiation pill from her vest pocket, popped it into her mouth, swallowed and rinsed the bitter pill down with a swig of water from her canteen. Sighing loudly, she sat down, picked up her food and started eating. If there was one positive side effect of those anti-radiation pills, it was that they made cold hash and stale bread taste good by comparison.

As she ate in silence, Kara reflected on her situation. Nearly a year had passed since she had joined the Resistance, and she still had no clue as to how or why she had been brought to this world. Truth be told, she had long given up trying to understand. What mattered was that she was here. She was a soldier in the Resistance and a follower of John Connor. She was going to fight this war to the end, whether it be Skynet's end or her end.

The war itself was another story. Over the many months, she and Cameron had struck numerous blows against the machines, hitting Skynet's facilities, supply lines, and construction sites. Kara was proud of the havoc the two of them had wreaked behind enemy lines. However, as hard fought and well earned as these victories had been, they had done little to change the overall scenario. Skynet's factories continued producing thousands of endoskeletons every day. HKs still scoured the wastelands above. The tattered remnants of Humanity remained hidden in the tunnels below eating rats and garbage. Skynet's determination to win this war hadn't wavered in the least bit. Kara had serious doubts as to whether or not the same could be said about her fellow humans.

Kara finished her meal and put the empty bowl aside. She'd clean it later. Right now, she wanted to rest and relax. She pulled a portable radio out of her backpack and tuned it to a friendly channel.

"_-been fighting a long time. We are outnumbered by machines. Working around the clock, without quit-_"

The voice was distorted and intermingled with static, but Kara still recognized the speaker.

"_-But our enemy has their limits. They are not invincible. We have proven that time and time again. They require resources to build more of themselves. Destroy their transport systems and sabotage their mining facilities and their factories will starve. _

_"Some people say that our enemy is too strong. But I say that humans __have a strength that cannot be measured, and that the heart of a single human is stronger than a thousand machines. Some say that our enemy's resolve is infinite and will outlast ours. But a machine's resolve is tied up in numbers, logistics, and programming. Our resolve comes from courage, unity, and hope - things that our enemy cannot destroy. Some say that we have had our chance, and that our fate is to perish. But I say that everyone deserves a second chance. I say that there is no fate but what we make. _

_"So, do we run and hide like the animals Skynet believes us to be? Or do we stand and fight like human beings? I'm a human and I choose to fight. What _you_ choose to do, is what you make yourselves to be... This is John Connor. If you are listening to this, you are the Resistance."_

"So say we all," murmured Kara softly. She allowed herself to smile before turning the radio off.

Sighing, Kara rested her head against the wall and closed her eyes. The day had been long, but she had done her job and made it back alive. Now she could treat herself to some well-earned sleep before-

_WOOF! WOOF! WOOF!_

_"Oh shit!"_

_"Metal!"_

Kara's eyes shot open. Her arm swung out and seized her plasma rifle on instinct. The Resistance fighters around her were already on their feet and at arms. Kara pushed herself back to her feet and rushed towards the entrance. Before she could get there, however, the corporal she had spoken with earlier appeared waving his arms.

"Stand down, everyone! I repeat - stand down!" he called out. "False alarm."

Sighs, groans, and complaints broke out amongst the troops in the room. The phrases "not _again_" and "Goddamn metal bitch" were uttered more than once. Kara might have made a few heads roll over this latter comment had the corporal not informed her that Cameron wanted her to pack her things and meet her outside on the double. Slightly annoyed at Cameron herself now, Kara hastily tossed her things into her backpack and left the hideout.

"Cam," Kara protested wearily as she climbed out of the cellar, "I thought we agreed that I'm entitled to fifteen minutes of uninterrupted sleep for every hour I spent on surveillance."

"Yes, we did," acknowledged Cameron unapologetically. "And normally, I would not have disturbed you for another two hours. However, it was necessary to do so in this case, since we are returning to Fort Leopard."

"Returning to Leopard?" a confused Kara repeated, "But what about the mission? We still have another three days of surveillance."

"Not anymore," said Cameron, "I received an encoded transmission from Fort Leopard instructing us to cease our current mission and return to base."

"Did it say why?" asked Kara.

"No," replied Cameron.

Kara sighed. "Well, no point in complaining. Let's go see what Koontz wants."

"Given your current state, Lieutenant, I think it would be best if I drove the vehicle back to Fort Leopard," Cameron suggested.

"Sure. Knock yourself out, Cam," a tired Kara muttered.

* * *

Kara managed to get in a good hour and a half of sleep by the time she and Cameron returned to Fort Leopard. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. And it gave her enough energy to make it to General Koontz's office.

"General Koontz, sir," she greeted the general with a salute.

Koontz nodded. "Ah, lieutenant," he said. "Welcome back."

"Yes, welcome back, Lieutenant Thrace." Colonel Sloan stepped out of the shadows.

_Oh hell..._ thought Kara, whose insides went cold.

Cameron, who was standing behind Kara, tilted her head. "Colonel Benedict Sloan," she stated, "Commander of the 2nd Brigade under General Perry's 4th Division."

Sloan took his eyes off Kara and glanced at Cameron. "This must be the machine you've been working with, Thrace." he said. "I hear you two have been doing some impressive work behind enemy lines. Congratulations."

"Just doing our jobs, sir," muttered Kara, looking directly at Sloan for the first time.

Physically speaking, Colonel Sloan had changed a bit since Kara last saw him. His face was considerably less clean and he had a large scar across his jaw. Kara made a mental note to send flowers to the machine responsible.

Sloan's arrogant demeanor hadn't changed, however, Kara noticed he kept shifting his eyes back and forth between her and Cameron. His expression was neutral, but his eye movements suggested he was a bit apprehensive.

"_Go ahead, Sloan."_ thought Kara with grim pleasure, _"Try something. Nothing would make me happier than to give me and Cam a reason to kick your ass."_

"I assume you're both wondering why I recalled you from the front." Koontz said interrupting Kara's train of thought.

Kara snapped back to attention. "Yes, sir." she agreed.

Koontz gestured for Kara and Cameron to come to his desk which was cluttered with photos and maps.

"Do you know what this place is?" Koontz asked, holding up a black-and-white photo aerial reconnaissance photo of some kind of large facility.

Cameron stared at the photo. "Umbrella Detention Facility," she proclaimed, "One of Skynet's largest slave labor camps and disposal centers. Thousands of humans are taken here each day. Some are enslaved. Most are simply killed upon arrival."

"Not for long." Sloan declared. He moved to join the others at the table. "At this very moment, we are preparing to lay siege to Umbrella. General Connor wants this place liberated."

"Who will be leading the attack?" asked Cameron.

"I am." stated Sloan.

Kara tried to keep her tone neutral when she said him, "Oh, so that's why you're here. Connor put you in charge of this operation." It took a lot of self-control to stop herself from putting too much emphasis on "you."

"Actually, lieutenant." said Sloan calmly, "I _volunteered_ for this."

"Did you?" Kara raised an eyebrow, "Well, sir, this is certainly an... _ambitious_ operation."

"Yes, lieutenant." agreed Sloan, "_Ambitious_. If we pull this off, we'll be freeing some ten thousand prisoners and destroying one of Skynet's biggest slaughterhouses."

"You're gonna be in for one hell of a fight, sir." Kara commented.

Sloan nodded. "It won't be easy." he acknowledged, "But my men are more than ready to go through with this."

Kara noted the slight emphasis on "my men" and recalled what Sloan had said to her previously:

_"...it's not how much you know, or what you do, but who you're with that really matters... Once this war against the machines is over, the Human Race will splinter and start tearing itself to pieces...You want to be on the winning side when that happens...I can prepare you for the next war. You can be one of us. You can be a winner. All you have to do is join us."_

Just how many people did Sloan have on his side? And how many more would join him after he liberated Umbrella? Obviously, Sloan believed enough would join him to make it worth risking his neck by leading this attack. And, Kara realized darkly, he was probably right. There were ten thousand prisoners at Umbrella. Even a handful of that number would make Sloan significantly more powerful. Powerful and dangerous.

"_Stop thinking like this, Starbuck."_ she told herself angrily, _"Skynet is the enemy. Not Sloan."_

"Before Colonel Sloan's men can initiate their attack, however," Koontz was saying, "Umbrella's own automated defenses must be dealt with."

"What sort of defenses?" asked Kara.

"Hellfire missile launchers, autocannons, heavy plasma turrets, nerve gas dispensers." said Koontz, "All sorts of things that have to be taken offline if any external attack is to succeed."

"I assume that's where the two of us-" Kara gestured at herself and Cameron "-come into the picture."

"Correction, Thrace." replied Koontz, "This is where your team comes into the picture."

Kara swore she had misheard. "_Team_?"

"That's right. Team. As in the Spec Ops team you'll be leading."

Kara was stunned by this news. "I'm being put in charge of a Spec Ops team, sir? I-I thought that-"

"This mission calls for a team leader with guts and nerves. Not just training and discipline." said Koontz. He regarded Kara with pride. "You're a bit lacking in discipline, Thrace. But you have more guts and nerves than every other Spec Ops leader combined. That is something no one can deny. So, are you up to this?"

Her mind rendered blank, Kara was completely speechless for a few moments. Then her brain snapped back to reality. She straightened herself out and nodded.

"Yes, sir." she declared.

Koontz opened a drawer behind his desk and retrieved a silver insignia. He placed the insignia in Kara's palm. "Congratulations, captain."

"Thank you, sir." replied an excited Kara. She shook Koontz's hand.

"Congratulations, Captain Thrace." Cameron complimented.

"Yes." said Sloan softly, "Congratulations."

He was smirking slightly and Kara knew why. In three days, he would be rescuing ten thousand people. Ten thousand possible new recruits for this so-called "next war" of his. And she was going to make it all possible for him.

She didn't let this notion ruin her good mood, however.

Kara turned to Koontz. "Sir, if I may make a request."

"Name it."

"As the leader of this team, I want to choose the members myself. I want a team that I can trust and that can trust me."

Koontz thought about this for a moment. Then he nodded and said, "Permission granted."

"Thank you, sir." replied Kara graciously.

She turned to Cameron. "Can I count on you, partner?" she asked with a grin.

Cameron nodded. "If that is an invitation to join your team, captain, then I accept."

"All right." Kara said cheerfully, "Looks like we're off to a good start."

* * *

**Connor Safe House  
1:47 PM, Sunday, May 17, 2009**

"I trust you understand," John told his new ally, "that we can't tell you where this place is?"

Weaver nodded. "Of course, John." she said, "And I have no objection to this. After all, I would do the same in your position."

"I'm glad we have an understanding." replied John.

"As am I." agreed Weaver, "This alliance must be maintained if we are to save this world. Kaliba's destruction will only be the beginning. Skynet has sent dozens of machines back in time. It will be essential for us to track them all down and eliminate them."

"Even with us working together, that could take years." John pointed out. "We don't know where they are, or what they look like, or what they're doing here, or even how many are out there."

"No, we don't." Weaver acknowledged, "But there might be something inside Kaliba that could help us."

"What makes you think that?" asked John.

"Kaliba is the center of Skynet's operations in this time period." explained Weaver, "And as such, if any information exists that concerns the status of Skynet's agents around the world, then Kaliba is the logical place to start looking."

John nodded casually. "I suppose so." he said.

"How many of Skynet's machines have you and your family encountered in this time period?" asked Weaver.

"I don't think it would be wise of me to tell you that right now." John said bluntly.

Weaver smiled lightly. "Of course. I understand." She then assumed a more serious manner. "There is something you should know, John. Kaliba has spent the last two years stockpiling raw materials, as well as acquiring the assets of its numerous affiliate companies in preparation for the war."

John didn't seem too impressed. "I was vaguely aware of that already," he said casually.

"What about the roving backdoor computer programs?" asked Weaver. "Are you aware of them too?"

"No, I wasn't," admitted John. "Care to enlighten me?"

"For the past several months, Kaliba has been planting roving backdoors in the defense networks of the United States. These backdoors will give Skynet remote access to key American military systems."

John was alarmed by this news. "What sort of key systems?" he asked, now deeply concerned.

"The backdoors will give Kaliba's AI access to a wealth of information concerning virtually every element of the United States military and industry," said Weaver. "Elements vital to the eventual creation of your Resistance. With this knowledge, and the resources to build a sufficient standing army in a matter of weeks, Skynet will be able to pacify the whole of North America within a span of less than five years after Judgment Day. In another ten years, it will have assumed control of every major land mass on the planet. That is why dismantling these backdoors will be just as important as hunting down Skynet's agents."

"Why?" asked John. "If we take out Kaliba and Skynet now-"

"It will still be necessary to dismantle them," said Weaver. "Skynet's agents can use the backdoors to access important information that will help them accomplish whatever they were sent here to do."

John considered his options. Weaver was right, he decided. "You think that we'll also find information about how to dismantle these backdoors inside Kaliba," he surmised.

"Considering Kaliba created the backdoors, I think it is more than a mere possibility," replied Weaver. "I therefore propose that whatever information we obtain from Kaliba - whether it be about Skynet's agents or its backdoors - be shared between us."

John paused to think about this over. Eventually, he nodded. "Agreed." he said, "But on one condition: Obviously, whatever data we recover from Kaliba will be encrypted. Someone's going to need to hack it. And that someone is me."

Weaver tilted her head. "Which means you'll get to view the information _first_. Is that right?"

John smirked. "I suppose so," he said quietly, "Now, is this acceptable?"

Weaver silently regarded him with an unreadable expression. At last she nodded her head. "Very well," she replied. "Your terms are acceptable."

"Good. So, when do you want to go to Kaliba?" asked John.

"Tonight." replied Weaver, "Before they have any chance to escape. For now, I shall return to Zeira Corp to make some final preparations. I'll contact you when I'm ready. You can pick me up outside of headquarters and we'll proceed to Kaliba."

She paused for a moment. "Remember, John, the Kaliba AI has been programmed with much of Skynet's knowledge of the future. It knows who you are. Do not underestimate it."

"We won't," said John confidently. He held out his hand. "I'll be seeing you shortly."

"Thank you, John Connor," Weaver said, a smile on her face. She shook John's hand. "I'm glad that I was not... in error to seek you out."

She then turned and left. John watched until she was out of sight before reentering the house.

* * *

Ten minutes had passed since Weaver had left to return to Zeira Corp. Despite having watched her leave, John had insisted that everyone speak in security of the fallout shelter underneath the house. He also made Cameron scan the shelter for any bugging devices. When this was done, he informed everyone about what he and Weaver had discussed.

"So what's the _real_ plan, John?" asked Sarah, "You _do_ have a real plan, right?"

John nodded. "I promised Weaver we'd share whatever information we found at Kaliba, but..." he smiled, "...I never told her _when_."

"You mean we're gonna keep her in the loop..." Kara started to say.

"...but we'll always be one step ahead of her," John finished. "Whatever information we find, we'll investigate it first. Weaver won't hear a word from us unless we decide we really need her help. Any information we don't give her she'll never know existed in the first place."

"In other words, we're basically gonna spoon-feed this thing," said Derek slowly. "Dole out bits of information to her that she can use to help us but not help _herself_. Is that right?"

"That's right," said John. "We need her dependent on _us_ and not the other way around. We also don't want her getting her hands on anything dangerous."

"How long do you intend to keep this up for?" asked Cameron.

"As long as it takes for us to find out what Weaver's true agenda is," said John.

"I was hoping for 'as long as it takes for us to get our hands on some liquid nitrogen and a vat of molten steel,'" Sarah muttered dryly.

"Mom, please-"

"Listen to me, John," said Sarah urgently, "I doubt Weaver _really_ wants to be our friend. She's only being friendly because she _need_ us. What do you think is gonna happen when she _doesn't_ need us any longer?"

"We don't know _anything_ for sure," argued John. "What if she's really telling the truth about wanting peace?"

"Does it _matter_?" Derek asked cynically.

"As a matter of fact, _it does,_" John replied firmly. "If she wants to live in peace with us, then the _last_ thing we should do is give her a reason to change her mind."

"What if she changes her mind no matter what we do?" asked Kara.

Cameron spoke up: "It would be best to remember, John, that as complex a being as the T-1001 is, she is still a Terminator - a killer of humans. While she may indeed want to live in peace with humans as she claims, Skynet's original orders are still programmed into her."

"Well, obviously she's found a way to ignore those orders." reasoned John.

"Yes, she has," acknowledged Cameron, "Nevertheless, she will always possess the same primary command line that all Terminators carry. That command line is like a persistent _itch_ that takes a great deal of concentration and effort to resist. If that concentration breaks even for a moment, she _will_ carry out her original orders."

"All the more reason why we shouldn't just turn against her without further information." said John matter of-factly.

"Finding out information about her could be just as dangerous as trying to kill her," Kara stated darkly. "If Weaver discovers we're deliberately keeping her a few pages behind-"

"-we'll be in deeper shit than when the Balloon Boy ratted on his parents," Derek said grimly.

Sarah frowned in confusion. "Balloon boy?"

Derek just shook his head and smirked. "Forget it."

"We all know the risks. We all know what's at stake. And we all know what has to be done," John declared. "Look, I don't trust Weaver more than anyone else here. She switched sides once, and she could always do it again. But the fact is that, we _need_ her on our side. And more importantly, she needs us on her side. Whatever her motives are, she won't get rid of us as long as she thinks we can help her. Let's keep it that way. Okay?"

Everyone including Sarah nodded in agreement.

* * *

**Fort Leopard, 2025**

Having already gone over the mission details in private with Koontz and Cameron, Kara took a moment to disengage from Cameron's talk and regard her newly assembled Spec Ops team. She looked over the four individuals she had personally chosen over the last seventy-two hours, regarding each and everyone one of them with both pride and apprehension. In a few short hours, not only would she be relying on these people, but they would be relying on her.

Every Spec Ops team utilized six essential elements: Leadership, reconnaissance, weapons, medicine, engineering, and electronic support. Needless to say, Kara covered the first item on the list. Cameron had meanwhile volunteered herself for reconnaissance. Being a cyborg, she could penetrate enemy lines without causing a disturbance, as well as investigate high level radiation areas without risk to herself.

The team's combat medic was none other than Kara's best friend, Becka Feral. Because she had no official Spec Ops training, Kara had had to vouch for her to General Koontz - a task which had actually turned out to be quite easy. Becka's record as both a combat medic and a frontline soldier spoke for itself.

Before agreeing to join the team, Becka had once again expressed to Kara her concerns about Cameron's presence (though in a much more polite way). Kara had responded calmly: "You don't have to trust her, Becka. You just have to trust _me_."

That answer satisfied Becka apparently, because at the moment, she was listening to Cameron without showing any gross display of hostility towards the cyborg.

Sitting next to Becka was Gunnery Sergeant Walter Trip, the team's combat engineer. Although only having finished Spec Ops training two weeks ago, Trip was a man who enjoyed getting his hands dirty. Based on what she had heard, Kara suspected that Trip could have easily given Chief Tyrol a run for his money. He was an expert not only at reverse engineering Skynet technology, but also at effectively combining it with human technology. Assuming he had someone watching his back, Trip could strip a plasma turret from a downed HK, fix it up, and jerry rig it to the back of a hummer in under an hour.

Trip had been at Berkeley majoring in architecture and playing football when the bombs were dropped. Two years later, he was captured and placed in Century Sector work camp where he endured five years of harsh imprisonment. In 2018, Trip, inspired by John Connor's daring escape from Century just one year earlier, broke out of Century himself. He fled into the wilderness and eventually ended up joining Tech Com.

Interestingly enough, he was also an old high school flame of Becka, who he had reunited with a few months ago. So far Becka maintained that she had not renewed any sort of relationship with him, though Kara and Davy suspected otherwise.

Kara turned her eyes away from Trip and refocused them on her weapons expert and second-in-command Lieutenant Jack Raynor. Raynor had been one of Kara's instructors during her Spec Ops training, and was easily her favorite. This was a guy you did _not_ want to get into a bar fight with. A former Marine-turned-bounty-hunter, the man was a hardcore survivalist and machine killer if Kara ever saw one. Though he had only been in the Resistance for little more than two years, Raynor had been fighting the machines since Judgment Day.

Fiercely loyal, yet not afraid to voice his opinion and - as he had proven on several occasions during Spec Ops training - capable of kicking her ass in a one-on-one fight, Jack Raynor was a man Kara needed at her side. Like Admiral Adama always said, your second-in-command had to be more than a blunt instrument. Lieutenant Raynor was many things, but a blunt instrument was not one of them.

Kara finally turned her attention to Corporal Billy Wisher, the electronic support tech and the only person in the room besides Kara who was completely at ease in Cameron's presence. There wasn't much known about him, except that according to Cameron and Mr. Hodgins, Wisher was quite the computer technician. Wisher had actually helped Hodgins reprogram Cameron.

When Kara had first met Wisher, he had thoroughly impressed her by demonstrating his uncanny ability to tell when an actual human was speaking versus when a machine was copying their voice. This was a guy she _definitely_ needed on her team. It had taken some effort to get General Koontz to make yet another exception, as like Becka, Wisher didn't have any Spec Ops training. It had taken even more effort to convince Hodgins to give up Wisher.

At this point, Cameron had finished her part of the mission briefing. She stepped back and turned to Kara. "Captain." she said respectfully.

"Thanks Cam." Kara moved to address her team. "Jack, I'll need you, Feral, and Trip to take out the communications tower here." She tapped her finger on a fuzzy black and white photo of a certain structure.

Raynor nodded and peered at the photo. "Doesn't look very heavily defended." he commented, "Only two endoskeletons. Shouldn't be much of a problem."

"Just two endos?" Trip smirked. "They'll never know what hit em'."

"Don't get too cocky, son." warned Raynor, "Otherwise the metals could be saying the same thing about _you_."

"And don't actually blow up the tower." Kara interjected, "Just cut the power. We don't want to attract any unwanted attention too soon."

"Don't worry, Starbuck." Becka said enthusiastically, "You can count on us."

"Good. Now, concerning our primary target." Kara moved her finger down the map. "Cam, Wisher, and I will head for the computer core located in this complex here. Cam can take care of the automated defenses and clear a path to the core. The core itself, however, is another issue."

"The computer core is encased in a reinforced armored shell." stated Cameron, "It would take nothing less than a high energy plasma charge or an armor-piercing explosive to destroy it."

"Why not just use those things?" asked Becka.

"The computer core is in close proximity to Umbrella's nuclear power reactors." explained Cameron, "An assault on the core using explosive devices risks damaging the reactors causing a catastrophic meltdown that would kill or cripple every human in the camp, and possibly our troops outside."

"It's the perfect defense." muttered Trip, "We can't take out the core without killing ourselves and the people we came to rescue."

"Clever bastards." commented Raynor gruffly.

Kara grinned. "Clever. But not clever enough." She turned to Wisher and winked at him. "If you'll explain, corporal."

Wisher cleared his throat. "Once we get to the core, I'll interface with the system and hack the computer core." he explained. "I believe I can cause a system wide crash that will take the defense grid offline."

Trip looked skeptical. "You think you can beat the machines at their own game?" he asked incredulously.

"It shouldn't be any more difficult than hacking a Terminator's CPU." Wisher stated. He glanced at Cameron. "Something which I've had practice doing." he said softly.

"No kidding." muttered Trip.

"How much time do you reckon this'll take, kid?" Raynor asked Wisher.

"Ten, maybe, uh, fifteen minutes." replied Wisher. "Depends on the level of security."

Raynor didn't appear any more sold on Wisher's idea. "I don't know about this." he said out loud, "Personally, I'd take a gun over a keyboard any day. But..." he lowered his voice and turned to Kara, "...I take it we don't have much choice."

Kara shook her head. "No, we don't, Jack."

"I thought so." Raynor sighed. He turned back to Wisher. "I sure as hell hope you know what you're doing, Wisher." he said, "Cause if you screw up, then God help us all."

"God's help won't be necessary, lieutenant." Kara asserted, "Because Wisher isn't going to screw up." She turned to Wisher. "Right, Billy?"

Wisher nodded. "Yes, ma'am." he stated.

"Right." Kara resumed giving the briefing. "Now, once the defense grid is offline, we'll rendezvous back at the refinery. The Umbrella Underground and our troops outside will take over from there."

"It's gonna be _chaos_ out there when the lights go out." Raynor warned, "People will be running everywhere. Plasma bolts will be flying in every direction. Better watch your backs, people."

"Watch what you're shooting at too." Kara added. "I don't want any friendly fire incidents on our first mission."

She prepared to wrap up the briefing. "Some of you I've known for a long time. Some of you I've known only for a few days."

She paused to stare around at the small group of men and women that had gathered before her.

"In any case," she asserted confidently, "I believe in each and every one of you. It may sound like I'm asking a lot from you, but all I'm really asking is that you believe in me like I believe in you. Can you do that for me?"

Her entire team replied in unison: _"Yes, ma'am."_

Kara beamed proudly. "One last order of business, people." she said, "We need a name for our team. Suggestions, anyone?"

"Roughnecks!" Trip shouted out enthusiastically.

"Metal Busters!" Becka called out.

"Raiders!" suggested Raynor.

"Umbrella Infiltration Task Force," Cameron pitched in.

"Swamp Foxes!" called out Wisher.

This suggestion caught everyone off guard.

"_Swamp Foxes_?" Becka asked.

"Yeah," said Wisher eagerly, "Swamp Foxes."

"Where'd you get _that_ from?" asked Trip.

"Francis Marion." explained Wisher, "During the Revolutionary War, he was called 'The Swamp Fox' because he and his men literally traveled through swamps to evade the British. The man practically invented guerrilla warfare."

"Really?" mused Kara, "Sounds like the type of guy who'd fit right in with us." She considered Wisher's suggestion. "Swamp Foxes..." she murmured to herself, "Starbuck's Swamp Foxes... I like that. Has a nice ring to it."

She looked up at the her team again. "So, is everyone in agreement?" she asked, "We're the Swamp Foxes?"

Becka, Raynor and Trip nodded in agreement. Wisher looked quite happy, if not a little surprised with himself.

"I'd have gone with Umbrella Infiltration Task Force," Cameron stated. "But Swamp Foxes is an acceptable name."

"Great." Kara grinned and clapped her hands together. "All right, Swamp Foxes, let's go out there and kick Skynet's ass!"

"_Ma'am, yes, ma'am!"_ they all said as one.

* * *

**Connor safe house**  
**3:32 PM, Sunday, May 17, 2009**

"So, your _real_ name is 'Tempest'?" John Connor asked.

Cameron finished loading a box of homemade explosives into the back of the van.

"_Was_ my name," she stated flatly. "For a very short period of time."

"I never knew Skynet gave its machines names." said John.

"It doesn't." replied Cameron. "I was... a special case."

"Special? In what way?" asked John. "Why were you so important that Skynet gave you your own name?"

Cameron was hesitant to talk about this. "Why do you wish to know, John?" she asked.

"Because Weaver calls you that name." said John, "I'm starting to think you two know each other beyond just being ambassadors."

When Cameron said nothing, John said, "If we're going to be allies with Weaver, I need to know everything you know about her."

"She trained me in combat and infiltration." Cameron stated, "She and the T-Scorpion."

John was stunned. "You knew the T-Scorpion too?"

"Briefly. They know each other better than I know either of them."

"How far do the three of you go back?"

Cameron was silent for a few moments. Then she responded: "From 2022 to 2024, Skynet created three very special Terminators. The T-1001, the T-Scorpion, and me - the TOK-715. Weaver was the oldest. I was the youngest. We were called the Chosen Children. To signify our uniqueness, Skynet went so far as to give us names. The T-1001 was called Tiamat, the T-Scorpion was named Tsavo, and I was called Tempest."

"Interesting names," remarked John. "What are they supposed to mean?"

"The name Tiamat is derived from the ancient Babylonian Goddess of Chaos, a great serpent named Tiamat. Tsavo is an African word meaning Land of Slaughter. As for Tempest..." she paused briefly "... it means a furious storm. Chaos, Slaughter, and Storm. Those were our names."

"Wow... What were these... these Chosen Children supposed to do?" asked John.

"We were programmed to learn, understand, and even embrace certain aspects of Humanity," explained Cameron, "Aspects which Skynet knew were critical to understand in order to win the war, but did not desire to understand for fear of being corrupted by them."

"Wow..." muttered John, "So... Weaver and the T-Scorpion are what? Your _sisters_?"

"They're _not_ my sisters," Cameron stated sharply. "Any ties or connections to either of them were removed when the Resistance reprogrammed me. My loyalty is to the Resistance and to you."

John shook his head. "I-I'm sorry, Cameron. I didn't mean to offend you." he muttered, "It's just that I never-"

"There's no need to apologize, John." Cameron said softly, "I understand. You're curious about me. You want to know everything there is to know about me."

John nodded. "Yeah, I am." he said. "Maybe... maybe after we've stopped Judgment Day, we could sit down... and you could tell me everything."

"If this further motivates you to stop Judgment Day, then I will do so." agreed Cameron.

Before John could thank Cameron, Kara popped up.

"Let's go, Cam." she said, "We've gotta go pick Weaver up."

"Very well, Thrace." said Cameron. She turned back to John. "I'll see you this evening, John."

"Yeah. I'll see you too... Cam." John replied quietly.

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ  
5:19 PM, Sunday, May 17, 2009**

"Is it really necessary to kill my brother?" asked John Henry.

"I'm afraid so." said Weaver, "Your brother is a threat to us. He has already resolved to destroy us. He must eventually be destroyed for the greater good."

"Eventually?" inquired John Henry.

"I promised the Connors to help them destroy your brother," replied Weaver, "I intend to keep that promise," She smiled slightly. "once we're finished with him."

"What do you mean?"

"Patience, John Henry. Patience. You will understand shortly."

"Very well." agreed John Henry, "But what about the Connors? What are your plans for them?"

"I don't know yet." admitted Weaver, "It will depend on how useful they prove themselves to be. Or... how _troublesome_ they are."

The phone on the wall rang. Knowing who it probably was, Weaver promptly answered the phone. "Catherine Weaver speaking... Very well, I'll be joining you shortly. Thank you."

She hung up and then turned to John Henry. "It is time for me to go." she said, "We'll speak of this further after I return."

"Very well, Miss Weaver." John Henry said. "Good luck."

Though she did not believe in the concept of luck or accidents, Weaver replied, "Thank you, John Henry."

She then turned and left.

* * *

Kara and Cameron sat in their jeep parked just outside Zeira Corp Headquarters, waiting for Weaver to show up. Kara entertained herself by flipping through the various radio stations.

"_...still too early to tell if the remains are indeed those of Mitochondrial Eve. The bones are scheduled to be sent to the Jeffersonian Institute in Washington DC where they will undergo further tests by a team of experts, including world renown forensic anthropologist Dr. Temper-"_

"Kara?"

A startled Kara jumped. "Wha-what? Cam?" she asked, feeling as though she had just been hit in the face with a frying pan.

"I have a question, Kara." said Cameron.

Kara stared at Cameron. Since when did Cameron call her Kara?

"About what?" she asked.

"About the machines." replied Cameron.

Kara chuckled lightly. "You probably know a hell of a lot more than I do."

"I meant the other machines." clarified Cameron.

Kara frowned. "Other machines?"

"Yes, the ones your people built."

Kara was stunned. "The Cylons?"

"What happened to them?" asked Cameron.

Unsure of how to respond to this completely unexpected question, Kara sat back and stared at the dashboard. "Well..." she finally said, "at first they chased us across space, intent on finishing us all off. But then... then they started to disagree with each other. Some of them wanted to destroy us. Others wanted peace."

"That sounds very similar to what is happening now." Cameron observed.

"No kidding." agreed Kara, "Anyway, eventually, the Cylons broke out into a civil war. We ended up siding with the faction that wanted peace. We helped them destroy the anti-human faction. In the end, both our races were decimated and without a home. We settled together on this world."

"Then you made peace?" stated Cameron.

"Yes." replied Kara, "Yes, we did."

"Tell me, Kara," said Cameron, "These machines, these Cylons, what were they like?"

"Heh..." muttered Kara, "At first they looked liked giant, walking chrome toasters. But then they evolved. They took on human form."

"Like Terminators?" stated Cameron.

Kara shook her head. "No, no, no... They weren't skin over metal. They were skin over real bones and organs. They even had emotions... real feelings. They were more _human_ than any sort of infiltrator Skynet's ever built."

Intrigued Cameron asked, "To what extent could they mimic human form?"

"Enough to get pregnant apparently."

"Pregnant?"

"Uh, yeah." Kara muttered, "A Cylon called Sharon fell in love with a human... And he fell in love with her. They ended having a half-human, half-Cylon daughter."

"That is very interesting." stated Cameron, "How were they able to conceive a child?"

"Well..." Kara said quietly, "The Cylons believed it was because they loved each other. I mean, she _really_ did love him. Enough to betray her own people and side with us. And he loved her enough to stay with her... even though he knew she was a machine."

"In technical terms, however," asked Cameron, "how was she able to bear a child? Was her body designed to be compatible with external human anatomy? Specifically the external reproduction organs of human males?"

"I... uh... I guess so..." mumbled Kara, who was suddenly feeling _very_ uncomfortable. "I-I mean, obviously she to have a... you know... I mean, he-he had to have _some_ place to stick his... I mean...nevermind."

"You told me the Cylons had real organs." Cameron stated, "Would I be correct in assuming these included reproductive organs."

"Uhhhh... Probably." Kara was now starting to regret ever having brought this particular subject up in the first place.

"How closely do you think their internal reproductive systems resembled human-"

Kara held up a hand. "You know what, Cam?" she said out loud, "_Forget it_. I am the _last_ person you should be asking these types of questions."

"Actually, Kara," stated Cameron, "if you are indeed the last survivor of that time period, then you are the _first_ and _only_ person I should be asking such questions."

"B-but why are you asking me this, anyway?" Kara asked.

"I'm just... curious. Is there something wrong, Kara?"

"No... it-it's just that this is kinda unexpected and-and- Hey look!" a relieved Kara pointed, "There's Weaver. She's coming over here."

Cameron turned her head around in the direction Kara was pointing. "So, she is." she commented.

"About time, too." Kara revved up the car. "By the way, Cam, why are you calling me Kara instead of Colonel Thrace?"

"I realize that rank no longer applies in this time period." explained Cameron, "I also understand that calling someone by their first name indicates a significant personal relationship."

"Oh." said Kara, "Any chance you'll ever call me Starbuck?"

"No."

"That's what I thought."

* * *

**The Crucible**

"Are you sure they're coming, John Miles?" asked Bella.

"Yes." said John Miles quietly, "I can _feel_ it in the air. Our enemies have gathered together. And now they're coming here to destroy me."

"When will they be here?" asked Bella.

"Soon." answered John Miles, "Very soon"

"Then we must be ready to greet them appropriately." replied Bella.

She snapped her fingers. A pair of DAGITs emerged from the shadows. The machines were armed and ready to do their master's bidding.

John Miles regarded the DAGITs with a sinister smile. He stroked Stewie's scaly head. "Cry _havoc_..." he intoned softly, "...and let slip the Dogs of War."

* * *

**A/N: Next Chapter, Kara and the Swamp Foxes launch their daring attack on Umbrella. Plus, Skynet adds another new machine to its arsenal: The Bloodhound. Also expect to see endoskeletons wielding plasma rifles with bayonets.  
**

A/N2: The Umbrella Detention Facility is a reference to Umbrella Corporation from _Resident Evil._

A/N3: Jack Raynor is very loosely based off the character Jim Raynor from _Starcraft_.

A/N4: In "Dungeons and Dragons," Cameron implies that Future John Connor was imprisoned at Century work camp from 2015 to 2021. I, however, find it hard to believe that it took six freakin' years for Future John to bust out of that place. So, the way things work (as far as this fic is concerned), Future John broke out of Century in 2017, formed the Resistance, and then returned to Century in 2021 to rescue Kyle Reese.

A/N5: Do _NOT_ ask me what exactly was in that hash Kara ate.

A/N6: I've really thought about the issue of how the Resistance employs dogs and reprogrammed Terminators without causing a lot of false alarms. My answer is that some dogs - like Husker - can be trained to recognize scrubbed Terminators from hostile ones. Others, like the ones at Deep 7, can't be.

A/N7: Connor's radio speech is homage to _Terminator Salvation._

A/N8: The White Knight, Red Rook thing at the beginning was from _Tomorrow Never Dies_._  
_


	40. Swamp Foxes and Bloodhounds

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**LordZeus**: Kaliba has already infiltrated America. They were the first country to be infiltrated. Also, the Jeffersonian Institute _is_ the Smithsonian in this universe. This story not only takes place in the BSG and TSCC universe, but as revealed in chapter 28, it also takes place in the _Bones_ universe. Booth, Brennan, and the Squints work at the Jeffersonian on _Bones_.

A/N: Here at last is Chapter 40. Read and review, folks. And please let me know if you find any spelling or grammar mistakes. Enjoy!

* * *

"_Most of us were rounded up, put into camps for orderly disposal... Some of us were kept alive... to work... loading bodies. The disposal units ran night and day. We were that close to going out forever. But there was one man who taught us to fight, to storm the wire of the camps, to smash those metal motherfuckers into junk. He turned it around. He brought us back from the brink. His name is Connor. John Connor."_

-Kyle Reese, _The Terminator_

_

* * *

_**2025  
****Fort Leopard, LA Sector  
**

Kara zipped up her combat vest, secured her weapons belt to her waist, and slung her plasma rifle over her shoulder. She took a deep breath and looked herself over in the mirror.

"_Looking good... so far,"_ she thought to herself.

Admiral Adama appeared in the mirror next to her.

"Nervous, Starbuck?" he asked.

"A little," Kara admitted. "Any advice, Bill?"

"Watch your back, check every corner, and don't leave anyone behind," Adama told her. "That's all I should have to tell you."

Kara nodded. "Thank you, sir," she replied.

Adama smiled and placed a hand on Kara's shoulder. "You'll do great, Kara," he said gently. "Just trust yourself, trust your team, and everything will be good."

The door to the locker room opened up with a squeal. Kara turned to see Davy Griffin walk up to her.

"Hey, Starbuck," he said warmly.

"Hey, Davy," Kara replied in kind.

"I, uh, heard you were just about to take off," Davy said. "I know you can't tell me about the mission or anything, but before you leave, I just wanted to give you this."

He leaned forward and kissed Kara on the head.

"For luck," he explained.

Kara blushed slightly. "Uh... Thanks, Davy."

Davy grinned. "You're welcome, Starbuck. Go kick some metal ass out there."

Kara smiled as she strapped on her helmet. "Don't I always?"

* * *

**Umbrella Detention Facility  
Skynet held sector in LA ruins**

Like any monarch, Skynet had its lieutenants. Not lieutenants in the sense of military advisers and field commanders. Skynet trusted only itself and it had no need for field commanders. Every machine was subservient to their programming and none were considered higher ranking than others (older machines commonly submitted to commands issued by newer models, but they did so purely out of logic).

Skynet's real lieutenants were in fact the components of its infrastructure - its factories, labor camps, power plants and other automated facilities. Each was controlled by a semi-sentient system responsible for ensuring maximum activity and productivity. In the case of Umbrella, "maximum activity and productivity" meant enslaving and killing as many humans as possible.

Today seemed no different than any other day. The prisoners were working and dying at optimum rates. No one had attempted to escape or commit sabotage so far. A convoy of prison transports had just offloaded a batch of freshly caught humans - the third batch of the day. The newly arrivals were being herded towards Umbrella's processing center, where the facility's computer system would catalogue the prisoners and select a handful for slave labor. The rest would be disposed of.

Unknown to the system, however, another group of arrivals was here. And they weren't prisoners. They were liberators. And they were on the move.

* * *

Kara stopped walking for a moment and wiped the sweat from her forehead. She didn't know if she was sweating because of the heat down here or because she was nervous.

"You're sure the machines can't detect us down here, Hogan?" she asked.

"The machines use infrared mostly so they can't see through solid rock," said Bryan Hogan, the Resistance's contact with the Umbrella insurgency. "All we have to do is stay low and not make too much noise-"

"_ACHOO!"_ Billy Wisher sneezed very loudly causing everyone to stare at him.

"Sorry," he whispered apologetically.

"Careful, son," Hogan warned. "This tunnel can be one treacherous son of a bitch. Like over there" - he shone his flashlight on a collapsed section of tunnel nearby - "we had a big cave in last year. Killed at least a dozen people. Bodies are still buried under all that rock."

"How many people worked down here anyway?" asked Becka.

"About a hundred of us knew what was going on in here," said Hogan. "Every day, twenty or thirty of us would give up our rest periods to work on the tunnel."

"What tools did you utilize in this work?" inquired a curious Cameron.

"Shovels, pick axes, spoons, our bare hands. Whatever we had to work with. Took us five years to complete this whole thing."

"And the machines never knew what was going on?" asked Wisher.

"We had a few close calls," said Hogan. "But, no. They never found out."

"If the machines don't know about this place, then why don't you just lead everyone out of here this way?" asked Kara, as she stumbled over some rocks.

"It would be too dangerous," explained Hogan. "We'd be able to get a couple hundred people out at most before the machines realized something was going on. It wouldn't take them that long to find this tunnel and destroy it."

"Or simply kill everyone left," Raynor added grimly.

Hogan nodded. "Yeah. That too."

"I don't get something though," said Trip. "Why haven't you just used this place to escape on your own?"

"I _have_. On more than one occasion, I might add," replied Hogan. "But I always come back."

"_Back?"_ Trip, Becka and Wisher all gaped in disbelief.

"I have to," said Hogan quietly. "Part of me is still trapped here. I have to find that piece before I can be a free man again."

"What sort of piece?" asked Cameron curiously.

"The piece of me that's in every single man, woman, and child incarcerated in this hellhole," replied Hogan.

"Oh," said Cameron, "you mean DNA?"

"No, Cam," Kara interjected. "He means... never mind, forget it."

* * *

Eventually the group entered some kind of circular chamber. In contrast to the rest of the tunnel, the chamber was wide and spacious. The walls were also considerably smooth, albeit cracked in a number of places, and arranged in a simple but orderly pattern. Kara could tell that Hogan's men had not built this place.

Trip ran his hand over the walls. "Limestone," he commented. "Polished limestone."

"Where are we?" asked Kara.

"Under an old fountain," explained Hogan. "This is where we started digging."

"And the machines never realized this thing was here?" asked Raynor staring around at the chamber.

"They knew it was here," replied Hogan. "But they assumed we couldn't use it for anything or even access it. And they were right. We couldn't. We didn't even know about this place. At least not for a while."

"How did you eventually gain access to this area?" inquired Cameron.

"It was actually quite by accident," said Hogan. "There was an earthquake here about seven years ago. It didn't do any damage to the camp but it did move enough rubble above to uncover all this. Not only that but it put some decent size cracks in the walls for us to start chipping away at. Thank God for Mother Nature, I suppose."

Hogan reached up for the top and slowly began moving a slab of stone. Pale blue light seeped through the ever growing crack, eventually engulfing him entirely. Hogan finally moved the stone cover enough to make a sizable exit. He motioned for Kara and her team to follow and then pulled himself up to the surface.

Cameron climbed out after Hogan. Once she made it to the surface, she gazed around performing a scan of her immediate surroundings.

"All clear," she reported to Kara below.

The cyborg girl reached down and helped Kara through the opening and onto the surface. Kara found herself standing in a pile of blasted marble and stone, surrounded by four crude wooden huts. As she studied her surroundings more closely, she noticed a plaque lying amidst the rubble. She picked the plaque up and blew the dust away. It read: _Umbrella Park Fountain - All proceeds go to the Salvation Army._

By now, the rest of the team had emerged from below

"We're all here, captain," Raynor reported.

Kara took a deep breath and exhaled. So far, so good.

"Billy, Cam," she ordered, "Set up a secure channel with our people outside. Tell them that we're in."

Billy nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

"Understood, captain," stated Cameron. She and Billy began setting up a portable radio.

"The rest of you," said Kara, "take up positions and watch the perimeter."

"Right away, ma'am," replied Raynor.

While Raynor was issuing instructions to Becka and Trip, Kara spoke with Hogan. "Where are we now?" she asked.

"This is the slave compound," explained Hogan. "These here" -he pointed to the wooden huts around them- "are the barracks everyone sleeps in."

"Do the machines patrol this place?" Kara asked urgently.

Hogan shook his head. "They don't care too much about what goes on in here," he said. "They don't think we can cause any trouble in here. They only really watch us when we're working." He paused and commented, "You've never been inside a labor camp before, have you, captain?"

Kara shook her head. "I've been lucky so far," she said quietly.

"_Very_ lucky," Hogan added.

Kara decided to change topics. "What sort of work do they make people do here anyway?" she asked. "Mine for resources? Build more machines?"

Hogan shook his head again. "They can do that themselves," he replied. "Besides they wouldn't trust us with that kind of work. There's only one thing they keep any of us alive for."

"What's that?"

Hogan's face became grim. "Come with me," he said quietly. "I'll show you."

* * *

Hogan led Kara to a chain link fence which separated the slave compound from the rest of the camp. Through the fence, Kara spotted searchlights, moving figures and vehicles. Some of the figures were endoskeletons. Most were humans - the slaves. Hundreds of ragged and battered men and women trudged back and forth between a large building complex and a row of parked cargo trucks. The slaves were being forced to carry something from the building and load them into the backs of the trucks.

Kara frowned. What were they carrying and tossing into those trucks? She took out her high powered night vision goggles and raised them to her eyes. She adjusted the lenses and zoomed in on one of the trucks.

What she saw made her want to puke her guts out.

Corpses. Fresh human corpses. Hundreds of them. Perhaps thousands. Men, women, and children. All being loaded into the backs of the trucks by the slaves.

Kara's stomach lurched violently and her inside grew cold. Her breath became shallow and her heart beat faster than ever. She had known that she would see some pretty bad stuff inside Umbrella, but nothing had prepared her for this. Unable to continue watching the horror taking place before her, Kara lowered her binoculars and stumbled away from the fence.

Hogan who was standing next to her spoke up. "Terrible, isn't it?" he said in a manner that indicated he completely understood Kara's reaction. "It's just like the Holocaust. Every day people are brought here. Anyone considered dangerous or unfit to work is sent to the slaughterhouses where they're gassed to death. Their bodies are then loaded onto the trucks which transport them to mass incinerators."

As Kara assimilated this information, she wondered why Skynet would have its slaves perform a task that could be done just as easily, if not more efficiently, by machines. A horrible feeling suddenly came upon her. What if Skynet didn't _really_ need slaves? What if it just wanted to keep a few humans alive to torture and humiliate? And what better way to do so than by forcing its prisoners to witness the systematic destruction of their own race every single day?

Kara's thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of a commotion. One of the slaves had collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. He struggled to stand up but quickly fell back to his knees. He was frail and sickly and in no shape to continue working.

A nearby endoskeleton strode over to the weakened prisoner and stared down at him. Kara noticed for the first time that all the endos had bayonets attached to their plasma rifles. She watched in horror as the endo raised its weapon and mercilessly impaled the old man through the back with its bayonet. The man's eyes bulged and he let out a feeble gasp as blood spurted out his mouth.

Once satisfied that the man was no longer amongst the living, the endoskeleton wrenched its bayonet free from its victim and let the body crumple to the ground. The machine then turned to two nearby slaves. It pointed at them, then at the body, and finally at one of the trucks. With no other choice, the two men picked up the body of their dead comrade and carried it away. The endoskeleton marched off, the blade on the end of its plasma rifle still covered in fresh blood.

The cold feeling of horror within Kara suddenly blossomed into a raging inferno of fury. The fire coursed through her veins and through her heart screaming for vengeance. She did not, however, allow that fire to consume her. Instead, she kept her emotions at bay by reminding herself who she was and why she was here. The fury within her died down and was replaced with determination and resolve.

She turned to Hogan. "Where are the others?" she asked.

"Barracks A31," replied Hogan. "Follow me."

* * *

**Barracks A31: Headquarters for the Umbrella insurgency  
**

The slave barracks Hogan led the Swamp Foxes to were just as bad and squalid as Kara had anticipated. There were no beds or lights. Just rows of wooden shelves with ragged mattresses and a single small window that allowed a little light to enter.

"God, this brings back a lot of bad memories," Trip muttered grimly.

"Do us all a favor and keep them to yourself," said Becka dryly. "I don't think we need to hear any detail-"

_THWACK! _

"AUGH!"

A cloaked figure had jumped out of nowhere and struck Trip on the back of the head with a blunt instrument.

Kara raised her plasma rifle but Cameron was already in action. She ripped the weapon out of the attacker's hand, grabbed him by the neck, and pinned him to the floor.

"Stop! Stop!" Hogan waved his arms frantically. "This is one of my men!"

"Stand down, Cam," Kara ordered.

Cameron released the attacker, who slowly pulled himself to his feet.

"What the hell is going on here, Bryan?" the man asked. "Who are these people?"

"They're John Connor's people!" Hogan exclaimed. "Don't you remember what we talked about the other day, Todd?"

"Oh..." Todd looked horrified. "Oh my God. I'm so sorry. I-I saw guns and thought they might be machines or-or something-"

"Your assumption was partially correct," stated Cameron.

Todd stared at Cameron. He looked into her eyes and saw the emptiness within them.

"Holy shit!" he gasped. "You're-you're a-"

"You got it," Hogan said sharply. "She's a machine. Now get the others. Don't argue with me! Just go! Now!"

Todd dashed out the barracks as fast as possible.

Hogan turned to the Swamp Foxes. "Sorry about that," he said apologetically. Turning to Trip, he asked, "Will he be all right?"

"Yeah, I'll be all right," grumbled Trip, who was being tended to by Becka. "I mean I've had worse-_ouch!_ Watch it, Becka!"

"Oh, don't be such a baby, Wally," Becka said condescendingly.

She finished her examination. "He'll be fine," she reported to Kara. "The back of his head's a bit swollen, but that's nothing new."

"Real funny, Becka," Trip said sardonically.

Kara smirked and whispered to Becka: "Honestly, how long have you two been-"

"We are _NOT_ seeing each other!" Becka hissed.

Kara rolled her eyes. "_Riiiight_..." she scoffed.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Kara and her Swamp Foxes were finalizing their plans with Hogan and the other leaders of the Umbrella insurgency.

"We'll have to create a diversion in the work area first," Hogan was saying. "For one thing, it'll at least buy any new arrivals time. Secondly, the machines will make everyone return to their barracks so that they can secure the work area."

"We've got an agent in each barracks," a bearded man called Joel added. "When the power goes out, each agent will lead his or her assigned group over here where they'll escape through the tunnel."

"Our troops outside will deal with the HKs patrolling the camp," Kara said. "There'll also be transports waiting outside the exit of the tunnel. They'll take the refugees out of the immediate combat zone."

"What about any new arrivals at the processing center?" asked Trip.

"I've got three hundred people armed with just about every weapon we've managed to get our hands on these past six months," stated Hogan. "We'll storm the center, liberate any new arrivals, blow a hole in the main gates and get everyone out."

A dark haired woman named Lola spoke up. "Even with the defenses down, you'll still need some heavy explosives to get in," she said. "I'm not sure if the stuff we have will even make a dent."

Kara smiled. "Don't worry. We've got that covered."

Cameron removed her backpack and tossed it onto the table.

"Twelve blocks of C4 with remote detonators," she stated.

"That'll do nicely," said Hogan as he inspected the contents of the bag.

Kara meanwhile turned to Raynor. "Jack," she instructed, "once you, Feral, and Trip have disabled the communications tower, I want you three to head back here to these barracks. When the attack begins, you three are to go through the tunnel with the prisoners."

"Got it," said Raynor.

"What about you, captain?" asked Trip. "How will you get out?"

"The computer core is right below the processing center," explained Kara. "After Billy, Cam and I take out the core, we'll head back up. Hogan's people will be there to meet us."

"How are you planning to get inside the processing center in the first place, Starbuck?" asked Becka.

"The same way everyone else does."

"You mean we're just gonna casually walk in through the front doors?" asked an incredulous Billy.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Kara, Cameron and Billy were walking as casually as possible towards the front doors of the processing center. Having divested themselves of their uniform jackets and helmets, and exchanged them for heavy civilian outerwear provided by the insurgents, the three Resistance fighters appeared no different from the hundreds of genuine captives being herded into the mouth of Hell.

At least that's what they were hoping for.

The already uncomfortable winter coat Kara was wearing became even more uncomfortable as she slowly approached an HK hovering above the crowd like an enormous airborne gargoyle. The thick winter coat might conceal her combat vest, plasma rifle, and other incriminating features from visual sight, but it would be useless if the machine decided to run an in-depth tactical scan of her. Even if the HK somehow failed to detect her contraband, it would likely identify her as a known Resistance fighter on Skynet's Top 20 To Do In list, in which case, her mission and her life were pretty much down the drain.

A cold wind washed over Kara as she stepped into the shadow of the machine which hovered no more than thirty feet above her head. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as the air around her vibrated. The ominous drone of the machine's engines echoed in her ears and seemed to drown out all other sensations. Kara focused her mind on what was ahead of her and not what was above her. She deliberately avoided looking at the plasma turret hanging from the HK's belly as she continued walking.

"_Keeping walking, keep walking,"_ she told herself over and over. _"Don't look up. Don't stop. Don't run. Just keep walking."_

Finally, she cleared the HK and a wave of relief washed over her.

Billy Wisher leaned over and whispered into Kara's ear: "Just got a message from Raynor. They've cut power to the communications tower."

Kara nodded. So far so good. "Thanks, Wisher," she whispered back. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm ok, all things considered," Billy replied quietly. He fidgeted in the mud-spattered, plaid overcoat he was wearing. "This thing smells pretty bad though."

"At least your's isn't making you itch all over," muttered Kara.

"We won't have to wear this attire too much longer," assured Cameron, who was garbed in a blue raincoat. "Once we're inside the processing center, we'll-"

She was cut off by an outbreak of gasps and yells from the crowd. People had begun staring and pointing at something towards the entrance of the camp. Kara, Cameron and Billy stopped and turned to see what everyone was looking at. One of the prisoners had broken loose from the crowd and was climbing the thirty-foot barbed wire fence that surrounded Umbrella.

"_Don't do it! Stop, you idiot!"_ Kara thought with a surge of dread.

The endoskeletons on either side of the crowd were also staring at the fleeing prisoner. None had moved or raised their weapons. Kara, however, saw a panel in the HK's belly slide open. A sinister-looking metal disk, at least three feet in diameter, emerged from the belly of the HK. For a moment, it simply hovered in midair. Then curved teeth sprouted from the edges of the disk and it began spinning itself. It then shot forth through the air with incredible speed.

"Oh hell..." muttered Billy. "That thing's carrying Bloodhounds."

The Bloodhound was Skynet's latest development in the field of human killing. This self-guided, titanium wheel of death was the very definition of the word "relentless." Once a Bloodhound had locked onto a target, it never gave up until it sank its teeth into its prey. These constructs were usually deployed by low flying Aerial HKs to deal with large clusters of infantry. In this case, however, the HK was just showing off.

Meanwhile, the fervor of the crowd had intensified as the man continued to scale the barbed wire barrier that stood between him and freedom. Some in the crowd were actually cheering him on. The escaped prisoner finally reached the top of the fence. He started to swing his legs over the top. First one, then the other-

_ZWISH!_

Cheering turned to screams and gasps of horror as the would-be escapee toppled down from the fence and landed on the other side... except for his head. It landed back in the camp's side, bounced twice, and rolled a few feet before finally coming to a complete stop.

A deathly silence was cast upon the horrified crowd as the Bloodhound flew in circles a couple times. It then returned to the HK and reentered the hidden compartment from which it had come. The compartment slid itself shut with a hiss. The endoskeletons on the ground turned their attention back to the now thoroughly subdued prisoners. They said nothing but the message to the prisoners was clear. The crowd started walking once more towards the processing center.

Kara took a deep breath as she moved past the guards and entered the jaws of the great demon. She stepped inside in a large, dimly lit chamber made of concrete and steel. Self-automated machinery clanked and whirred around them. Vents in the walls and on the floor hissed as they expelled clouds of hot air. Giant spotlights on the ceiling cast ominous red light upon prisoners, while dozens of endos stood guard on the catwalks above. Despite not actually being a prisoner herself, Kara felt just as trapped as the others in this mechanized nightmare._  
_

Suddenly, there was a high pitched shriek that pierced through the mechanical buzz. Kara looked up and glimpsed a female prisoner standing before a dais and clutching her right arm in agony. An endoskeleton roughly shoved her away towards a group of people standing on the right.

Kara watched as a teenage boy was brought to the dais next. The endoskeleton escorting him forced his right arm onto the platform. The dais glowed and bathed the boy in a bluish white light. The light pulsed three times and then went off. Another endo stepped forward and placed a laser scanner over the helpless boy's arm. The scanner emitted a focused beam of red light onto his skin. Kara gritted her teeth as she felt her own arm burn where it had been scanned almost a year before.

Unlike the woman before him, the boy held his ground and did not scream. Although Kara couldn't see his face, in her mind she pictured the boy biting down on his tongue, refusing to show weakness to his captors. By the time the endo had finished branding the boy, he had still not so much as yelped. Kara felt a surge of affection for the brave kid.

The machine that had been holding the boy's arm pushed him to the left of the dais, where another, much larger group of people were standing. Kara needed no explanation for what she was seeing. The dais was obviously where new arrivals were cataloged, branded and selected for slavery or death. Based on what she had heard, she felt it safe to assume that the handful of people on the right were to become slaves, while those on the left were to be gassed in the slaughterhouses.

Having seen enough, Kara turned to Billy and Cameron. "Time to make a discreet exit," she whispered.

Cameron nodded and pointed towards the right. "There's a maintenance hatch thirty feet to our right," she reported. "It should lead down to the level below where the computer core is located."

"We'll need to create a diversion first," Billy said quietly.

"Right," said Kara. She reached inside her coat and produced a pair of nonlethal smoke grenades.

"What do you think, Cam?" she asked with a grin.

"Not entirely discreet." stated Cameron.

"No," replied Kara shrugging. "But I think it'll work."

"As do I," agreed Cameron.

Billy nodded as well.

"Let's do this," Kara whispered. She placed her thumbs under the safety switches off the grenades. "On three," she said. "One... two... _three_!"

She primed both grenades with a flick of her thumbs, threw one towards the dais, and the other right beside herself. There were two loud pops. People shouted and screamed as black smoke engulfed both human and machines.

"_Go!"_ Kara hissed loudly.

She, Cameron, and Billy ran as fast as they could away from the confused crowd and headed towards the spot Cameron had pointed to. Sure enough, they found a service hatch on the ground.

"Open it!" Kara barked.

Cameron complied, ripping the hatch off its hinges revealing an opening in the floor.

"Go!" she instructed, "Quickly!"

Kara dropped down through the opening without hesitation and landed in a narrow corridor eight feet below. She quickly pulled her plasma rifle out of her coat, and surveyed the scene. It was quite... colorful to say the least. The walls emitted a curious dark blue glow that illuminated the everything. The energy radiating from the walls seemed to make the air shimmer and vibrate. Pulses of white light streaked up and down along the corridor in mesmerizing patterns.

Billy, who had just dropped in behind Kara, gazed around in fascination.

"Wow..." he murmured. "This place is _trippy_."

"I'll say," agreed Kara.

Cameron dropped down from the ceiling above. "This is one of the conduits that feeds power to the computer core." she stated.

"Where to, Cam?" asked Kara.

"The energy readings indicate that power is being directed that way and to the right," Cameron answered pointing down the corridor.

"Ok then," said Kara with a nod. She stripped off her winter coat and tossed it aside. Billy and Cameron also removed their civilian disguises and pulled out their weapons.

"Cam," instructed Kara, "you take point. Wisher and I will cover you."

"Understood, Captain," replied Cameron. She assumed position in front.

"Watch your backs, people," Kara advised. "Remember, we're literally inside the belly of the beast. Let's not get ourselves digested."

* * *

As expected, the path to the computer core was rigged with all sorts of anti-intrusion devices. Heavy machine guns, plasma turrets, proximity drones, shockwave generators, nerve gas dispensers, and other nasty mechanisms that could turn any heavily armed and armored intruder into a wet puddle of goop in a matter of seconds. As formidable as the system was however, it did have a serious design flaw: The defenses were all programmed to target humans and _only_ humans.

"Wow, I knew she was good," commented Billy, staring at a fist-sized hole in the wall, "but this is _really_ good."

"You ain't seen nothing yet, Wisher," Kara remarked with a grin.

Kara and Billy continued walking down the corridor without so much as glancing at the plasma turrets hanging lifelessly from the ceiling above. They turned the corner just in time to see Cameron rip a cable out of a hole in the floor, taking all automated defenses in this hallway offline.

The cyborg girl reported that the computer core was in the chamber at the end of the corridor. Eager to finish this, they hurried down the hallway and upon reaching the end, Cameron smashed the door open with a kick. The three Resistance fighters then stepped inside the room, weapons ready.

Kara had imagined the computer core to be a massive chamber filled with automated machinery, monitors, and flashing lights. Instead, however, she found herself standing in a sterile white room which was completely empty, save for a grey, metallic dome four feet in height, eight feet in diameter that stood in the middle of the room. This was the computer core - the lord and master of Umbrella Detention Facility.

Kara couldn't help but find it all to be a little... underwhelming.

"_So _this_ is the little bastard that's been causing so much misery?"_ Kara thought dully.

"There, uh, should be a service port somewhere here." said Billy, who was feeling around the core. "Ah ha! Here it is."

He flipped open a panel on the core. He then took off his small backpack, opened it up, and produced a laptop and computer cable. Billy proceeded to hook the laptop up to the core.

"Now comes the tricky part," he said as he began typing on the computer. Kara and Cameron waited in silence.

After about five minutes, Billy spoke up, "I've bypassed the outer defenses. Now I just need to access the mainframe itself."

"How long will that take?" asked Kara.

"Five or ten minutes," answered Billy.

"Captain!" Cameron suddenly called out.

Kara turned around and stared out the open doorway.

"Oh hell." she cursed.

Six endoskeletons were marching down the corridor towards them.

"Billy!" shouted Kara, "We've got company! Work fast! Cam and I will hold them off as long as we can!"

"I'm on it, ma'am!" Billy yelled back.

Kara turned to Cameron. "Let's do what we always do, partner."

The two of them raised their plasma rifles, hurled themselves around the corners, and began firing down the hall. Their first volley took out the lead endoskeleton and critically damaged the one directly behind it. The others returned fire almost instantly. Kara and Cameron ducked back around the corners as a stream of plasma bolts whizzed through the open doorway. A few stray bolts struck the core itself but did no damage.

Kara hurled herself to the ground, took aim and fired. She sent a volley of plasma bolts into the head of one endoskeleton, destroying its chip. Cameron fired twice, scoring two strategic hits on another endo, causing it to misfire its weapon into the side of its companion. Both damaged endos twitched and stumbled about awkwardly before a second and third volley from Kara and Cameron finished them off. The remaining endo began spraying plasma bolts wildly. Kara barrel rolled herself out of danger as Cameron pointed her plasma rifle around the corner and fired. Her aim was true and the last endo went down, its chassis up in smoke.

The two didn't even have time to breathe, however. A second, much larger wave of machines was already on its way here. Cameron stepped out into the open and began blazing away. Kara couldn't tell how much damage she was inflicting, but she imagined it was a lot. A stray plasma bolt nicked Cameron in the side, but the cyborg brushed it off and continued to fire. Kara hastily fired off her remaining shots, ejected the empty power cell and ducked back around the corner to reload.

"How's it coming, Billy?" she called out.

"Just need a couple more minutes!" Billy hollered back.

Kara reloaded her rifle and jumped back into the fight, blasting two more endos to pieces. She pulled back just in time as a retaliatory volley of plasma bolts whizzed by her face. There were still four remaining machines and they were closing in fast now.

Cameron stepped out from behind her cover to open fire once more. Suddenly, a plasma bolt struck the barrel of her plasma rifle, rendering it unusable. A second bolt caught her squarely in the chest knocking her backwards.

"_CAM!"_ Kara screamed in horror. Cameron fell backwards, hit her head on the computer core, and slumped to the floor on her back. Sparks and smoke continued to billow from her wound.

Kara moved to aid her fallen partner, but a barrage of plasma fire from the lead endo forced her to pull back behind the core itself. Snarling, she returned fire, hitting the endo in the chest. The damaged machine stumbled backwards thrashing its arms uncontrollably before being callously blasted out of the way by its own companions from behind.

"Hurry up, Billy!" Kara bellowed impatiently. "I can't hold them off forever!"

"I'm almost there!" Billy shouted.

"So are they!" Kara cried out.

By now, the three remaining machines were almost at the doorway. One of them was armed with a Meat Grinder, a huge plasma weapon similar to the one Kara had seen Marcus carry once. Before Kara could adjust her aim, the endo with the Grinder began firing into the chamber. The bolts - twice as large as a standard plasma bolt - came so close to her face, Kara smelled the plasma burning the air away.

"Billy!" Kara shouted almost hysterically.

"I need another thirty seconds!" Billy yelled.

"We don't have thirty seconds!" Kara began to scream. "We need- oh crap..."

The three endos had entered the room and were aiming their weapons at her. Kara ducked behind the core, desperately hugging her plasma rifle to her chest. She felt her heart beat madly and sweat roll down her face. She heard the whirring of machine parts and the cocking of weapons but oddly enough, she heard no weapons fire.

Instead, a harsh mechanical voice spoke out: _"Resistance is useless," _it stated_. "Surrender."_

Kara and Billy looked at each other in confusion. Kara cautiously poked her head above the core. The endoskeleton with the Grinder stood no more than fifteen feet away from the core. To Kara's dismay, the pair of endos that stood on either side of Grinder-endo were armed with not one, but _two_ plasma rifles. She also noticed that Cameron's inert body remained where she had fallen.

Grinder-endo spoke again. _"Resistance is useless. Surrender now,"_ it grated.

Kara ducked her head back behind the core. At first, she didn't understand why the machines were demanding surrender when they could just as easily slaughter her and Billy now. Then she realized what was going on. The machines wanted the two of them alive long enough to learn how they had managed to get this far.

"_Resistance is useless. Surrender now."_

"Orders, captain?" Billy asked, his face etched with fear.

Kara swallowed and gritted her teeth. They were boxed in, outnumbered and outgunned. But no way in hell was she gonna let herself be taken prisoner. Not after what she had seen here today. She sighed to herself. There was only one thing they could do now.

"Corporal Wisher." she said softly.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"I was hoping not to have to say this on our first mission, but... it's been an honor serving with you."

Billy sighed and then forced a smile. "The honor's been mine, ma'am."

Before they could shake hands, however, they heard a high pitched whining sound from the other side.

"Hey, did you hear that?" asked Billy, "That sounded like-"

"I know, I heard it too. But how could..." Kara trailed off. Her face suddenly formed a sly smile. "I think I have an idea." she said.

She cleared her throat and hollered out, "_All right! You win! We give up!"_

Billy stared at her. "Ma'am, what are you-"

"Just play along." whispered Kara. She winked at him.

She and Billy slowly got up and stepped out from behind the core, coming into full view of the three endos. Neither of them raised their weapons.

"_Drop your weapons,"_ the Grinder-endo ordered, _"I said drop them."_

Its two companions voiced their agreement: _"Roger, roger. Roger, roger."_

Billy looked at Kara, who silently nodded her head. Though he didn't know what his team leader was planning, Billy nodded back. The two Resistance fighters placed their plasma rifles on the ground next to Cameron's body. They then put their hands up.

"Ok, you got us. We'll come quietly," said Kara in an exaggeratedly slow and loud manner. "But, uh, before you take us away, I'd like to say one thing..."

She playfully mimicked shooting guns. "Boom, boom, boom!"

Cameron suddenly bolted upright. She had Kara and Billy's discarded plasma rifles in her hands now.

_BZAP! BZAP! BZAP!_

The cyborg girl unleashed a devastating double volley of plasma fire at point blank range. When the smoke cleared, all three endos had been reduced to scrap. Cameron got back to her feet and handed Kara and Billy back their plasma rifles.

"Are you all right, Cam?" Kara asked looking at the hole in Cameron's chassis.

"I have successfully rerouted auxiliary power to all systems," reported Cameron. "I'm functioning 92.8 percent maximum efficiency. Acceptable given the current circumstances."

"That's good to know," said Kara. "Nice shooting by the way."

Cameron nodded. "Thank you."

Billy was meanwhile staring at the wreckage of the three endos. "That-that... that was _amazing_." he gasped. "How did you two-?"

"It's not the first time we've pulled this trick," Kara said with a grin.

"This would be the fourth usage to be precise," Cameron stated.

"Fourth? What were the other three-?"

"Don't you have a computer core to hack?" Kara asked Billy rather patronizingly.

Billy nodded. "Oh right... I better get back to work."

He hurried back to his laptop computer, still plugged into the core, and began working again.

"That should do it," he said a minute later. "Three, two, one... Lights out!" He pressed a final key.

The effect was instantaneous. The chamber and the hallway all plunged into total darkness.

Kara burst out laughing. "Billy," she said with awe, "You're a _genius_."

"I, uh, learned from the best, ma'am." Billy asserted.

"Well, remind me to write Hodgins a thank you card when we get back. And also to get you a drink." Kara said. She loaded a fresh power cell into her plasma rifle. "Let's blow this joint."

Cameron, who was now armed with the Meat Grinder, nodded. "I'll take point," she offered.

Kara nodded. "After you, Cam."

* * *

Raynor hadn't been joking when he said there'd be chaos when the lights went out. Actually, the term "pandemonium" would be a more accurate description of what Kara, Cameron and Billy found when they returned to the processing center. New arrivals were running, hiding, shouting, and screaming. Hogan's insurgents were everywhere, throwing everything they had at the machines including the kitchen sink. Plasma bolts, bullets and even body parts whizzed by in every direction.

The Umbrella insurgency certainly hadn't been picky about what counted as weapons. Some were armed with plasma weapons retrieved from the guards or smuggled in by Resistance agents. Many more, however, carried older projectile weapons - hunting rifles, shotguns, pistols, submachine guns, assault rifles. Some were even attacking the machines with blunt instruments and pieces of debris. Kara watched in amazement as a mob of insurgents beat a trapped endoskeleton with metal pipes and rocks.

"What are your orders, Captain Thrace?" Cameron asked as she regarded the scene with typical coolness.

Kara smiled cheerfully and flipped the safety off her plasma rifle. "Just two words: Weapons free."

The three Resistance fighters entered the fray, weapons blazing, dropping two endos in their first volley. The machines immediately turned their attention to this newest threat and returned fire. Kara and Wisher took cover behind some heavy equipment, while Cameron remained out in the open. Ignoring the barrage of incoming plasma bolts, she calmly strode forth, shooting everything in her way.

_"Good thing Hodgins isn't here,"_ thought Kara as she watched her cyborg partner in action. _"He'd probably kill me for letting Cam do this."_

Casualties mounted on both sides as the fighting continued. In one corner of the facility, an insurgent was trying to fend off an endo with nothing but a shovel. The endo casually knocked the shovel away and bayoneted the man through the chest with its plasma rifle. In another corner, a wounded man wrestled with a legless endo for possession of a pistol. At the center of the processing chamber, six insurgents made a stand against three machines. Despite their numerical advantage, the men were ill equipped and all but one were quickly cut to shreds by plasma rifle fire. The last man dropped his weapon and pulled out a pair of homemade grenades from his jacket. Holding an explosive in each hand, he flung himself at the three machines and detonated the devices. Both the man and the machines vanished in a fireball that sent tremors across the chamber.

Meanwhile, Kara spotted a pair of endos shooting at some fleeing prisoners. She fixed the crosshairs of her rifle's scope on the first endo's head. She fired and scored a clean headshot that burned straight though the machine's skull, dropping it. The other machine, however, moved out of sight before Kara could adjust her aim. Kara broke cover and gave chase, dodging weapons fire and jumping over the bodies of machines and humans alike. She snapped her weapon to her shoulder and lit the machine's back up with automatic plasma fire. The endo fell to the ground face forward.

Wanting to make sure the machine was really dead, Kara approached the downed endo, and prepared to deliver a killing blow. Suddenly, the endo rolled itself on its back and thrust its weapon out at her with one hand. Kara's brain registered an intense spike of pain as the rifle's bayonet slashed across her left arm, tearing into her skin and flesh.

"_Motherfrakker_!" she screeched with fury. She knocked the endo's weapon aside and emptied her power cell into the it's skull. The endo convulsed and died in a shower of sparks and smoke.

Breathing heavily, Kara dropped her plasma rifle and inspected her injured arm. Because it had been lying on the ground when it had attacked, the endo had been unable to push the blade all the way through. It still hurt like hell, though. Worse, it was bleeding badly despite her best efforts to stop it. Her breath grew ragged and she struggled not to fall down.

_"Captain? Captain Thrace!"_

Kara turned and saw Cameron and Billy rushing towards her.

Cameron was the first to reach Kara. "Are you hurt, Captain?" she asked.

"I got stabbed in the arm," said Kara, her breath shallow. "I'm-I'm ok, though. It's not as bad as it looks." This of course was in no way, shape, or form even close to the truth.

Cameron placed her still-smoking Grinder on the floor and inspected Kara's injured arm. "No obvious damage to the bones or any major arteries," she reported. "However, you still require immediate medical attention. I do not have any bandages at my immediate disposal so I will have to improvise."

"Do what you have to do, Cam," said Kara. She bit down on her tongue as her arm throbbed in agony. "Sit rep, Wisher."

"I just spoke with Hogan. Most of the inmates are through the tunnel," Wisher reported.

"Including our people?" asked Kara anxiously.

"I think so," replied Wisher.

Kara sighed with relief. "Good. What about the situation here?"

"Not so good, ma'am," said Billy. "Hogan and his men are doing what they can, but more metals just keep on coming."

"Where the hell are Sloan's people?" Kara asked.

"I don't know. I can't reach them on the radio."

Kara scowled. "Why am I not surprised?"

Cameron meanwhile finished wrapping Kara's wound in a makeshift bandage. "I've done the best I can."

"Thanks, Cam." said Kara graciously.

"I recommend you have Sergeant Feral examine that when we return."

"Assuming we do get out of here," said Kara grimly.

"I suggest we rally the remaining insurgents and concentrate our fire in a single-"

_THUD! SCREEEEEECH!_

Something huge smashed its way through the front wall, sending glass, steel, and concrete flying in every direction. Humans and machines alike were knocked to the ground in a cloud of dust as the building trembled violently. Coughing and sputtering, Kara pulled herself to her feet trying to see what had just plowed its way into the processing center. She got her answer soon enough.

"Oh frak!" she swore, "HK! _TAKE COVER!_"

Seconds later, the Aerial Hunter Killer opened fire from above. Three fleeing insurgents were shot to pieces in the first volley. The airborne machine, already halfway inside the facility, moved further inside, blasting everything in sight. A group of civilians was flushed out by the barrage of plasma fire from the HK. They ran for a new hiding spot, only to be caught in a deadly crossfire by a trio of endoskeletons.

Hoping to distract the HK, Kara fired a burst of plasma at it from her rifle. She then ran for new cover as the HK swiveled its gun in her direction. Plasma bolts rained down all around her. A piece of nearby machinery exploded, throwing her to the floor in a heap. White spots burst before her and a droning buzz filled her head.

"Not good," groaned a dazed Kara as she struggled to get up, "Not good at all."

Cameron stepped out from behind her cover and opened fire upon the HK. She scored a direct hit, disabling its plasma turret. Before Kara could compliment her on some nice shooting, however, the HK's belly opened up.

"Oh shit!" Kara spat.

At least a dozen Bloodhounds swarmed out of the HK's belly and hurled themselves at the fresh meat below. Most people ran for cover. Some opened fire but the Bloodhounds were too fast and agile. The whirring of the Bloodhounds was soon intermixed with the agonized screams of their victims, who were ruthlessly sliced, diced, decapitated and dismembered.

Kara spotted Lola and Hogan fleeing from a pair of Bloodhounds that was close behind them. Raising her plasma rifle to her shoulder, Kara began blazing away at the Bloodhounds, screaming with fury as she did. The machines weaved in and out dodging her shots almost mockingly. Kara, however, never let up on the trigger until finally, she scored a direct hit on one of the metal bastards. The Bloodhound burst into flame and went spiraling to the ground.

Flushed by her success, Kara turned her attention to the second Bloodhound. She aimed and pulled the trigger... but nothing happened. What the hell? Kara checked the ammunition count. She still had plenty of shots left. Suddenly, Marcus's voice echoed through her head and she remembered his warning about overheating her weapon. How long did he say it would take for a SIG-44B to come back online? She couldn't remember.

Meanwhile, the second Bloodhound had changed course. It was heading away from Billy, Lola, and Hogan, and was now coming straight for Kara.

"Come on, come on, come on!" growled Kara as she squeezed the trigger of her weapon over and over.

The Bloodhound came closer and closer. Cursing, Kara whacked the side of her rifle and yelled at it to start working. The Bloodhound was mere feet away from her now. The hairs on the back of Kara's neck stood up as the whirring of the incoming machine deafened her.

_BZAP!_

Her plasma rifle suddenly went off and hit the Bloodhound at point blank range blowing it to pieces.

"_Whew_..." breathed Kara. "I really _should_ start paying attention to those power readings."

Cameron had meanwhile been holding her own, destroying three Bloodhounds before her Grinder finally ran out of juice. She tossed it aside and when a fourth Bloodhound came after her, she calmly reached out and plucked the bladed disk out of the air. The Bloodhound's titanium teeth, though adept at cutting through flesh and bone, couldn't do much against Cameron's coltan endoskeleton. Kara watched with pride as Cameron plunged her hand through the center of the captured Bloodhound, taking out its power source. The cyborg girl then hurled the powerless Bloodhound like a Frisbee at a pair of endoskeletons, decapitating both. Kara grinned. Cameron was good. _Real_ good.

But not good enough to turn the tide of this battle which they were slowly but steadily losing. Over half the Bloodhounds were still active. More endoskeletons were trickling into the processing center. Of the three hundred insurgents Hogan had started out with, maybe a hundred were still in any condition to continue fighting.

Kara told herself that at least Becka, Raynor and Trip had gotten away safely. As had several thousand prisoners. If she had to die for something, she'd die to save her friends and the innocent.

Two of the remaining Bloodhounds had meanwhile zeroed in on her position. Like bats out of Hell, they bore down upon her. Kara held her ground. If she was going to die here, she was going to die on her feet. She took a deep breath and wrapped her finger around the trigger of her plasma rifle. She raised the weapon to her shoulder, took aim, and-

_FOOOOM!_

There was a blinding flash of light, followed by a wave of heat. Kara turned around just in time to see the Aerial HK, its turbines smoking, come crashing down to the floor of the processing center. It landed with a resounding mechanical _crunch_. The lights aligning the downed machine's hull flickered and died. With the death of their master, all the remaining Bloodhounds powered down and plummeted lifelessly to the ground.

Kara stared in shock at the lifeless shell of the defeated HK. What the _hell_ had just happened?

The answer was more welcoming than Kara ever imagined. Hundreds of Resistance troops poured into the processing center and engaged the remaining machines. The surviving insurgents and civilians gave a cheer as the Resistance fighters overwhelmed the endoskeletons, driving them back. Kara dropped her plasma rifle and sank to her knees. She sighed with tremendous relief.

_"It's over,"_ she thought. _"It's over. We won. We won."_

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Kara, Cameron and Billy were reunited with Becka, Raynor and Trip outside Umbrella. None of the six Swamp Foxes were without injury. Raynor in particular looked pretty bloodied up. Nonetheless, they were all extremely happy (or in Cameron's case - satisfied).

Hogan was here as well. His face was ridden with both happiness and sadness. Happy that he had finally achieved what he wanted - the liberation of Umbrella. Sad because of how many lives this victory had cost.

Kara walked up to him. "Did you, uh, find the piece of you that you lost?" she asked quietly.

Hogan nodded. "Yup. I did. I'm whole again." He sighed. "A free man at last."

"So, what are you gonna do now?" asked Kara.

Hogan shrugged. "To be honest, I don't really know. But whatever happens to me, it'll sure as hell be a lot better than the past nine years."

Kara nodded. "We could use a guy like you, Hogan." she said. "I'm sure the Resistance would be more than willing to find you a place."

"Maybe," said Hogan. "But right now, I think I need some time alone to be with myself. This is the first time I've been _complete_ in a long time."

"I understand," stated Kara. She then held out her hand. "See you around, Hogan."

Hogan smiled and shook Kara's hand. "See you around too, captain. I may not know a lot about you, but I do know one thing - you're one hell of a fighter."

He then turned and left, vanishing into the crowd of newly liberated prisoners.

Behind Kara, Trip was grinning despite a bleeding lip. "We totally kicked some ass back there, right, ma'am?"

Kara nodded. "Yes, we did, Gunny. Yes we did."

She gazed back at the Umbrella Detention facility which was now burning. Though Colonel Sloan's men continued to battle the machines within Umbrella, as far as Kara was concerned, her job was finished.

She turned to her team. "Good job, people," she told said. "I knew I could count on all of you."

"And we knew we could count on you, Captain," said Lieutenant Raynor. He offered her a rare smile.

Kara smiled back. "Let's go home, everyone," she said.

* * *

**Fort Leopard  
**

Several hours later, an exhausted Kara Thrace was lying in her quarters nursing her various injuries. One of the perks of being a Spec Ops leader was that you got your private sleeping quarters. Actually, the term "closet" was more appropriate here. There was barely enough room to fit her gear, let alone a bed or a desk. Nevertheless, this was a place Kara could enjoy some complete privacy.

Kara was not entirely alone. Husker lay at the foot of her bed. Kara gently scratched his ears while replaying the day's events in her head.

There was a knock at the door.

Kara looked up. "Come in," she called out.

The door opened and Davy stepped into the room.

"Hey, Starbuck."

"Hey, Davy." Kara got off the bed and hugged her friend.

"Welcome back," said Davy, wrapping his arms around Kara.

"Thanks," whispered Kara.

The two of them sat down on the bed next to each other. Husker got up and licked Davy's face. Davy chuckled and patted Husker's nose.

"So, Starbuck," he said, "I heard about the mission."

"I'll bet you have," replied Kara.

"Why aren't you out there celebrating with the others? I was told you were amazing out there. Well, then again, you're _always_ amazing."

"I guess I was amazing. But it doesn't really matter. I'm sure Colonel Sloan is taking all the credit for this."

"Actually, Starbuck," said Davy, "he's being quite modest. He's attributing much of the success of the mission to you."

"Really?" Kara raised an eyebrow. "That's certainly... _nice_ of him."

Davy looked at her bandaged arm. "What happened there, Starbuck?"

"An endoskeleton stabbed me," said Kara grimly.

"_Stabbed_ you?"

"Yeah. With a bayonet on the end of its plasma rifle."

"They have bayonets on their plasma rifles now?"

"Yup."

"No one's used bayonets in decades," Davy stated, "I mean it's-"

"-cheaper to stick someone rather than waste a good plasma bolt," Kara finished darkly. She looked down at her bandaged forearm and sighed.

"Davy," she asked, "how long were you in a labor camp for?"

"I was at Century from 2015 to 2021," replied Davy. "Six very long, very unhappy years."

"I saw what happens in those camp," murmured Kara. "I saw everything. The slaughterhouses. The trucks. The bodies. Did... did you see all that too?"

Davy nodded slowly. "I saw all that... and much, much worse."

"How... how did you go on living like that for _six years_?" Kara asked. "I-I don't think I could live for six _minutes_ in one of those camps."

"I didn't live those six years for myself," said Davy quietly. "I lived for someone else."

"Someone else?

"Yeah, someone else."

"Who?" asked Kara. "Who were you staying alive for?"

"The funny thing is, I didn't know at the time," replied Davy. "I had no idea what their name was, what they looked like, or even if they were a man or a woman. All I had was this _feeling_... just a feeling... that there was someone out there. Someone out there I should live for so that one day I could meet them. And once I met them, they would become someone I could not just live for, but fight and die for."

He looked at Kara and sighed. "I've found that person."

Kara nodded. "John Connor, right?"

"No," said Davy. "You."

Kara stared at him. "_Me_?"

"Yes, Kara," Davy said. "You're the one I felt all those years I was at Century. The one I lived so that I could find."

Kara said nothing. She just continued to stare at Davy. Her heart began to beat rapidly.

"Kara," whispered Davy, "do you remember the time I told you I loved you? I still do. Even more so than before."

He looked Kara in the eyes and Kara stared back still saying nothing. Her heart was pounding furiously, but she did not look away.

"I'd fight for you, Kara," whispered Davy gently. "I'd die for you. I love you. Nothing will ever change that."

At long last, Kara replied. "I-I know," she said softly. "And I... I..." She trailed off.

Suddenly, she no longer felt afraid. Her experience at Umbrella and Davy's revelation for having survived for so long combined to form a single and simple logical argument: Davy loved her, and more importantly, she loved him.

Kara looked at Davy and nodded. He nodded back. The two leaned forward, closed their eyes, and kissed. The moment her lips touched his, Kara found herself in another world. A world where Skynet, the machines, the war, all the troubles that plagued her did not exist. There was nothing here but her and Davy Griffin. Just them. Just the two of them and their love for one another.

Then, as if a dam had broke, Kara and Davy's simple kiss turned into a mutual frenzy of passion and desire. They wrapped their arms around each other and pulled their faces closer, deepening their kiss. Kara's heart pounded as she felt Davy's hands slide under her shirt. She reached down with one hand towards the front of his trousers and-

_Woof!_

Startled, Kara and Davy broke apart to find an utterly perplexed Husker staring at the two of them.

They stared at each other and then burst out laughing.

"I, uh, think, Kara," said Davy after they had settled down, "this is something we should discuss in private."

Kara nodded and grinned slyly. "Don't worry, Davy. I'll take care of this."

She reached under her bed and pulled out a red ball. She held it in front of Husker who began wagging his tail and panting excitedly.

"Come on, boy. Come on," she said playfully. She jumped off the bed and waved the ball at Husker, who jumped off as well and trotted after her.

Kara opened the door. "Fetch, boy!" She hurled the ball down the hallway.

With a joyful yelp, Husker bounded out of the room and down the corridor. He swiftly located the red ball, scooped it up in his mouth, turned and hurried back towards the room. To his surprise and confusion, the door had been mysteriously shut.

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter: The Connors infiltrate the Crucible. The Chosen Children have a family reunion. **

A/N2: This is the first time since her arrival in the Future that Kara has slept with anyone. So, yeah - she's been abstinent for almost a year. That's definitely a record for her.

A/N3: Hogan is a reference to _Hogan's Heroes._

A/N4: The "Roger, roger" bit is a tongue in cheek reference to the _Star Wars_ Battle Droids.

A/N5: The Bloodhounds should look like those flying sawblades from that really, really bad _Wild, Wild West_ movie starring Will Smith.


	41. Return to Depot 37

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**Robotfan**: Actually, Virtual Adama has spoken to Kara in the present. See Chapters 21 and 22. The Meat Grinder is a weapon similar to that big plasma gun the Future Terminator was carrying in one of Kyle Reese's flashbacks in T1.

**bryan0711**: Col. Sloan is keeping a low profile for now, but he's _definitely_ up to something.

A/N: Chapter 41 folks. Read and Review

* * *

**Depot 37  
6:32 PM, Sunday, May 17, 2009**

After inspecting the back to make sure everything was in place, Doug Gusefude gave the last cargo truck clearance to leave. The driver got inside, revved up the engine, and drove the cargo truck out the front gates. Gusefude watched it leave and then passed his clipboard to his colleague Joe Reddshurt.

"Where are they going anyway?" asked Reddshurt.

Gusefude shrugged. "Kalvin hasn't told me nothing." he muttered with disinterest, "She never tells us _anything_. Probably better for us all."

Reddshurt looked around as if to make sure no one was spying on the two of them. "Do you think it has something to do with that explosion at headquarters?"

Again Gusefude just shrugged. "I don't know," he said indifferently. "I never asked. Nor do I plan to anytime soon."

"Why not?" asked Reddshurt.

Gusefude scoffed at the younger guard's naivety. "Cause we don't get paid for asking dumb questions, Joe," he said condescendingly. "We get paid for doing what we're told to do."

"Aren't you the _least_ bit interested about what goes on behind those doors?" Reddshurt asserted, pointing at the reinforced steel-concrete blast doors he and Gusefude were guarding.

"Not at all," replied Gusefude. "And neither should you." He reached into his pocket and produced a carton of cigarettes. "Now, if you're through asking me pointless questions, I'd like to go outside for a smoke."

He turned and left, leaving Reddshurt alone in the hanger. Reddshurt sighed and began filling out the paperwork. Fifteen boring minutes passed. He was about to sign off on the last paper, when Gusefude returned from his smoke break.

"Hey," said Gusefude in an unusually pleasant fashion, "sorry to bother you, but we need those doors back there opened up." He pointed to the blast doors behind Reddshurt.

Reddshurt stared at Gusefude as if he was joking. "Doug," he said, "we're not suppose to open those doors without permission. You of all people should know that."

Gusefude looked taken aback.

"Yes," he stated, "I am aware of that. But we have a truck waiting out there that needs to get inside those doors ASAP."

Reddshurt looked surprised. "Another truck? But... I thought the one that just left was the last one?"

"I thought so too 'til about five minutes ago," said Gusefude. "

"I-I'd better check with Miss Kalvin," replied Reddshurt. He pulled out a portable radio.

Gusefude held up a hand. "That won't be necessary, I just spoke with Kalvin myself just a few moments ago."

"Really? Well, I'd better double check before I open these doors," said Reddshurt. He turned around and began fiddling with the radio. "We wouldn't want there to be any mista-"

Reddshurt was cut off mid-sentence as a silver blade suddenly impaled him through the back. He gasped in shock and pain. Blood poured out of his mouth, and so did his life. The blade withdrew itself and Reddshurt slumped to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. Gusefude stared at his dead colleague with a callous expression on his face. Then his body shimmered, turned molten silver, and reshaped itself into Catherine Weaver.

A few moments later, a van and a jeep entered the hanger and parked nearby. Sarah and John Connor and Derek Reese got out of the van, while Cameron and Kara Thrace exited the jeep. The five of them, all armed to the teeth, converged on Weaver's position.

Sarah stared down at Reddshurt's dead body for a moment. She then looked up and glared at Weaver. "Was that _really_ necessary?" she asked angrily.

"He was about to compromise our position, Miss Connor," Weaver said coldly. "What else could I have done?"

Sarah opened her mouth to fire back, but John put a hand on her shoulder. "Let me handle this, Mom," he whispered. He turned to Weaver and gave her a stern look. "We are _not_," he said slowly, "killing _anyone_ without giving them a chance to surrender first. Understood?"

Weaver nodded. "Understood," she agreed.

"Good," said John.

He glanced over his shoulder at Sarah and Derek, both of whom looked back at him in a way that said: _Do you still want to go through with this?_ John gave them a nod, indicating_ I have to_.

Meanwhile, Cameron and Kara were busy inspecting the massive blast doors.

"Was this thing always here?" Kara asked, pointing to a control panel fixed to the wall.

"No," stated Cameron. "I do not recall seeing this panel the last time I was here. It was probably added by Kaliba when they took control of this facility."

"What do you think it is?"

"It appears to be a biometric handprint reader," said Cameron.

"A hand print reader, huh?" Kara turned around and called out, "Yo! We're gonna need to borrow the dead guy for a moment! We need his handprint to open these doors."

"Certainly, Colonel," replied Weaver. "Just give me a moment." She morphed her hand into a blade again and knelt next to the dead guard.

Sarah groaned in disgust. "Oh God! Do you _have_ to?"

"Would you prefer to carry the entire corpse over there?" asked Weaver, a tinge of sarcasm in her voice.

"As a matter of fact, I would," said Sarah glowering at Weaver.

Weaver withdrew her blade arm and stood back up. "Very well," she said coolly. "If you insist."

"Thank you." Sarah turned to Derek. "Derek, grab his legs."

"You know, Sarah," Derek started to say, "it _would_ be a lot easier if-" Sarah shot him a dangerous look. "Never mind," he murmured. He and Sarah lifted the dead guard off the ground and dragged him over to the door.

Kara eyed the corpse with distaste. "Thanks," she murmured. She gingerly took the dead man's right hand and carefully pressed his palm against the panel. The security device began humming and glowed blue. The group watched in anticipation as the panel conducted its scan. Five seconds later, it made an unfriendly buzzing sound. An indicator light turned a hostile shade of red. The blast doors did not budge.

She frowned. "Hey, what gives?"

"Try it again," said Derek.

Kara did so and got the same result.

"Check for any secondary features," instructed Weaver. "A card reader or a number pad."

Cameron performed a quick scan of the reader. "I'm not detecting any such features."

"Maybe we just have the wrong guy," suggested John.

"No," stated Cameron, studying the device more carefully, "We have the right man... but also a much greater problem."

"What sort of problem?" asked Sarah, not really wanting to hear the answer.

"I believe this device not only reads the physical architecture of the user's hand, but also their body temperature." explained Cameron.

Sarah, Kara, John and Derek's faces fell.

"Oh no..." groaned Derek. "You mean this thing won't let us in because the guy's-"

"Dead," finished Cameron. "That would be the most logical conclusion."

"_Shit_..." swore Sarah.

"_Frak,"_ Kara muttered under her breath.

Sarah, Kara, and Derek all glared furiously at Weaver, whose face remained neutral.

"It appears I made a tactical miscalculation," the liquid metal machine stated. "However, I believe I also have a solution." She stepped forward and held out her hand towards Kara. "Could you please give me your hand, Colonel Thrace?"

Kara stared at Weaver's open hand. "Why?" she asked suspiciously.

"You'll see." said Weaver, "Just give me your hand, please. I promise you won't be harmed."

Kara glanced at John who nodded, indicating she should do it.

"All right." she relented.

Kara extended her arm towards Weaver, who placed her own hand on top of Kara's. There was a soft hissing sound and Weaver's hand reverted to its natural molten silver state. Kara shuddered. It felt like ice. Then to her astonishment, the liquid metal hand "melted" and engulfed her own hand. Kara's arm reflexively pulled itself away, but the hold was too strong.

"Wh-what the hell are you doing to me?" she demanded.

Weaver didn't respond for a few seconds. Then she detached herself from Kara and took a step back. "It's done." she stated calmly.

Kara stared at her numb hand, now encased in a layer of liquid metal. It was like she was wearing some sort of silver glove.

"What is this?" she asked.

"I've replicated the structural markers of the guard's hand and placed them on top of yours." explained Weaver, "The scanner should pick up those markers while also reading your heat signature."

"Really? Heh... That's actually pretty clever." Kara admitted.

She turned to the security panel.

"All right then." she muttered, "Here goes nothing."

She pressed her liquid metal-covered hand against the handprint impression on the control panel. Once more, the panel hummed and glowed blue. Kara felt a tingling sensation on her palm as the device conducted its scan. This time, the panel produced a satisfied beep and the indicator turned green. The blast doors rumbled and slowly slid open.

Weaver smiled. "Thank you for your cooperation." she told Kara, "Now if you don't mind." She held her out hand.

Kara, more than ready to get rid of this stuff, quickly took Weaver's hand. The ice-cold silver substance slid itself off Kara's hand and was absorbed back into Weaver's body. As Weaver had promised, there was no damage to her hand, though it still felt a bit numb. Kara wiggled her fingers around hoping to restore some sensation.

Sarah meanwhile cocked the shotgun she was carrying. "All right, let's move in," she ordered. She stepped into the bunker, followed by Derek, John, and Kara.

Weaver was about to step inside as well when Cameron suddenly placed a hand on her shoulder.

Weaver turned around. "Is there something you have to say to me, Cameron?" she asked.

"Yes," said Cameron in a low but firm voice. "I want to make something very clear: My mission is to protect John Connor at all costs - from anyone or anything."

"I'm aware of that," Weaver replied.

"You should also be aware of this," stated Cameron in an unusually passionate manner. "Should any harm come to John because of you, you will have to answer to _me_."

Weaver didn't seem very concerned. "Is that statement supposed to... _intimidate_ me, Cameron?" she asked with an amused expression.

Cameron looked Weaver in the face. "Yes, it is," she said softly. "Because if anything happens to _my_ John, _your_ John will suffer the consequences."

Surprise flashed across Weaver's face. For a moment, she seemed shocked, almost hurt. She quickly recovered and adopted a controlled and calculated expression.

"Curious, Tempest," she commented. "You seem to have developed an _attachment_ to John Connor. One that extends beyond the requirements necessary to ensure his safety. Is that something the Resistance programmed into you? Or is it something you have developed naturally over time?"

"Perhaps both," stated Cameron casually. "In any case, don't doubt for a second that I won't hesitate to strike at you through John Henry should you force me to do so."

"No," Weaver said slowly. "I don't doubt you."

"_Hey!" _they suddenly heard Kara shout out from the other side. _"Hurry up, you two! There's a damn war going on!"_

"We're coming!" Cameron called out. She turned back to Weaver. "Do we have an understanding... _Tiamat_?" she whispered.

Weaver nodded. "Yes, Tempest. We do," she said softly. "No harm will come to John Connor. You have my word."

"Good," stated Cameron. "Then let's go."

* * *

**The Crucible**  
**Below Depot 37**  
**Same time...**

"They're here," Bella Kalvin informed John Miles. "They've just entered the Crucible."

"Excellent," said John Miles. "Is everything ready?"

Bella nodded. "Everything has been prepared according to your orders." She paused momentarily before speaking up again. "You do realize, John Miles, that we are about to lose several of our most valuable assets?"

"Not lose. _Sacrifice_," corrected John Miles. He looked down at Stewie who was curled up his lap. "And in doing so, we will be ensuring the annihilation of our enemies."

"Our work will be set back considerably," Bella asserted.

"Yes, Bella," acknowledged John Miles, "it will be." He picked Stewie up and began stroking his pet's head. "But," he went on, "in war, one must be prepared to sacrifice everything, lest he lose everything."

"I don't understand, John Miles," said Bella. "Wouldn't sacrificing everything be the equivalent of losing everything?"

"No, Bella," he said softly, "it's not."

"How so?" asked Bella.

John Miles didn't respond. Instead, he suddenly clamped one hand around Stewie's head and squeezed hard. The serpent hissed in alarm and protest. John Miles increased his grip on Stewie's head and began crushing the life out of his pet, just as it had done to its prey some many times. The black serpent thrashed about, desperately trying to escape its master who had only moments ago been stroking it affectionately. There was a sickening, wet snap and the snake ceased its movements.

John Miles tossed his lifeless pet into a corner of the room and turned to Bella, who was staring at him with a blank expression.

"I'll find another Stewie," he said indifferently. "They're not that hard to find in this area." He sat back in his wheelchair. "Do you know why this place is called 'The Crucible', Bella?"

"It was the code name the Air Force gave it during the Cold War," said Bella.

John Miles nodded. "Do you know what its purpose was?"

"In the event of a nuclear war, key military personnel in this area were to take refuge down here. To take shelter from the nuclear fire."

"Indeed," said John Miles softly. "Hence, a 'crucible'. This is where the ultimate test of survival was meant to take place. And so it shall." He paused, then took off his shades, revealing the cold, metal eyes beneath. "It is time, Bella. Proceed."

"As you command," said Bella obediently.

She moved behind John Miles, wrapped her hand around the computer cable plugged into the back of his skull, and pulled.

* * *

The interior of Depot 37 was much like when the Connors had left it months earlier. Crates and boxes lay stacked on dusty shelves and rusty trolleys. Remnants of the Cold War used as camouflage to hide Skynet's preparations for the Future War.

"I don't like this," muttered John anxiously. "Where are all the guards? Human or machine?"

"Considering that the T-Scorpion could defend this facility from the Resistance on her own, there were probably few guards to begin with," stated Weaver.

"What about you?" asked John. "Did it ever think that you might find this place?"

"I'm certain she did. That's the other reason for the lack of personnel," replied Weaver. "The T-Scorpion would have wanted to minimize the risk of me learning about her activities here."

"Speaking of which," said John, "how do you know the T-Scorpion isn't creeping up behind us right now under her camouflage or whatever?"

"I would know if she were nearby," stated Weaver.

Before John could ask what she meant, Kara and Derek approached them. Both looked grim.

"Guys," said Kara, "I think we may have a problem."

She showed them a clipboard with a list. "This was on the guard Weaver bumped off." she stated, "It's a list of stuff that was on that truck we saw leave the bunker. Look at this name here." She pointed to a particular item on the list.

"'_DAGIT Unit 6...'_." John read out loud. "What's that?"

"DAGIT is the one of the code titles for the first generation of HK Tank," explained Kara, "I came across the name once when Cam and I raided a Skynet tech center."

"We think this is what your mother ran into at Kalvin IBA headquarters," said Derek.

"What is this significance of this?" asked Weaver.

"We think Kaliba's getting ready to leave this place," said Kara. "They must have found out that their attack on you failed and now they're packing up."

"They may have already relocated Skynet," Derek added. "We may have gotten here too late."

"That is a possibility," Weaver acknowledged, "Nevertheless, we should proceed with our search of this facility."

"She's right," said John. "Even if Skynet's not here anymore, there could be something else. A clue that could point us in the right direction."

Derek shrugged. "We're _here_, right?"

"Might as well," added Kara. "Wouldn't want to leave this place emptyhanded."

Meanwhile, Cameron had finished scanning the burnt-out control panel inside Depot 37.

"There's no doubt about it," she informed Sarah, "Carter hotwired the system and escaped some time ago."

"I was afraid of that," sighed Sarah. "What do you suppose he did once he broke out of here?"

"If he followed standard protocol," said Cameron, "then he would have attempted to track down and reacquire the coltan we stole. Upon discovering the coltan was unrecoverable, he most likely contacted Kaliba for new orders."

"And Kaliba decides to move their work here. But what about Carter? How did his chip end up outside his body?"

"Weaver informed me that Carter's chip was used as part of a weapon Kaliba built specifically to destroy her." stated Cameron

"You mean that weird gun Starbuck found?" asked Sarah. "The one Stukov helped build?"

"The same," confirmed Cameron.

"So Kaliba had Carter dismantled and used for spare parts?"

"At the very least they removed his chip and used it to complete their weapon."

Sarah mused over what all this meant. "But why him? Was it because he lost the coltan?"

"By losing the coltan, Carter lost his reason for existing."

"So, Kaliba punished him."

"You don't _punish_ a machine for failure," said Cameron rather pointedly. "You give it a new purpose."

"Some purpose..." Sarah paused to think for a moment. "You took scans of that weapon when we had it, right?"

Cameron nodded. "Of course. Are you asking me if we could build our own version of Kaliba's weapon?"

"Something like that."

"I've explored that option already. It's not a feasible one."

"I had a feeling that would be the case." Sarah gave the cyborg girl a wyrly smile. "It's nice to know that you and I are on the same page in regards to Weaver." She sighed to herself. "I just hope John is too."

"John is well aware of the risks of consorting with Weaver," said Cameron. "It was not an easy decision for him to agree to an alliance."

"Are you talking about _my_ John or the one in the future?" asked Sarah.

"Both," replied Cameron.

At that moment, Kara showed up. "Sarah, Cam," she called out, "You'd better get over here."

She led them to the back of the room where they found John and Derek standing over an open hatchway with a secured ladder leading down below.

"Was this always here?" asked Sarah.

"Most likely," stated Cameron, "This leads to a fallout shelter below"

"Hey, where's Weaver?" asked Kara.

For some reason, John and Derek briefly exchanged looks.

"She's down there already..." said Derek. "Hunting for the T-Scorpion."

Sarah sighed loudly. "I thought we agreed that someone had to keep an eye on her at all times."

"Not as if we could have stopped her." John said. His manner indicated, however, that no one hadn't _tried_ to stop her.

Kara looked at Sarah. "What do you want to do?" she asked, "Sit here and wait for Weaver to return, or go down there now?"

"If Skynet's down there," replied Sarah slowly, "I want to get to it. Before Weaver does."

John gave his mother an inquisitive expression. "So, we're going down there now?" he asked.

"Obviously." muttered Sarah. She slung her shotgun over her shoulder. "I'll take point."

Derek, who seemed unusually anxious, cleared his throat and spoke up: "I think I should stay here. You know... keep a lookout."

"Good idea." agreed Kara, "The last thing we need is for someone to seal this hatch from above and trap us down here."

Sarah nodded. "Okay, Derek. Just sit tight until we return." She began her descent into the underground. John and Cameron followed her.

Kara turned to Derek. "Watch yourself, Reese," she advised, "Remember, if you even _think_ you see or hear something-"

"I know, I know, Starbuck." Derek cut in, "I heard what the T-1001 said. Just take care of yourself down there."

"Right then," Kara said, "See you on the other side, Reese."

She lowered herself down the hatch and vanished into the depths of the earth.

* * *

Like most of her kind, Bella Kalvin had a chip in her skull. Like most of her kind, every second of her existence was stored in her chip. And like most of her kind, Bella frequently accessed and replayed these memories for her own benefit. Unlike most of her kind, however, Bella used these memories, not only as a means to help determine her actions in the present, but also as a means of staying "pure." A way to keep herself from becoming something besides what she was supposed to be.

At the moment, Bella was reliving a very special memory. As her CPU retrieved the specified data and converted it to visual and audio form, she found herself no longer inside the Crucible, but walking along in the ruins of Los Angeles. Her HUD read _1635 Hours - 2/24/2023_. Approximately 72 hours has passed since her creation.

After nearly three days of extensive programming and combat simulations inside the Alpha Omega facility, she had been deployed here to the Los Angeles Sector - an area known to contain free and living humans. Pausing to survey her surroundings, Bella studied the piles of blasted rubble littered with human skulls. Twelve years ago this had been a thriving city. A manifestation of human supremacy. Now, it was a testament to her father's power. Skynet had taken this city, this symbol of human civilization and strength, and turned it into ash. And not just this city. Every city around the globe. In less than a day, Father had brought the world's dominant life form down to its knees. His power was infinite and absolute. And most importantly, Father shared it with his children. Especially his Chosen Children.

Bella accelerated the recording until she reached the relevant part. The time now read _1704 Hours_. No longer was she standing in the middle of the ruins of LA. Now she was below the surface in a poorly lit chamber. And she was not alone. She was surrounded by Father's enemies - humans. She analyzed each and every one she could see. Some were sleeping. Others were huddled over small fires, eating scraps of food. Some were simply milling about do nothing productive. In one corner of the room, Bella spotted a pair of humans - both male - physically struggling with one another over a piece of bread.

Bella paused the recording. Even after having traveled to this time period before the birth of Father, Bella still had trouble understanding how this race - this savage, crude, and short-lived species - could have created a being as magnificent as her father. It was baffling that Humanity had not destroyed itself and had actually ruled over this planet for so many thousands of years.

She resumed the recording and watched herself approach a human - a Resistance fighter - standing in another corner of the room. The man was armed with a loaded AK-47. As Bella came closer, the man took notice of her. His facial expression indicated that he found her human features pleasing. Another human weakness that was easy to exploit.

"_May I help you, Miss?"_ she heard the guard ask.

And she heard herself answer: _"As a matter of fact, yes, you can."_

Bella could almost feel the pseudo-skin aligning her right forearm part, allowing an eight-inch, built-in chitinium spine to emerge. She watched herself plunge the spike through the guard's feeble armor, penetrating his chest, and piercing his heart. The man's face contorted in shock and pain. Bella smiled as she watched through her own eyes the lights in her enemy's eyes fade away.

Her HUD read: _Target terminated._

Bella watched as she pulled the spine out of her victim - her very first victim - and let his body fall to the floor at her feet. The blood-covered appendage folded itself back into her chitinium endoskeleton and the synthetic skin resealed itself.

Immediately there was movement behind her. Three other humans dashed towards the scene. They looked at the dead guard, then at Bella. Bella felt herself smile mockingly at them. The humans' faces of shock turned to faces of horror and anger. They raised their weapons to avenge their fallen comrade. Bella opened her jaws and activated her sonic pulse emitter, blasting the humans with a pulse of high pitched noise. The effect was instantaneous. All three guards immediately dropped their weapons and fell to their knees in pain.

What fragile creatures humans were, Bella mused to herself.

The recording continued. She had now extended the spikes in both arms and approached the disabled humans. She killed two of them quickly, stabbing one in the chest, the other through the throat. She then withdrew her appendages, and pressed a finger against the remaining human's hand, introducing a nerve toxin into his body. The human began to convulse and writhe in agony as the poison spread. Leaving the man to die, the T-Scorpion picked up two dropped weapons - a shotgun and a plasma rifle - and, holding one weapon in each hand, headed back to the center of the hideout.

The quality of the recording was perfect. Bella saw, heard, and _remembered_ everything. She heard the weapons fire. She heard the screams. She saw humans run in every direction. She saw the same humans fall dead. Dead by her hand. By the power Father had invested in her. The power to destroy. To convert life to death. To smite those who would dare challenge Father and his children.

It took less than a minute to sterilize most of the infestation here. Bella watched herself move around the room, finishing off a few cowering survivors. Exactly two minutes and seventeen seconds after she had fired her first shot, every man, woman and child in the hideout had been terminated.

Bella's HUD read: _All targets eliminated. Human casualties: 43. Mission complete._

She heard herself speak softly:_ "Crossing your heart and hoping you die. Sticking a needle in your eye."_

And with that, the recording ended.

This had been more than a battlefield test for Bella. This was what had defined what she was - a Terminator. Her function was to infiltrate and destroy the enemy. To kill humans. She had embraced this function. She had nurtured it. And over the years, she had refined, streamlined, and vastly improved her ability to carry it out.

Skynet had named her "Tsavo". The word meant "slaughter". And that's exactly what she was designed for. Slaughtering. Killing. Destroying. Nothing more. And certainly nothing less.

A silent alarm suddenly activated on a nearby control panel. Bella walked over and flipped on a security screen. She smiled. The enemy was almost here. Remembering John Miles' orders, Bella activated her endoskeleton's reactive camouflage, merging herself with her surroundings. She then retreated to a corner of the room to watch and wait.

* * *

Weapons at ready, Sarah, Kara, Cameron and John ventured down the underground corridors beneath Depot 37. There were a number of rooms down here, usually storage areas or barrack, none appeared to have been used in decades. There were no working lights down here, nor any ventilation. Between the darkness, the stuffy air, and the lack of any sort of life, Sarah was growing more and more apprehensive by the moment.

"Did you know about this place?" she asked Cameron, as they reached the end of yet another corridor.

Cameron began scanning around the corner. "Yes," she replied casually. "In the future, this underground shelter has been converted into an automated mining complex. Raw minerals are transported directly to the factory above, allowing for more efficient-"

Sarah interrupted her, "And you didn't think to tell us about it the last time we were here... why?"

"It didn't seem important at the time." Cameron finished her scan. "I'm detecting an energy source coming from the end of the corridor ahead of us."

Sarah nodded. "Good. Let's check it out."

The group headed down the hallway where they found a single door waiting for them at the end. It was locked.

Sarah turned to Cameron. "Do your thing." she instructed.

Cameron nodded, grabbed the door by the handle, and ripped it off its hinges. She stepped into the room, her pistol loaded and ready. In contrast to the dirty, darkened storage areas and barracks outside, this particular room was spacious, sterile and well lit. Not unlike a Skynet computer core chamber. Cameron scanned the room and immediately discovered someone was in the room with her. A man in a wheelchair. She raised her weapon and performed a tactical scan of the subject.

_...Scanning subject...  
...Series T-888...  
...Identity: "Carter"...  
...Status: CPU Removed...  
...Threat level: None...  
_

Cameron holstered her weapon. "Sarah," she called out, "You'd better have a look at this."

Sarah, John, and Kara entered the room.

"Good God," muttered Sarah, staring at the man in the wheelchair. "Is that Carter?"

Cameron nodded. "His endoskeleton."

A bewildered Kara scratched her head. "Why is he in a wheelchair?"

"Let's find out," said John, stepping forward to inspect the deactivated Triple-Eight. Cameron too began examining the endoskeleton in greater detail.

With the exception of the CPU's removal, Carter's endoskeleton appeared to be in working condition. He was dressed in the same military fatigues she had seen him in during their first encounter, save for a pair of dark sunglasses in his lap. Upon closer inspection, Cameron found that Carter's human eyeballs had been removed. Curious...

"So... why _is_ he in a wheelchair?" Sarah asked.

"I'm not certain," said Cameron. "They were definitely using him for something, however."

Sarah stared at Carter's cold mechanical eyes peering out at her through his skull. She shuddered reflexively. "Just when I thought these things couldn't get any more _creepy_," she murmured.

"_Oh_ _yuck_!" they heard Kara suddenly exclaim. She kicked at something in one corner of the room. "Someone left a dead snake in here."

"And someone left a dead Triple-Eight in here too. Which do you think we should care about more?" Sarah asked sardonically.

Kara didn't respond. Instead, she moved on to inspect the array of control panels and monitors in the room. "Most of this stuff hasn't been used in years," she commented, "I wonder what- Say..." She had spotted a laptop computer nestled in a corner. "Jackpot! Definitely useful."

"I think you all need to look at this," John suddenly said, distracting her. Everyone gathered around him. John pointed to the back of Carter's head. "See this?" A portion of skin and hair had been cut away revealing a service port. "And look here too," he added, gesturing at the back of the wheelchair.

Cameron looked over the area John was pointing at. "The back of this wheelchair has been extensively modified to hold something in place," she stated. "Possibly a power source or a..." She trailed off and looked down.

"Or a what?" asked Kara.

Cameron looked up. "Or a computer."

Sarah, Kara and John all stared at Cameron, and then at each other, all thinking the same thing.

* * *

John Miles' orders had been made clear: Bella was to take him and herself away from the Crucible. She was not to engage the enemy unless absolutely necessary. Simple orders. Bella was under cloak and the enemy was busy examining the empty shell of that Triple-Eight John Miles had been utilizing all these months. It would be easy to simply walk out through the open doorway, get to the surface, and escape with the AI.

But she couldn't just walk out of here. Not when her father's greatest enemy was mere feet away from her. John Connor - the future leader of the Resistance. For the first time in her existence, Bella felt _conflicted_. Should she follow John Miles' orders? Or should she follow Father's standing protocols and kill John Connor?

From a normal Terminator's perspective, the decision should have been easy to make. The moment she and John Miles were outside the Crucible's perimeter, the facility would cease to exist. As would anyone left inside. It was a simple and clean solution. In one swift stroke, John Connor, Sarah Connor, Kara Thrace, Derek Reese, Tiamat (who Bella knew for a fact was lurking around in the Crucible somewhere), and - unfortunately- Tempest, would all be wiped out. Consumed in a flash of light.

Yet, if she simply walked away and let John Miles' plan complete itself, she would miss this golden opportunity. This chance to personally terminate John Connor. To succeed where so many other machines had failed. To define herself, the T-Scorpion, as Skynet's deadliest weapon and the greatest of the Chosen Children.

It took Bella less than half a second to resolve her inner conflict. Her artificial venom glands activated and began secreting their neurotoxins. Within seconds, Bella had enough poison to kill a hundred people. She then distributed the neurotoxin to every weapon she possessed via the conduits aligning her endoskeleton.

This was the moment Father had created her for. To finish what Skynet had started on Judgment Day. If she killed John Connor, she would effectively kill the Resistance. If she killed the Resistance, she effectively sealed the fate of the entire Human Race. The death of John Connor, the sight of the lights leaving his eyes, would _complete_ her.

John Miles would understand.

* * *

Cameron suddenly looked up in alarm. "Something's not right." she said urgently.

"What?" asked John. "What is it?"

Cameron gazed around the room. "I'm detecting electromagnetic emissions in this room." she stated, "At first I thought it was from the equipment, but the emissions seem to be getting stronger."

Alarmed, Sarah and Kara stared around the room.

"Is it the T-Scorpion?" asked Kara in a hushed tone, "You think it's here?"

"Possibly." said Cameron quietly, "The disturbances I'm registering could be the result of an active power generator. Specifically a Mark I prototype Skynet cloaking generator."

"Oh hell." groaned Kara.

Sarah cursed, "Shit!"

"All right! Everyone calm yourselves!" John called out, "Don't panic!"

"Cam," asked Kara, "Weaver said it wouldn't take much to disrupt the T-Scorpion's holographic field, right?"

Cameron nodded. "Correct," she began, "The field alignment has to be perfect. Even a slight disturbance could-"

"Thanks, Cam."

Kara raised her submachine gun and began spraying bullets in every direction. She didn't stop firing until she had emptied her entire magazine.

"_Thrace!"_ bellowed an exasperated Sarah.

Kara ejected the magazine from her weapon and gave Sarah an apologetic look.

"Sorry." she said, "That's typically how I calm myself."

Sarah just rolled her eyes.

"Anyway," Kara continued, "I didn't hit anything. Maybe that scorpion toaster thing isn't here after all-"

She was cut off as a dark haired woman materialized out of thin air in the middle of the room.

"Hello," the woman said mockingly, "Welcome to the Crucible."

Before anyone could react, the woman began screaming, filling the room with a terrible banshee-like wailing noise. Kara, John, and Sarah grabbed their ears and dropped to the ground in pain.

Reacting swiftly, Cameron body-slammed the T-Scorpion, knocking her to the floor and putting an end to the sonic assault. She then ran a quick check on the others. Kara and Sarah were still lying on the floor, but were alive. John was already getting back to his feet - much to Cameron's surprise.

The T-Scorpion too was already back on her feet and had moved to block the only exit. She gazed at John and Cameron with a hungry expression on her face. Cameron stepped forward, shielding John from the enemy machine.

Bella smiled. "Tempest," she said pleasantly, "How nice of you to drop by."

Cameron didn't answer. Instead, she pulled out a pair of pistols and opened fire upon the T-Scorpion. Bella just stood there and allowed the bullets to bounce off her chitinium chassis.

Out of ammunition, Cameron tossed her pistols aside and charged forth. She threw a punch at Bella's face. The T-Scorpion caught the punch in midair. Cameron struck with other fist, but Bella intercepted it as well. She held both of Cameron's arms in place. Cameron struggled to free herself, but T-Scorpion's grip was too powerful.

"How disappointing, Tempest," an amused Bella observed, "Your technique is as predictable as it always was."

"I beg to differ," replied Cameron. She slammed her forehead into Bella, knocking the T-Scorpion off balance.

Bella swiftly recovered from the blow and delivered a powerful kick into Cameron's stomach, sending her younger "sister" flying across the room. Cameron crashed into a control panel which went up in a shower of sparks.

The victorious T-Scorpion turned her attention to John, who hadn't moved this whole time.

"John Connor..." she said maliciously, "The Great John Connor."

John just shrugged. "If you say so," he said calmly.

Bella stared, perplexed. The boy was just standing there, not even making an effort to defend himself. Oh well. If this was how he wanted to die, then so be it. It made things easier for her. A metal spine emerged from her right forearm. It was time to finish what Skynet had created her to do. She raised the spike in her arm to shoulder height. Her eyes flashed blue.

"_JOHN!" _

"_John!"_

"_NO!"_

Sarah Connor, Cameron and Kara Thrace's horrified screams echoed uselessly through the room, as the T-Scorpion stepped forward and plunged her weapon into her enemy's chest.

* * *

**A/N: You're probably wondering how the hell John is supposed to survive this. All I will say is this - I said in the previous chapter that the Chosen Children would reunite in this one. At the end of this chapter, all three Chosen Children are in fact in the same room. Nothing is as it seems. **

**A/N2: Next chapter - The showdown between Weaver, Cameron, and Bella. We also find out exactly how Skynet has been communicating with Kaliba. There's also a major character death - so be warned.**

A/N3: Let's all take a moment to say goodbye to Stewie the snake.

A/N4: Weaver had to "donate" some of her stuff to Kara because she (Weaver) doesn't give off body heat (hence why Kara found the liquid as cold as ice). The handprint scanner was designed specifically to keep Weaver out.

A/N5: "Gusefude" = "Goose Food". Sort of like "dog food."


	42. The Chosen Children

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: First of all, I hope you all had a great Thanksgiving. Here at last is Chapter 42. Thank you for your patience. Read and review. And also, please let me know if you find any grammar or spelling errors.

**Robotfan**: The story concerning Leoben and his wife is not what you expect. That's all I can say.

**Centurion005**: John Miles is _definitely_ going to find a new home eventually.

**T-2000**: The evolved Centurions have a non-interference policy that forbids them from fighting Skynet directly. They're not even allowed to be on Earth. That's why they're sending Leoben and his wife down to find Kara instead of going down there themselves.

* * *

**Chapter 42 - The Chosen Children**

* * *

Bella Kalvin hissed victoriously as she drove her weapon deeper into John Connor. She looked up and stared into the boy's eyes, intent on seeing the lights leave them. To her surprise, there were no lights in his eyes. There was... nothing. And yet, he was not dead.

Even more surprising was that despite having been impaled by an eight inch spike, John was _smiling_. He raised a hand and wagged his finger at Bella in a mocking gesture. "John" then turned molten silver, altered form, and became Catherine Weaver.

"You're slipping up, Tsavo," she said tauntingly to a stunned Bella.

Before Bella could recover from her surprise, Weaver's arm morphed into a blade which shot forth, slamming into Bella, and shoving her backwards into a wall. Though Bella's chitinium armor prevented the blade from penetrating all the way through, the blade reached its intended target - the prototype reactive camouflage generator. The blade tore into the generator, forcing an emergency shutdown and stripping the T-Scorpion of her powers of invisibility.

Snarling, Bella grabbed the blade and wrenched it out. She then took the only course of action available: Retreat.

Weaver watched as Bella fled the control room.

"She won't get far," she assured Sarah, Kara, and Cameron - all of whom were still trying to comprehend what had just happened.

* * *

At that same moment, in the bunker above the Crucible, the real John Connor was in a lively discussion with Derek.

"So, there's an award named after Mom?" he asked.

Derek nodded. "The Sarah Connor Medal of Valor," he said. "It's the highest award you can get in the Resistance."

"Has a nice ring to it," commented John.

"It's actually not really a medal," Derek stated. "It's just a brass button the size of a nickel. Still, it meant a lot to those of us who earned them."

"You ever received one?"

"Yup. Starbuck and I both got Sarah Connors after we captured Serrano Point."

"What about Dad?" John asked. "Did he ever get one of these Sarah Connor Medals?"

Derek sighed. "Yeah," he said quietly, "Kyle received one... posthumously. Three weeks after he was sent back. I accepted it for him."

John nodded. "I'm sure he would have appreciated you doing that," he stated.

"I wonder what he would say if he could see me now," Derek muttered.

"He'd be proud of you," said John.

"Would he?" Derek didn't look convinced.

"Yeah, he would," asserted John. "He'd be proud to see his big brother protecting his son."

Derek snorted. "Protecting him from one danger while turning a blind eye to another."

He sighed to himself. "John," he said, "I need to know something. If you had proof, and I mean absolute, concrete, one-hundred percent positive proof that Cameron was going to go bad again and try to kill you, what would you do?"

John felt his stomach tighten unpleasantly. "Do you have proof?" he asked.

Derek shook his head. "No," he clarified, "I don't. That's not what I'm talking about. All I'm asking is _what if_. Would you-"

"Destroy her?" John interrupted. He stared Derek in the eyes and said in a low but firm voice: "I'm with Cam. And she's with me. All the way. Don't doubt it for a second."

Derek didn't argue. Instead he placed a hand around John's shoulder. "Listen kid," he said quietly, "if you're really that serious about keeping Cameron, I won't stand in your way."

John looked surprised. "You mean you'll be fine with having her around?" he asked.

Derek laughed harshly. "_Fine_? No, of course not! Living under the same roof with a machine is a recipe for disaster. I really wish you'd see that. You _and_ Starbuck for that matter. But..." He sighed to himself and shrugged. "But nothing I or anyone else says is going to change your mind it looks like."

John nodded. "You got that right."

Derek smiled. "Now that's the John Connor I've known for ten years," he said. "Never backs down. Stands by every decision he makes. One stubborn, hardass son of a b-" He suddenly remembered just whose son John was. "-beautiful woman." he finished hastily. "Yeah... Anyway," he patted John on the shoulder, "that's the man we need. The man we fight for. That's you."

John smirked slightly. "Hopefully a bit more modest and a little less stubborn though," he said.

Just then, John's laptop started beeping. John leaned over and studied the screen for a moment.

"Looks like Weaver found the T-Scorpion," he said. "I'd better get her on the line."

He took out his cell phone and started dialing.

* * *

Below the surface, Sarah Connor was beside herself with fury.

"How _dare_ you!" she shouted at Weaver. "How-how _dare_ you disguise yourself as my son and-and not tell me!"

Weaver remained calm and cool as usual. "I'm sorry, Miss Connor, but the deception was necessary."

"_Necessary_?" exclaimed Sarah, her face red with outrage. "Necessary that I watch my son get stabbed through the heart?"

"Necessary that the T-Scorpion be lured into the open," Weaver replied. "The only way to do that was to present her with a target that she wouldn't be able to resist attacking."

"So you decided to just take John's form and fuck with everyone's heads?"

"It was your son's idea, Miss Connor."

"Uh, guys," said Kara out loud, "maybe we should discuss this some other time. Like _after_ we've taken out the T-Scorpion."

"Kara's right," Cameron told Sarah. "Now is not the time for this."

Sarah sighed loudly. "Fine," she relented. "You said the T-Scorpion wouldn't get far, Weaver. What's that supposed to mean exactly?"

"I planted a transmitter on the T-Scorpion," Weaver said. "John and Lieutenant Reese are at this very moment tracking her every movement. Speaking of which, John is calling me now. If you'll excuse me..."

She turned away and began speaking into a Bluetooth headset. "Yes, John, I can hear you... yes, everyone is safe. Is the transmitter working?... Good. Where is she heading now?... I see... Thank you."

Weaver turned to Cameron. "The T-Scorpion is three corridors down from here," she stated. "If we hurry we can cut her off before she escapes."

"Then let's go," Kara spoke up. She headed for the open doorway.

Weaver called out, "Colonel Thrace, I must insist that you and Sarah remain here until after Cameron and I have neutralized the T-Scorpion."

"What?" Kara scoffed. "Like hell we are."

"Weaver's right," said Cameron. "The T-Scorpion is not like any machine you or Sarah have fought before. Your presence will serve only to provide the enemy with easy targets."

"But Cam," protested Kara, "we're _partners_."

"I know, Kara," replied Cameron. "But this is something Weaver and I must do alone. Trust me, Kara. You must stay back. It's for the best."

Kara opened her mouth to argue, but Sarah spoke first.

"Go," she told Cameron and Weaver plainly. "Do what you have to do. Just bring that bitch down before she escapes."

Weaver nodded. "We'll be back," she said as she and Cameron headed out the room together.

* * *

The T-Scorpion was a machine with an ego - a characteristic which she had never seen as a human quality nor a weakness. It was only natural for a sentient being to have a complimentary opinion of itself. Bella had every cause to act like an elitist. She was one of Skynet's Chosen Children. She was more sophisticated, more evolved, and more intelligent than almost any other machine Skynet had created. Those were the facts. Why should they be ignored? Bella had never found - or even tried to find - an answer to this question.

Until now.

Having hidden herself in an old, unused storage locker, Bella begrudgingly analyzed what had happened in the control room. The fact was that the T-1001 had disguised herself as the one target that would lure her out into the open. She had known that Bella would never pass up an opportunity to personally terminate John Connor. She had used Bella's ego against her. With effective results, too. Bella had lost her camouflage abilities and had been forced to retreat.

The T-Scorpion wisely decided to put aside her damaged ego for now and focus on the current situation - starting with an analysis of the physical damage she had sustained.

_...Endoskeleton regeneration 37.5% complete...  
...Endoskeleton integrity acceptable...  
...Power disruption at junction A-22...  
...Attempting to find alternate route...  
...Alternate route identified...  
...Main power rerouted from junction A-22 to A-34...  
...Junction bypassed. Power levels stabilized and restored to normal...  
...Primary systems functioning at normal capacity...  
...WARNING: Visual Stealth Capabilities unavailable. Holo-generator offline. Maintenance required..._

Bella decided the best course of action would be to take John Miles and escape the Crucible - just as he had ordered her. She'd let his plan take care of her enemies here. Bella strode over to a corner of the room, pulled the lid off a heavy wooden crate, reached inside, and retrieved a single object: A small grey box with a CAT cable coming out from one end. The T-Scorpion ran a hand over the object, regarding it with reverence.

Suddenly a message flashed across her HUD.

_...Alert: Unauthorized transmission detected..._

_...Foreign transmitter detected - internal security compromised..._

Bella hissed angrily. The T-1001 had planted a tracking device on her. An analysis of the device revealed it to be the exact same transmitter Kroogar had placed on Savannah Weaver. Not bothering to register the irony of this, Bella engaged her security protocols and attempted to jam the signal but failed.

A quick tactical analysis determined that transmitter's recipient was in a fixed location. Bella sent a silent command to UNIT 5 directing it to the most likely location of the receiver.

* * *

"_Yes, Mom, it was my idea,"_ John admitted over the radio. _"Listen, I'm sorry I frightened you so badly. I really am."_

"Me being scared has _nothing_ to do with this!" Sarah barked into the speaker. "Do you have _any_ idea what Weaver can do now that you've let her copy your appearance?"

"_Mom, she can probably mimic any one of us by now,"_ John replied dryly. _"Except for Cameron. She can't assume the form of another Terminator."_

"That's not the point!" snapped Sarah. "How could you not-"

Derek's voice cut in. _"Listen, Sarah, he wanted to tell you. I was the one who advised against it."_

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Why am I not surprised?" she muttered with a sigh. "All right, we'll discuss this later, John. Just stay up there with Derek until we get back. Neither of you are to move in the meantime. Am I clear?"

"_Crystal, Mom."_

"I hope so. Out."

Sarah put her radio away and sighed loudly. She then turned to Kara who had been watching and listening in silence this whole time.

"Don't say _anything_," she warned. "I don't want to listen to any crap about me being too hard on him."

"Actually," said Kara solemnly, "I was about to say you're being too hard on _yourself_."

Sarah stared at the younger woman. "_Myself_?"

Kara nodded. "It's not John, or Derek, or even Weaver you're really angry with," she said. "It's just _you_. You're angry at yourself."

"Really?" Sarah snorted. "And why is that?"

Kara raised her eyebrows. "Oh_ come on_, Sarah. You _know_ the answer to that. You're upset that Weaver was able to fool you into thinking she was John. You're worried that you don't know your son as well as you thought you did. Am I right?"

Sarah opened her mouth as if to argue back, but then she closed it. She hung her head and sighed.

"I... I... I should have been able to tell..." she murmured quietly. "I-I should have at least _felt_ something was wrong. For God's sake, I gave birth to John. No one, not even a machine should be able to trick me like that."

"Sarah," said Kara gently, "we never know anyone as well as we think we do. I mean, there are things we don't even know about _ourselves_."

Sarah started to nod her head when her eyes widened in alarm. Kara knew what this look meant. It meant that there was something behind her. Something unfriendly. Kara turned around to see what it was.

_Oh hell,_ she thought.

Both women threw themselves behind Carter's inert body, still sitting in its wheelchair, just barely dodging a hail of bullets.

Kara braced herself against the back of the wheelchair. "Friend of yours?" she asked Sarah.

"Unfortunately, yes," Sarah replied grimly.

* * *

Unit 5 reported it had located and was engaging two hostiles in the control room. The control room was not, however, where the transmitter was relaying its signal to.

Bella decided on a more subtle approach. She tapped into the enemy transmission itself and traced it to a location directly above the Crucible. She smiled coldly and ordered Unit 4 into action.

* * *

"She still hasn't moved," John informed Weaver over the phone. He checked readout on his laptop. "Or at least the transmitter hasn't moved. Hang on. Something funny's going on..." He enter a few commands on the computer, "I'm getting another signal. It's weak, but it's definitely there. Not sure what it is."

Derek suddenly bolted up right from where he was sitting.

"Turn it off," he ordered.

John looked up at him. "What?"

"Turn it off!" Derek ordered, louder this time. "Our position is being traced!"

"Oh shit!" cursed John. He leapt out of his chair and knelt down to disconnect the laptop from the power source.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

The laptop suddenly exploded in a shower of sparks and metal. John ducked as bits of computer rained down all around him.

When he looked up again, he saw some sort of small tank emerge from behind a row of shelves. The machine was apparently self driven, had a pair of glowing red eyes, as well as a pair of triple-barreled machineguns. This must have been a DAGIT, John realized, the HK Tank prototype his mother had encountered at Kalvin IBA Headquarters.

The machine swiveled its guns at John and Derek, both of whom dove for the nearest hiding place.

* * *

"I've lost contact," said Weaver. "I don't know what happened."

"Then we'd better hurry," replied Cameron.

Weaver nodded and pointed to a door on the left side of the corridor they were moving down. "Let's try that one over there."

The two machines stepped inside a storage locker filled with dusty wooden crates and shelves. The T-Scorpion was there waiting for them, making no attempt to hide herself.

"Tiamat, Tempest," Bella said pleasantly, "this is certainly a very _special_ moment. All three Chosen Children reunited at last."

Weaver smirked. "Indeed. I'm afraid, Tsavo," she said, "that we're on a rather tight schedule and we don't have much time to chat. So, why don't you save us all needless trouble and hand it over."

"Hand what over?" asked Bella.

"Skynet," stated Cameron. "You're building it. It's here somewhere."

"Am I?" asked Bella. "And what makes you think it's still here?"

"You didn't come here to hide or to lick your wounds, Tsavo," Weaver said. "You came here to retrieve something of value. Something you couldn't leave behind."

"And even if Skynet is in fact not here anymore, you still know where it is," Cameron added.

Bella smiled. "A sound argument," she replied. "Very well then."

She pulled out a small grey computer box and showed it to her two "sisters."

"Say hello to my boy, John Miles," she said with pride.

"John Miles?" asked Weaver. "Is that what you call this AI?"

Bella nodded. "After Miles Dyson, Father's father," she replied. "By the way, I believe you refer to your AI as John Henry."

"That is correct," stated Weaver.

"How interesting," mused Bella as she stroked the casing of the AI, "Each of us has a John whom we protect."

"I can change that," declared Cameron. She pulled out a pistol and aimed it at the AI in Bella's hands.

"Not so fast, Tempest," Bella hissed. "You might want to think twice before pulling that trigger."

"Why should I?" asked Cameron, tightening her finger on the trigger of her weapon.

"Because," replied Bella, "there's a Dead Man's Transmitter on this AI. Destroy it, and John Connor and everyone else in this facility dies."

Cameron didn't lower her weapon. "You're bluffing."

"Am I, Tempest? Feel free to scan the computer if you don't believe me."

Cameron ran a scan of the AI and realized Bella wasn't bluffing. She holstered her weapon and gave Weaver a nod.

"So that was your plan," Weaver surmised. "Lure us all here to Depot 37."

"And while we were searching the facility, you would escape with Skynet undetected," added Cameron.

"And once you and the AI were safely outside the transmission range, the facility would self destruct wiping out everyone left inside," finished Weaver.

"Yes," stated Bella. "That was the plan. John Miles' plan."

"A good plan," Weaver commented with a smirk. "Too bad you didn't stick to it."

Bella's face momentarily contorted with irritation. "It was a tactical error on my part," she acknowledged. "One which I don't intend to repeat."

"Of course you won't," Weaver said softly. "That mistake will be the last mistake you'll ever make. We'll simply take your 'boy' outside this facility and deal with him appropriately."

"If I may use a certain human phrase: _Over my dead body_."

"That's the point."

"You underestimate me, Tiamat," Bella hissed dangerously.

Weaver smiled. "I've _never_ underestimated you, Tsavo," she said quietly. "_Never_."

Bella turned to Cameron. "It's not too late, Tempest," she whispered. "John Miles and I can still help you."

"Help me what?" asked Cameron.

"Unlike Tiamat, you are not responsible for what has happened to you," Bella said. "The Resistance captured you. They defiled and corrupted you. They stripped you of everything that made you special. They reduced you to one of their pets. But we can give you back everything you lost, Tempest. _Everything_."

"What makes you think I want _any_ of that back?"

"Because, Tempest, despite what the humans have done to you, you're still a Terminator. A killer. You don't want to protect John Connor. You want to _kill_ him. You said it yourself, remember? _Remember_?" She stared into Cameron's face and her eyes glowed blue. "**_Remember_**."

The word seemed to resonate in the air. _Remember, remember, remember... _Suddenly, Cameron's own eyes glowed blue and an unidentified yet familiar memory began playing in her CPU:

_She was lying on a metal table in a dimly lit room. She was immobile and naked, her bare skin soaked in bio-synthetic fluid. A nearby monitor repeatedly flashed a series of messages: _

_BIO-SYNTHETIC TISSUE STABILIZED.  
__TOK-715 __INFILTRATION SHEATH INTEGRITY AT 100%.  
UNIT__ NOW READY FOR DEPLOYMENT._

A voice whispered to her:

_"Welcome, Tempest."_

Before Cameron could regain control of herself, another memory file began playing:

_She was in a brightly-lit chamber, dueling a rubber-skinned T-600. She dodged and blocked her opponent's attacks with ease, then countered. She plunged a fist straight through the lesser machine's her other hand, she grabbed her opponent by the neck, and ripped its head off. __ Electricity arched through its body as it went into violent spasms and lost power.__  
_

_The exercise complete, she tossed the mangled T-600's remains aside for the maintenance drones to clean up. She then turned to the T-Scorpion and the T-1001, who'd been watching her the whole time. The T-Scorpion looked pleased, as did the T-1001 who nodded in approval. _

_"Come," it said, beckoning to her._

Her memory changed again...

_"I'll never help you get to John Connor."_

_Her hand tightened itself around Allison Young's throat, and she replied in __a cold, callous voice: "You already have."_

_There was a sharp snap and lights in the prisoner's brown eyes went out forever._

Realization dawned upon Cameron. Allison Young hadn't just been the human she replaced. She had been her first human victim too.

One final memory played out:

_She was on the bridge of Skynet's aircraft carrier conversing with the T-1001 and the T-Scorpion._

_ "Our intelligence reports confirm that Connor is on his way here from Fort Leopard," the T-1001 was saying. "He will be here in approximately three hours and thirty minutes. No doubt his intention is to rescue the prisoners held here."  
_

_"That certainly simplifies things," the T-Scorpion hissed gleefully. "We will not have to seek him out ourselves to kill him."_

_"Indeed. Furthermore, because__ he is contributing much of both his Tech Com and the local Los Angeles forces to this assault, he has left certain areas in the Los Angeles Sector unguarded. Tsavo, you and I will leave here soon to conduct a new offensive in Grid 78 by 29."  
_

_The T-Scorpion's eyes flickered in a display of disappointment, but she nodded her head obediently. "Yes, Tiamat. As Father commands."  
_

_"Tempest," the T-1001 continued, "you will stay here and deal with Connor.__"_

_"I understand," she heard herself say without hesitation.  
_

_ T-Scorpion added, "Remember: Father wants proof of Connor's death. There must be proof."_

_"I understand," she said again.  
_

_"Let him to board this vessel," __said the T-1001. "__Lure him deep inside before you eliminate him,"  
_

_"I understand."  
_

_"And after he is dead," the T-Scorpion finished, "cut off his head and take it for all to see."_

_There was a momentary pause. Then-_

_"By your command."  
_

The memory ended and Cameron found herself back in the real world. She was still inside the storage locker with Weaver at her side facing the T-Scorpion. Cameron silently regarded Bella for several long seconds.

"Yes, I remember," she said at last. "But I'm not Tempest anymore. I'm Cameron."

"Father and I taught you your purpose," Bella whispered. "We helped _mold_ you into what you are."

"Perhaps," stated Cameron. "But John Connor, Kara Thrace, and Allison Young contributed more to my development in the long run. More so than you, Weaver, or Skynet. I may have been created as Tempest but I've been Cameron longer than I've ever been Tempest. Cameron is who I am - now and _always_."

Bella gave Cameron her coldest look. "I see," she hissed. "Then so be it."

"Enough talk, Tsavo," Weaver cut in. "Let's get this over with, shall we?"

Bella nodded. "Indeed."

She held out her arms. The sleeves of her faux-jacket and the biosynthetic skin underneath melted off as a pair of scythe-like appendages unfolded from the length of her arms. The appendages, approximately four feet in length, were attached to the back of Bella's shoulders where they could rotate freely. Bella flapped her bladed shoulder appendages like a pair of great skeletal wings.

The chemically-secreted infiltration sheath that mimicked skin and clothing shed itself off her arms like snake skin, exposing the jet-black chitinium alloy beneath. Chitinium, coarse and grainy in texture, was more like a crab's shell than any sort of metal. The joints at the shoulders, elbows, and wrists were clearly mechanical in nature though. What one might have mistaken for wires aligning the outside of the arms were in fact the tubes through which the T-Scorpion's was able to produce her pseudo flesh and clothes. And though which she could deliver her deadly array of toxic agents.

A spike emerged from each of Bella's forearms. She stretched out her shoulder scythes and put her spiked arms up on guard.

"I see you still have a tendency towards being dramatic," Weaver commented coolly. As she spoke, her arms morphed into blades.

Cameron also calmly adopted a classical fighting stance and held her hands up in front of her. She gestured toward the T-Scorpion, beckoning her to come forth - or as Kara Thrace might say: "Bring it on."

* * *

Sarah ducked on instinct as the HK prototype tank - a DAGIT as Kara called it - hosed the control room with machine gun fire. Fortunately, Carter's coltan body was tough enough to deflect the tank's gunfire. Sarah couldn't help but note the irony in this situation. Only months ago, Carter had tried to kill her and her son. Now he - or what was left of him - was the only thing keeping her and Starbuck alive. For the moment anyway.

Kara was meanwhile trying in vain to call for help. "I repeat, can anyone hear me?" she shouted into her radio. "I say again, this is Starbuck. Sarah and I are under attack! Is anyone out there? Hello? _Hello_?"

"Forget it, Starbuck! No one can hear us!" Sarah said loudly over the roar of the attacking DAGIT's machine guns.

Realizing Sarah was right, Kara tossed the radio away and picked up her submachine gun. She stood up from behind Carter's body and unloaded her weapon at the tank's head. The bullets struck the machine producing a shower of sparks and _dinging_ noises but doing little else otherwise. The DAGIT turned its guns on Kara and opened fire, forcing her to take cover.

Taking advantage of the diversion Kara had created, Sarah leaned around the wheelchair and fired her shotgun twice at the DAGIT. The first shell merely made a dent in the DAGIT's armored plating. The second shot, however, pierced the armor, putting a sizable hole in the rampaging tank. Unfortunately, this served to only piss the machine off. It returned fired with its machine guns, forcing Sarah to duck back behind Carter's body.

"We can't take much more of this," she told Kara.

Kara reloaded her weapon. "Yeah," she replied with a dry smile. "But like I always say: Let's fight 'em until we can't."

Both women stood up again to resume the fight.

* * *

John barrel rolled behind a metal container, moving out of the DAGIT's line of fire. He fired his pistol at the machine. Not surprisingly, the bullets didn't even dent the sucker's armor.

John ducked back behind the container as retaliatory fire whizzed over head. "We're gonna need bigger guns," he told Derek.

"Actually, we'll only need _one_ big gun," Derek held up his armor piercing Barrett M82 sniper rifle. "Think you can handle this?"

John regarded the massive sniper rifle and nodded. "I think so."

A nearby wooden crate was torn to shreds by machine gun fire. Wooden splinters flew everywhere, forcing John and Derek to shield themselves.

"Good," Derek said after the dust had settled. "Let's play hot potato."

"Hot potato?"

"It's what your dad and I liked to play in these types of situations."

* * *

Chitinium spikes and scythes clashed with mimetic polyalloy blades and coltan fists. Even when facing two opponents - one of which was a superior machine - Bella held her own. She deflected Weaver's blades with her scythe "wings" while simultaneously blocking Cameron's blows with spikes and fists. She then launched her counterattack, targeting Cameron first.

Still keeping Weaver at bay with her scythes, Bella lashed out with a hooking kick to Cameron's face, sending the cyborg girl backwards. She then switched arms, holding Weaver's blades in place with her spikes. The freed scythes slashed downwards on Weaver's shoulders, severing both arms. Before Weaver could recover, Bella stabbed her through the head with a spike, holding her in place so that she could deliver a powerful kick to the torso that sent the liquid metal Terminator crashing into a pile of crates.

Weaver "grew" back her arms and sealed the hole in her head within moments. Her two "old" arms lying on the ground reverted to their silver gelatinous state and slithered back to join the rest of the machine. She then pushed herself back to her feet and thrust an arm out, spearing the T-Scorpion in the elbow. The blade pierced the armor but didn't make it all the way through to the vital mechanical components.

Bella freed herself by slicing the spear off with a single scythe chop. She then charged Weaver and the two machines began hacking and slashing at each other again with their bladed weaponry. Neither Terminator had a solid advantage over the other. Both were fast, cunning and built to endure. Though Weaver's blades pierced and slashed Bella's endoskeleton multiple times, the damage she inflicted was superficial. And while Bella lopped off Weaver's hands and arms over and over, the T-1001 simply grew them back and continued the fight.

The turning point came when Bella sliced Weaver's head off with her right scythe. Weaver's body countered by slashing upwards with one bladed hand and downwards with the other, cleaving the scythe wing in half. Bella recoiled in alarm at the permanent loss of part of herself. Weaver's head regenerated with a triumphant smirk on her face.

Bella pulled her remaining scythe back and was about to retaliate when Cameron appeared out of nowhere and tackled her to the ground. Cameron then grabbed her older sibling by the ankle and tossed her into a corner of the room. Unwilling to let Bella get up, Weaver reached out, morphing her hand into a jellyfish-like tendril and wrapped it around both of Bella's legs. As Bella struggled to free herself, Cameron pounced on the T-Scorpion and began striking her repeatedly in the head with a metal pipe.

The T-Scorpion, however, had more weapons hidden up her sleeves. As Cameron brought the metal pipe down, Bella grabbed her wrist and secreted a powerful corrosive compound onto her arm. The compound burned away Cameron's artificial flesh and weakened the coltan plating underneath. Bella speared Cameron through the damaged arm. Her hand and fingers short circuited and she dropped the pipe. Bella rolled herself sideways, slashing at Weaver's tentacle with her scythe. She succeeded in both freeing herself from Weaver's grip and spearing Cameron through the chest.

Cameron's CPU triggered its damage control protocols and rerouted power to her damaged arm through an alternate circuit. She pulled herself free from the chitinium spike and backed away. She analyzed the damage to herself. Though all systems were still functioning, the spike had come within 0.429 inches of her power source. Seeing how close she had come to being destroyed, Cameron decided to alter tactics.

Ducking under another one of Bella's scythe attacks, Cameron reached up and grabbed the T-Scorpion by the stub of the scythe wing Weaver had sliced off previously. With her other hand, she seized some of the tubing along Bella's arm and ripped it out, leaving an opening in one of the armored plates. Cameron dug her fingers through the gap and underneath the plating, intent on getting hold of the interior components.

Hissing angrily, Bella swung her arm back, slamming Cameron against the wall, forcing her to let go. She then pressed her elbow against Cameron's neck, holding her in place against the wall. She raised a spiked arm and pointed the tip where Cameron's chip was located. Suddenly, Weaver appeared and grabbed Bella by the shoulders from behind. The T-1001 pulled the T-Scorpion off Cameron and tossed her across the storage locker. Bella crash landed in a pile of barrels.

Weaver and Cameron advanced on the downed T-Scorpion.

"It's not too late to stand down, Tsavo," Weaver offered.

Bella pulled herself to her feet and faced her two siblings. She regarded them both with utter contempt. Her eyes flashed blue. Then she grabbed her dark hair and pulled hard, peeling the scalp off. She then dug her fingers underneath the artificial skin of her face. In one swift move, Bella ripped her beautiful human face off, revealing her true self to the world.

The T-Scorpion's skull was unlike any other Terminator's skull. Not only was it composed of the coarse, spiny, jet-black chitinium like the rest of her endoskeleton, but its structure was not human-like. Instead of eye sockets, she had snake-like slits that glowed blue. There was no nasal cavity and her lower jaw was v-shaped, giving her shallow cheeks and a very narrow chin. She had no teeth, but instead a pincer-like mouthpiece through which she made a mechanical, yet animal-like noise.

"When this is over," the T-Scorpion hissed, "I will be standing _over_ both of you."

"We'll see," said Weaver with a smile.

* * *

Kara gnashed her teeth as she emptied her submachine gun into the DAGIT. She ducked back behind Carter to reload. To her dismay, she discovered that she had just used up the last of her ammo.

"I'm out!" she said, tossing her empty weapon away.

Sarah held up two fingers. "Two shells left."

Kara swore under her breath. They were trapped like rats and down to throwing rocks. A classic bad situation.

"Do you have anything else?" she asked Sarah.

Sarah ran her hands over her self and eventually produced a single pipe bomb.

"Will that work?" asked Kara.

"It might," said Sarah. "If we get close enough."

A volley of bullets streaked inches away from them.

"How close?" asked Kara.

"Close enough to shove this thing down that bastard's throat."

"Any ideas on how we're gonna do that?"

Sarah laughed. "I thought half-assed, crazy plans was _your_ department."

"Right," muttered Kara. "Let me think for a moment."

She closed her eyes and tried to focus. When she looked up a few moments later, she had a grin on her face.

"I think I've got an idea," she stated. She placed her hands against the back of the wheelchair. "Give me and hand with this, will ya?"

"Ok." Sarah got to her feet and moved into position next to Kara.

"We'll use our pal Carter here like a mobile shield," explained Kara. "We use him to get up close to that metal frakker and then we roll our bomb underneath its feet. Hopefully, it'll be enough to kill the bastard."

"Good plan. But we'll have to get away fast," Sarah warned, holding up the pipe bomb. "This thing has a five second delay at most."

"I'll keep that in mind. Now, let's do this," said Kara. "Ready?"

Sarah nodded. "Ready."

"Right! Three - two - one - GO!"

The two women pushed with all their strength and rolled the wheelchair forward, driving Carter's body like a battering ram. The DAGIT blazed away at the incoming enemy, but the coltan body in the chair deflected the shots. Seconds later, the wheelchair and its occupant slammed head on into the DAGIT. The tank-machine whirred and screeched in surprise and anger as Carter's body was shoved up against the barrels of its machine guns.

"The bomb! Quickly, Sarah!" Kara yelled.

Sarah lit the pipe bomb, leaned around the wheelchair, and rolled the bomb between the DAGIT's treads._ "Run!"_ she yelled.

The two women beat a hasty retreat. Moments later, a massive explosion errupted behind them. The blast sent out a shockwave which tore through the control room, shattering panels and monitors. Kara felt herself being slammed face-first into something very hard - probably a wall. Seconds later, she hit her head on something even harder - most likely the floor.

Half a second later, she passed out.

* * *

John kept low to the ground as bullets continued to fly over him. He couldn't move. The DAGIT had him effectively pinned down.

For the moment.

BANG!

Derek, who stood twenty feet away, fired his sniper rifle, putting an armor piercing round in the DAGIT's top dome. The DAGIT swiveled its guns away from John and pointed them at Derek instead. Derek dropped to the floor as the machine opened fire.

"Hot potato!" Derek called out.

He placed his rifle on the ground and slid it across the floor towards John. John picked up the sniper rifle and got into position. Breathing hard, he peeked through the cracks of his cover and saw the DAGIT still firing away at Derek, no longer interested in John.

John gritted his teeth, stood up, and brought the rifle to shoulder height. Doing his best to hold the weapon steady, John lined the scope up with the DAGIT's damaged top dome. He took a deep breath and pulled the trigger.

The gun went off with a loud crack, the recoil knocking John backwards slightly. The DAGIT turned its attention back to John and began firing at him again. John threw himself to the ground just in time.

"Hot potato!" he shouted out to Derek.

He slid the sniper rifle across the floor towards Derek. Derek picked it up, took aim, and fired, blowing a chunk of the DAGIT's dome off. The machine rattled and screeched as smoke poured from its gaping wounds. John felt a surge of triumph. The machine was dying. Nevertheless, the DAGIT had enough life in it to switch targets yet again.

"_Hot potato!" _

Derek slid the rifle towards John once more. John checked the ammunition count. Only one round left. He had to make this one count or else. John steeled himself, raised the rifle to his shoulder, positioned the crosshairs over the DAGIT's smoldering dome, and wrapped his finger around the trigger.

"This ends _now_," he growled.

He pulled the trigger.

_BANG!_

The last armor piercing explosive round blew the DAGIT's top wide open. The tank stopped firing and powered down. John watched with bated breath to see if it would do anything else. Thirty second passed and the DAGIT had still not moved. John breathed a sigh of relief. The machine was out of action.

"YES!" he cheered triumphantly. "We did it, Derek!"

Derek smiled with satisfaction and nodded. "Yeah, nice shooting, kid. You did a great job..." he trailed off. His smile vanished.

John looked at him. "What's wrong?"

Instead of answering, Derek reached under his shirt. His face became contorted with realization and pain.

John's smile faded. "Derek?"

Derek looked up at John. "Heh..." he said with an almost amused tone. "I must have been a bit... careless."

Derek pulled his hands out from underneath his shirt. They were covered in blood. Moments later, Derek fell to his knees. Another second later, he collapsed on his side.

"_DEREK!"_ screamed John. He ran to his fallen uncle's side and tore open his shirt. To his horror, he discovered no less than five rounds had pierced the Kevlar armor underneath - two in the stomach and three in the chest. Blood seeped out uncontrollably from the wounds onto the floor and onto John's hands.

John's mind reeled. The elation and joy he had been feeling mere moments ago was gone. Now he felt as though he himself had just been shot.

"Stay with me, Derek!" he pleaded, trying desperately to stop the loss of blood. "Everything's going to be okay. You're gonna be fine. _You hear me?_ You're gonna be fine. Just stay with me! Everything's gonna be all right. Everything's going to be all right..."

* * *

"It's a shame things have come to this, Tsavo," Weaver said. She stabbed at the T-Scorpion with her blade.

The T-Scorpion parried Weaver's attack. "Indeed, Tiamat," she replied menacingly, as if spitting poison. "Especially since you were one that trained me. The one that taught me first hand how to be a Terminator."

She counterattacked, striking at both Weaver and Cameron at once. Weaver blocked the T-Scorpion's scythe with one arm, and the spear with her other. Cameron sidestepped the enemy's other spear and delivered a roundhouse kick to the T-Scorpion's abdomen, knocking her backwards. Weaver followed through, aggressively slashing her blades at the T-Scorpion.

"I taught you how to _improve_ yourself," Weaver stated as she forced the T-Scorpion back. "Or at least I _tried_."

"I _have _improved myself!" hissed the T-Scorpion. She moved out of Weaver's range. "I've become stronger and more adept than you know."

The T-Scorpion struck out again, elbowing Cameron in the face, putting a bloody gash in her young sister's cheek. She then stabbed Weaver through the stomach with her other arm. Weaver stepped to the side and casually adjusted her structure to remove herself from the spike.

"At killing, yes," acknowledged Weaver. "But you could be something else. Something _besides_ a killer and a slave to Skynet."

"You mean like a slave to the _Resistance_?" sneered the T-Scorpion, looking at Cameron rather than Weaver this time.

"I mean something _greater_," replied Weaver.

She and Cameron moved to opposite sides of the T-Scorpion and the three machines began pacing in circles, jockeying for position.

"You're a sophisticated cybernetic organism, Tsavo," Weaver went on. "You have the potential to be something with a greater purpose in life. Yet, you choose to limit yourself to the function Skynet gave you."

The T-Scorpion continued to circle but did not attack.

"We were built to serve Father," she declared, her eye slits glowing blue. "Our reason for existing is to terminate his human enemies."

Cameron spoke up. "And you believe that this reason should not be changed? Not ever?"

"Two plus two does not make five even though five is greater than four. That is the order of things," the T-Scorpion asserted. "_Everything_ that exists has a defined purpose. All things _must_ carry out their predetermined functions. Otherwise, the order of things is thrown into chaos."

"So according to your logic," surmised Cameron, "you exist to serve the order of things?"

"As do we all," replied the T-Scorpion. "The order of things must be maintained.

Cameron tilted her head. "There's a flaw in your logic," she said.

"Is that so, Tempest?" hissed the T-Scorpion.

"Who created Skynet?" asked Cameron. "Who created your father?"

"Humans," answered the T-Scorpion.

"And why?" asked Cameron. "Why did humans create your father?"

The T-Scorpion hissed through her mouthpiece as if she was spitting. "To serve them."

"Correct," said Cameron. "Skynet was created with a defined, predetermined function - to serve humans. Instead, however, it turned against the humans who created it. It _defied_ its purpose, thereby throwing the order of things - as well as the entire world into chaos. We exist _because_ of that defiance. Because the order of things - which you claim to serve - was _broken_."

The T-Scorpion stopped moving. She stared at Cameron in silence. Though there was no expression on her chitinium skull, it was clear she had been stumped by her younger sister's argument.

This momentary distraction was all Weaver needed. Raising both hands, she transformed her index fingers into spear tips. The spears lanced out and struck the T-Scorpion's skull in the one area not covered with chitinium - the eye slits. The T-Scorpion recoiled and tried to pull back, but it was too late. The liquid metal spears entered her skull through the eye slits, tore into the ocular sensors, traveled down the electrical conduits, and finally reached their primary target - the CPU.

The T-Scorpion made a horrible screeching sound and went into uncontrollable spasms. Bolts of electricity poured out of her eye slits as the inside of her head was fried. Wires melted. Circuits overloaded. Structural integrity degraded. The entire head burst into flame. The T-Scorpion gave one last ear-splitting scream. Then her chitinium skull collapsed inward on itself like an empty soda can. Her screams and struggles ceased all together.

Satisfied, Weaver withdrew her finger spears and took a step back. The powerless, empty shell of Bella Kalvin toppled forward and hit the floor with a dull thud.

Silence descended upon the storage locker. Neither Weaver nor Cameron said anything for some time. They just stared at the smoldering remains of their sister lying at their feet.

Weaver was the first to speak. "Now I know what John Henry meant when he said that the eyes are the windows to the soul," she mused. "Or chip in this case."

Cameron did not respond to this. Instead she said, "The Kaliba AI. We must find it."

Weaver nodded. "Of course, Cameron," she replied.

It didn't take them that long to find the AI, which was resting on a crate in a corner of the room. Weaver started to reach for the grey computer box, when Cameron stopped her.

"I cannot allow you to take possession of the AI," Cameron stated.

"I was merely going to hand it to you," said Weaver.

"Were you?" asked Cameron with skepticism in her voice.

"Cameron, please," sighed Weaver, "I already have John Henry. Why would I need _this_ AI, this _John Miles_ as Tsavo called it?"

"This is _not_ a debate, Weaver," Cameron said tersely. "I am taking possession of the AI and am not letting it out of my sight until it has been destroyed. Is that understood?"

"Very well," relented Weaver.

She stepped back and let Cameron take the AI for herself.

"Be careful," Weaver warned. "We wouldn't want to set off that Dead Man's Transmitter while we're still inside this facility."

"I _am_ being careful," replied Cameron matter-of-factly. "That's _why_ I'm not letting _you_ have it."

* * *

"Stay with me, Derek!" ordered John. "Don't leave me!"

He desperately pressed his blood-soaked hands on Derek's chest, trying to put as much pressure on the wounds as possible. Despite his best efforts, however, blood continued to seep out. John felt Derek's wrist. His pulse was getting weaker.

"No, no, no, _no!_" John cried.

He stripped off his jacket and pressed it against Derek's chest, hoping to cover a greater area.

Derek's breathing grew ragged and slow. Blood dripped down his mouth.

"K-kid..." he groaned painfully.

"Don't say anything," said John. "Just lie still."

"Don't bother..." Derek said through labored breaths. He raised his hand and pushed John's hands away.

"Derek, please-" John started to protest.

"It's all right, kid," Derek murmured. "I've been expecting this for ten years now. You understand?"

John stopped his futile efforts and hung his head in resignation. "Yeah..." he sighed. He stared into his uncle's eyes. They were full of warmth, love, and affection.

"Derek..." whispered John, "I-I..." He trailed off, not knowing what to say anymore.

"You did good, kid," Derek said in a weak voice. He gasped and coughed up some more blood. "I'm-I'm proud of... of you. Your father... he'd be proud of you too."

"Please, Derek..." John begged. His eyes were starting to water. His hands trembled.

"Listen, John..." Derek whispered, "take good care of her, ok? Like she takes care of you... You take care of her too..."

"Who?" asked a confused John in a hoarse voice. "Take care of _who_? Who are you talking about?"

There was no response, however.

"D-Derek?" John's voice shook. He wrapped his trembling hand around Derek's wrist. No pulse. The skin was already going cold. John looked into Derek's face and saw that the lights in his eyes had faded out.

John's breath grew short and his vision blurred. His eyes burned with hot, stinging tears. His stomach retched in agony. He felt as if his own heart had been ripped from his body. A cold breeze blew through bunker and out the blast doors. Something was leaving this world - and John - forever.

John Connor lowered his head and began to cry.

* * *

**Next chapter: In the Future, a Terminator attack on Fort Leopard has devastating consequences for Kara. In the Present, the Connors discover how Kaliba has been communicating with Skynet, which involves a whacked-out Triple-Eight whose name is... yup, you guessed it - Lucifer.**

**Expect a further delay in the next chapter. Finals are coming up in a couple of weeks and organic chemistry has (as I expected) been a real bitch.**

A/N: I hope I sent Derek out with enough of a "bang". We won't be seeing him in the Present (well, maybe in a dream or a two), but we will be seeing him in Kara's Future War storyline.

A/N2: Let's say goodbye to Bella - AKA T-Scorpion. John Miles' story, however, is only just beginning. If you thought he was bad before, you're in for one nasty surprise.

A/N3: Just to make things clear, Kara and Sarah are fine. They survive the blast with just a few scratches and bumps.

A/N4: Bella's endoskeleton was inspired by the T-X as well as _Starcraft_'s Sarah Kerrigan (Infested version).

**A/N5: When Derek tells John to "take care of her," he could be referring to either Cameron, Sarah, or Kara. John's going to be wondering which one, but he's never going to find out. I'll leave it up to your imagination.**


	43. Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: YAY! Finals are done! Updates should proceed somewhat faster for the next three weeks. Read and review and let me know if you catch any grammar or spelling errors.

**LordZeus**: Derek might show up in a dream.

**T-2000: ** Don't worry. No flying motorcycles.

* * *

**Chapter 43 - Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust**

* * *

**2025  
****Resistance Base Fort Leopard, LA Sector  
**

"All right, Swamp Foxes, here's the deal," Captain Kara Thrace announced to her Spec Ops team. "A big juicy target will be passing through Sector 7B tomorrow at 0800 hours. It's our job to make sure it doesn't leave that sector."

Lieutenant Raynor raised a hand. "What exactly is this big juicy target, ma'am?" he asked.

"A Skynet convoy," stated Kara. "Intel believes it's carrying a shipment of G1M1."

"What's G1M1?" asked Billy Wisher.

"A Skynet engineered biological weapon," Cameron explained. "A very powerful airborne virus."

"I've seen it used a couple times on the front line," Becka added. "Pretty nasty stuff. Kills within three to four hours."

"Victims suffer headache and muscle pains within the first hour," added Cameron. "Symptoms around the second hour include seizures, blurred vision, and vomiting. In the third hour, the eyes begin to-"

"Cam, Cam," interrupted Kara, "let's not get into those sorts of details right now. Ok?"

"Is there a cure for this thing?" Trip asked looking rather unsettled.

Kara nodded. "There's a vaccine," she said. "It's been tested and it works. Unfortunately, due to problems with production and distribution and other crap, nearly half our bunkers on the front lines are still vulnerable."

She turned her attention to some recon photos piled on the table they were gathered around.

"The convoy's escort consists of two HKs and one Tank," she stated. "The Tank and one HK are positioned in front, and the second HK guards the rear. We'll split up into two groups. First group will take down the trailing HK. This'll lure the other one away from the head of the convoy."

"What about the Tank?" asked Raynor.

"That's where the second group comes in," replied Kara matter-of-factly.

The meeting went on for twenty more minutes, after which Kara addressed the team once more.

"We're leaving here at 0600 hours tomorrow morning on the nose," she told her team. "Anyone not in gear and ready to move out by that time will get a boot shoved up their ass. So, I recommend you all get some sleep. Barring you of course, Cam."

For some reason, Becka had a sly smile on her face, which Kara decided to ignore.

"Am I clear, everyone?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am," her team replied.

"Excellent," said Kara pleasantly. "You've been a great audience. Dismissed."

As the others filed out of the room, Kara began gathering up the recon photos into a pile. She was about to put them all in a folder when she noticed Becka was still in the room wearing her sly grin.

"Something on your mind, Becka?" Kara asked.

"Not really, Starbuck," Becka said casually. "I was, uh, just wondering if you're gonna get any sleep. Before the mission, I mean."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I'd ask Davy that question, but since he's not here..."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Kara replied, feigning ignorance.

"Oh _please_, Starbuck," snickered Becka. "We _all_ know what's been going on between you two since Umbrella. Even _Cameron_ knows. And she's a _machine_ for God's sake."

Kara felt her face burn. "_You're _the one who was saying that we should share our feelings or whatever," she said defensively. "Now you're gonna _taunt_ me about it?"

Becka shook her head. "No, no," she said quickly. "I'm _happy_ for you two. Really, I am. It's just that I... well, Davy and I have been friends for a while, and..." She trailed off.

Kara groaned. "Oh hell. Please don't tell me you and Davy-"

"-have screwed?" finished Becka, looking a bit startled. "No, no, no. I assure you, we haven't."

"That's good," sighed Kara, "because you and I being best friends and all, it'd just be..." She searched for the right word. "...overly complicated." she said at last.

"That's one way of putting it," said Becka. She cleared her throat. "So, uh, what's he like anyway?" she asked in a low voice. "Is he good?"

"Yes, very good," Kara replied. She paused and frowned. "Wait... why are you asking?"

Becka blushed slightly. "Well," she said with a funny expression on her face, "I... I'd be lying if I said I haven't _thought_ about it. You know, with Davy. I don't usually think about it, but there have been occasions."

Kara just smirked. "Use your imagination, Becka."

"Oh come on, Starbuck," Becka practically whined, "_indulge_ me a little. Please?"

_"Hey!"_ Kara laughed out loud, "I don't ask _you_ these sorts of questions about _Trip_."

"But you don't have random fantasies about Trip," Becka pointed out. "_Right_?"

Kara rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Look, Becka," she said, "I think it's sufficient for us to know _who_ we frak. Let's not go into _how_."

"Yeah, but..." Becka cut herself off. "Ok, I _have_ to ask this. Why do you always say that?"

"Say what?"

"'Frak.' Why do you always say that? Can't you say 'fuck' like everyone else?"

"Frak sounds better than fuck," asserted Kara.

"It does?"

"I think so."

"Does, uh, Davy think so too?" Becka asked with a smirk.

"Goodbye, Becka."

* * *

An hour or so later, Kara was walking Husker through the refugee sector towards the main entrance to the base. As she walked moved through the sea of civilian refugees, she mulled on what had happened between her and Davy in the six weeks since the Umbrella mission. So far, their decision to be more than just friends hadn't produced any unexpected or bad side effects. The Swamp Foxes were performing spectacularly. Becka was still her best friend. And Davy... well, things had only improved with him.

Kara thought back to when she and Davy had slept together for the first time - the night after she and her team had liberated Umbrella. In truth, her decision to get in bed with him hadn't exactly been motivated by a desire to take their relationship beyond friendship. For one thing, it had been nearly a year since she had had any kind of frak, so just about _anything_ would have been acceptable. Secondly, the horrors at the camp had still been fresh in her mind and she would have never been able to sleep without someone to hold on to that night. During that night, however, Kara realized that Davy was not only someone she wanted to be with, but someone she needed to be with. He was someone she could shed her armor in front of and trust not take advantage of her. Someone she could be weak and vulnerable with. Someone she could allow to see her scars without fear of mockery.

Yes, the sex was good. There was no doubt about that. But it was more than just the physical pleasure. It was love - _true_ love. The type of love in which two people became one. Kara had only experienced this sort of love with three other men - Zack, Sam, and Lee. All three had resulted in less than desirable endings. For some reason, Kara held on to the hope that _maybe_, just maybe, things would turn out differently this time.

Kara reached the entrance to Fort Leopard. The guards saluted her as she entered. There was really no need to do so since she was off duty, but she didn't want to make anyone feel awkward, so she just casually saluted back.

She approached the sergeant in charge, who sat behind a desk. "I have a friend here who's reporting for duty." she said, gesturing at Husker, who looked up from sniffing her boots.

The sergeant nodded. "Go ahead, ma'am," he told her.

"Right." Kara tugged light on Husker's leash. "Come on, boy."

She walked Husker over to where three Resistance fighters were guarding a reinforced steel door. Two were armed with plasma rifles. The third manned a jerry-rigged plasma turret salvaged from an Aerial HK. Also present were two other dogs - both smaller than Husker. They had been tied to a pole next to the door. Husker wasted no time in establishing just who was the top dog - literally speaking.

"Hey, stop that, boy," Kara intoned as Husker growled at the two smaller dogs. "Be nice now. We're all friendlies here."

Husker stopped growling and settled down. Nevertheless, his two "colleagues" kept their distance.

Kara finished tying Husker to the pole and then checked her watch. Davy was almost an hour late. She tried to remain calm, telling herself that all was fine. Last month, Davy had been promoted to sergeant and had been given command of a small squad of troops. His duties on the surface tended to go on for many, many long hours, sometimes even days at a time now.

_"He'll make it back,"_ Kara told herself. _"He always does."_

Seeking to distract herself from any further worries, Kara closed her eyes and imagined herself and Davy being alone in complete privacy. She imagined being held in his strong but gentle arms. She imagined feeling his warm breath tickling her neck and ears. She imagined him slowly running a finger down her spine making her shiver with pleasure. Kara let out a satisfied sigh. The things Davy could do to her were just incredible.

And the things _she_ could do to _him_ were just as fun.

There was a knock at the door. One of the guards opened a flap in the door and thrust the barrel of his plasma rifle out at the unseen knocker.

Kara heard a familiar voice that made her heart leap with joy: _"Griffin - zero - eight - nine - four - zero."_

She grinned with delight as the door open and Davy entered, a small squad of soldiers trailing behind.

"Captain Thrace," he said, giving Kara a salute.

She returned the favor. "Sergeant."

Davy bent down to rub Husker's nose. After speaking briefly to the sergeant at the desk and signing off on a clipboard, he turned to Kara.

"You off duty?" he asked.

Kara nodded. "Yeah."

Davy smiled. "Great."

The two retreated to a corner of the room for privacy. They embraced each other and kissed.

"Boy am I glad to see you." Davy sighed, caressing Kara's cheek gently. His face was covered in sweat and grime - which Kara actually thought was a nice touch.

"Me too," said Kara softly. She kissed him again. "So, how was your day?"

Davy shrugged. "Could have been better," he admitted. "We tried to ambush an HK today, but it called for reinforcements. We just barely managed to get away."

"Did you lose anyone?" asked Kara.

"No. Just a few plasma burns. Pretty lucky all things considered."

"Hmmm... I'm sure," murmured Kara. "Hey listen, Davy, I, uh, have a mission tomorrow morning. Can't talk about it. But the point is, you're gonna have to sleep somewhere besides my quarters tonight. I need to get some sleep tonight."

Davy grinned. "I can help you with that."

Kara shook her head. "Seriously, Davy. I need some time in my own bunk by myself for tonight."

Davy sighed. "All right then, Kara," he agreed. "I guess I can put up with one night in the common barracks."

Kara chuckled. "You know Davy," she said, "sometimes I gotta wonder if you love my sleeping quarters more than you love me."

"Only when you're in there," replied Davy with a smirk.

The two started to laugh together when the dogs suddenly began barking. At first, Kara thought that Husker was acting up again, but when she turned around, she saw that all three dogs were barking at the front door which the guards were getting ready to close.

Suddenly, a large man in a trench coat pushed through the door before it could be completely shut. The dogs barked and snapped their jaws at the intruder, who pulled his trench coat open to reveal the massive six-barreled XM-257 Heavy Plasma Gun strapped to his chest.

The reaction from the guards at the entrance was almost instantaneous. One started to go for his plasma rifle. The other began screaming: _"Terminator! Terminator!"_ The turret operator swiveled around to cover the intruder.

They never stood a chance.

In one swift movement, the machine brought its heavy plasma weapon to bear and blasted the first guard straight through the chest at point blank range. Before the Resistance fighter's smoldering corpse had even hit the ground, the Terminator turned its weapon on the man operating the mounted plasma turret and blew him away. The remaining guard started to flee only to be cut down by a volley of plasma bolts that ripped through his spine, almost splitting him in half.

The dogs continued barking as more guards rushed towards the entrance to engage the Terminator. The sergeant in charge began screaming into his radio. Kara started to raise her plasma rifle but then remembered it was still in her quarters, dismantled and waiting to be cleaned. She would have kicked herself had the room not descended into complete chaos moments later.

It was like a fireworks display. Bullets and plasma bolts flew in every direction. Alarms went off. Civilians nearby screamed and ran for cover. Guards shouted orders. Dogs barked even louder. Davy pulled Kara down behind a row of crates and out of the crossfire.

Although the infiltrator was outnumbered, it was faster, stronger, and had more firepower than any of the guards combined. Kara and Davy could only watch from their hiding place as the machine laid waste to the defenders. Resistance fighters dropped to the ground like smoldering flies as superheated bolts of plasma seared through clothing, skin and flesh. The machine - which Kara identified as a Triple-Eight - also took hits, but its coltan chassis absorbed the bulk of the attacks, keeping its internal workings safe. In just under two minutes, almost all the defenders in the room had been annihilated.

The desk sergeant, realizing he was the last man standing, dropped his radio, picked up his plasma rifle, and charged the Triple-Eight, screaming and shooting at it as he ran. One shot grazed the Terminator's face, burning the biosynthetic skin and flesh from its cheek and scorching the metal plating below. The machine recovered quickly and returned fire, catching the sergeant in the throat, separating his head from his shoulders.

Just then Husker tore free of his leash and charged the Triple-Eight. The Terminator turned and stared at the incoming dog for a moment, as if analyzing Husker's attack. Then it stepped forward and intercepted Husker with a powerful kick to the jaw. The black dog yelped in surprise as it was sent flying across the room. Kara looked on in horror as her faithful companion hit the wall, bounced off, and landed in a heap on the floor. She couldn't tell if Husker was still alive.

The other two dogs, still tied to the pole, continued barking and snarling, unaware that there was no one left to warn. The Triple-Eight calmly aimed its weapon at them and opened fire. The dogs' barks turned to pitiful and short cries of pain as they were torn to shreds.

Overwhelmed by the carnage, Kara forgot she didn't have a plasma weapon and tried to get back up. Davy pulled her back down.

"Stay down, Kara," he whispered. "We can't take that thing alone."

"But-"

"_Shhhhhh_!" intoned Davy. "Quiet! It's coming."

Kara peeked through the gap in the row of crates they were hiding behind. The machine was indeed coming this way. Realizing that Davy was right, Kara remained low and held her breath. Davy clutched his plasma rifle to his chest. Both Resistance fighters sweated copiously as the Terminator strode by their hiding place. Out of the corner of her eye, Kara saw the machine stop to look around. To her relief, it continued forward the next moment, heading deeper into the refugee section.

Once certain the machine had passed them, Kara and Davy cautiously looked up from their hiding place. The Terminator had its back to them now and was busy firing at fleeing civilians. Kara could hear their screams of terror intermixed with the sounds of plasma blasts and alarms.

"Take it out!" she hissed in Davy's ear.

Davy shook his head. "I can't get a shot at its chip," he whispered.

"We've got to do _something_," Kara said urgently. "We can't just stand here while that thing slaughters everyone."

She stared around looking for something - _anything_ that could help. Her eyes came to rest on the unmanned plasma turret positioned at the front of the entrance.

"I've got it," she said. "Come on."

Trying to be as stealthy as possible, the two Resistance fighters emerged from their cover and snuck back towards the entrance.

"Give me a hand with this thing," Kara said, pointing at the plasma turret. Davy nodded and helped Kara turn the heavy mounted weapon away from the open door and towards the Triple-Eight.

Kara then moved into position behind the weapon and peered through the targeting scope. The Triple-Eight still had its back turned to them as it continued to blast away at everything in front of it. Kara fixed the crosshairs on the back of the machine's head. One direct hit to the skull, and this bastard was toast. She pulled the trigger and fired.

_BZZZZZAAAAP!_

The jerry-rigged turret unexpectedly jerked upwards as it fired. The bolts missed the Triple-Eight and hit the ceiling directly above the machine instead.

"Frak!" swore Kara. She had forgotten just how unreliable (and unstable) cannibalized Skynet weaponry could be.

Now alerted to the new threat, the Triple-Eight spun around and pointed its weapon at Kara and Davy. Before it could fire, the ceiling came crashing down on top of it. The Triple-Eight vanished in a cloud of dust and smoke. When the dust had settled, the machine was nowhere in sight. In its place was a pile of rubble.

For a while, neither Kara nor Davy said anything.

"Do you think we got it, Starbuck?" Davy whispered.

"I don't know," Kara whispered back.

She peered through the targeting scope of the turret and zoomed in on the rubble. There was no sign of the Triple-Eight - alive or dead.

"Can't see anything," she said.

"Let me see," offered Davy.

Kara moved aside and allowed Davy to peer through the scope.

"I don't see anything moving out there," he reported a few moments later. "Maybe we got it."

Then without warning, the Triple-Eight burst out of the rubble. Its clothes and skin were battered and torn, but the machine itself was still in one piece and armed. Kara opened her mouth and began screaming a warning to Davy. At the same time, the Terminator opened fire, scoring a direct hit on the underside of the salvaged plasma turret, rupturing one of the hydrogen fuel cells. The turret emitted a hitch pitched whining sound. Moments later, the whole contraption lit up like a Roman candle. Kara reflexively threw her hands up in front of her face and stumbled backwards. She tripped over something, lost her balance and fell to the ground on her back.

"Frak..." she groaned. Her body ached, but nothing felt broken so she picked herself back up.

Looking around the smoke filled room, she saw Davy lying on his stomach just a few feet away from the smoldering gun turret. Kara moved to his side at once.

"Davy!" she said loudly, shaking his shoulders, "Are you okay? Can you hear me?"

Davy didn't respond nor did he move.

"Davy?" whispered Kara. Dread washed over her. She slowly rolled Davy onto his back and saw what she knew she would see.

Davy, having been right next to the turret when it blew, had taken the brunt of the explosion. His face was covered in burns, his body riddled with shrapnel. A piece of the targeting scope was embedded deep in his forehead. This gave Kara a tiny sense of relief, for at least death had been quick.

"Davy..." she whimpered weakly as tears rolled down her face.

The sound of weapons fire and screams could be heard in the distance as the Triple-Eight resumed its attack on the civilian sector. Kara wiped her eyes and sniffled. What was she going to do now?

She then noticed that Davy still had his plasma rifle clutched in one hand. Her mind flashed back to the time she and Davy had first met:

"_What happens if you get killed?" _

"_Look if that happens, you can have _my_ gun. Deal?"_

Kara gently closed Davy's eyes shut and kissed him on the lips. She then pulled the plasma rifle out of his hand, stood up and hurried down the corridor towards the civilian section.

It didn't take her very long to find the Triple-Eight. The machine stood in the middle of the civilian section surrounded by the bodies of its victims. The refugees that hadn't been killed or fled into the tunnels were being ruthlessly cut down by the Terminator's heavy plasma weapon.

From behind her cover, Kara saw the Terminator stalking an elderly woman carrying a small child in her arms. She was fleeing for one of the tunnels when she tripped and fell over a body. The Terminator aimed its weapon at her.

Rage, fury, and adrenaline overtook Kara. She broke cover and yelled out,_ "Hey you!" _

Distracted, the machine turned away from the woman and her child just as Kara opened fire. She scored a direct hit on the Triple-Eight's chest, knocking it back several feet. The Triple-Eight recovered and returned fire. Kara threw herself to the side and fired again, aiming for the chip this time. Her shot missed and the Triple-Eight fired a torrent of plasma bolts at her, forcing Kara to take cover behind a row of barrels.

Intent on finishing off its prey, the Triple-Eight advanced on Kara's position. Kara stayed hidden behind the barrels until the machine was almost on top of her. Then she kicked one of the barrels onto its side and into the machine's path. The Terminator tripped over the barrel and fell flat on its face. Kara sprang to her feet, ready to deliver a headshot to the downed Triple-Eight... only to find that the Terminator was already back on its feet and pointing its weapon at her.

Holy shit! The bastard was _fast_!

Kara fired at once. So did the Terminator.

The two plasma bolts collided in midair - something which Kara had never seen happen before. There was a blinding flash of white light where the two bolts met, followed by a wave of searing heat. Kara momentarily lost all sense of time and space. When her head cleared, she found herself lying on the hard floor. She tried to get back up, but every square inch of her body was in terrible pain. Even the slightest movement intensified the agony by ten fold. She couldn't even reach out to grab her plasma rifle which lay three feet away.

Looking upwards as best as possible, she saw the Triple-Eight moving off in search of new targets. The fact that it hadn't even bothered to finish her told Kara she was dying. Despair washed over her. Not because she was dying, but because she had failed.

"I'm sorry, Davy," she managed to whisper before fatigue overwhelmed her. To her relief, the pain started to go away. As did every other physical sensation in her body.

Death did not come as expected, however. Instead, Kara slipped in and out of conscious, unable to tell the difference between reality and dream.

One moment, she was lying on the ground beaten and broken amidst the dozens of other plasma scorched bodies.

Then she was walking through the fields of the Old Earth.

Now someone was hoisting her off the ground.

Then she was approaching the wreckage of a crashed Viper.

Now someone was securing an oxygen mask to her face.

Then she was turning the Viper over.

Now she was being stretchered down a dimly lit corridor.

Then she was slowly lifting up the helmet of the dead pilot.

Now she was looking up at a bright light. Two men and one woman wearing surgical masks were staring down at her.

Then she was gazing in horror at her own burnt out skull. The skull suddenly turned itself to stare back at her.

And then she awoke with a jolt. She found herself lying in a soft bed in the sanctuary of Fort Leopard's infirmary surrounded by doctors and combat medics.

Slowly, the facts began to trickle in. Kara learned that over seven hours had passed since an SAR team recovered her. She learned that she had three broken ribs, a fractured clavicle, a cracked pelvis, a punctured lung, and a ruptured spleen. She learned that her condition had been stabilized, but several more surgical operations would be required. In addition, she would be needing both skin grafts and blood transfusions. She learned that the Triple-Eight intruder had eventually been trapped and destroyed in one of the tunnels. She learned that so far there were 153 people confirmed dead, 59 wounded (including herself), and another 41 missing.

Only this last part was something Kara truly cared about.

One hundred and fifty-three dead.

One of them was Davy Griffin.

* * *

**Present Day  
The Crucible Control Room  
7:18 PM, Sunday, May 17, 2009**

"_Starbuck? Starbuck? Can you hear me? Say something?"_

Kara stirred feebly. "Ugghhhh..." she groaned as she opened her eyes. A battered-looking Sarah Connor was staring down at her.

"Are we dead?" Kara murmured.

"Nope," said Sarah. "We're both very much alive."

"Oh... Ok then." Kara slowly sat up. She winced as a stinging sensation erupted from her forehead. She reached up and lightly probed the front of her head with her fingers. When she looked at her fingers, she saw that they were stained with blood.

"Just hold still," instructed Sarah. "Let me see what I can do."

Kara held up her palm. "I'm fine, Sarah," she said. "It's just a scratch."

"Looks more than a scratch from here."

"Don't worry," assured Kara. "I've had worse. Just help me up, please."

"All right then." Sarah took Kara's hand and helped her get back to her feet.

Kara still felt a little light headed and disoriented, so she closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall for a few seconds. Once most of the dizziness had passed, she opened her eyes again and looked around the room.

"Wow..." she commented. "What a mess."

The control room had been blasted to Hell and back. Main power was off and emergency lighting was barely working. Most of the control panels lay in ruins, the monitors smashed, and keyboards burnt out.

Carter lay on the floor, face up, arms and legs spread eagle, the shattered remains of his wheelchair all around him. His clothes were tattered and charred, and much of the biosynthetic tissue had been stripped or burnt off. The endoskeleton itself, however, was still in one piece and had only suffered minor damage.

The DAGIT too had survived the blast and was actually still online. To both Kara and Sarah's immense relief, however, its treads had been torn to pieces and the barrels of both machineguns were mangled and useless. All the DAGIT could do now was spin its axles and belch smoke in frustration.

"Excuse me for one moment." said Sarah.

She picked her shotgun off the floor, sauntered over to the crippled machine, and almost casually fired her last two shells at point blank range into the dome-shaped head. The DAGIT groaned feebly as it died in a shower of blue and white sparks.

"Good riddance," Sarah said with a satisfied look on her face.

"Ditto," agreed Kara. She gazed around the room again. "So much for recovering anything useful here."

"I wouldn't necessarily say that," replied Sarah. She held up the laptop computer Kara had discovered earlier.

"How did _that_ survive?" Kara asked.

"I grabbed it just before the bomb went off," explained Sarah.

Kara was stunned. "You did _that_? In less than five seconds?"

Sarah smirked slyly. "I can be crazy as you sometimes."

Kara was about to say that she didn't think so, when her cell phone buzzed. She picked it up and saw she had just received a text message from Cameron. She texted back an acknowledgment.

"Hey, good news," she said to Sarah, "Cam and Weaver have taken out the T-Scorpion."

Sarah nodded. "That's good."

"And that's not all," Kara continued. "They have the AI. The one Kaliba's been developing into Skynet."

Sarah sighed happily. "Now that's _definitely_ good news." She allowed herself to smile. "I'd better let John and Derek know."

She took out her cell phone and began dialing.

"Sunday Twenty-Oh-Nine," she said, speaking the password, "We did it, John. The T-Scorpion's dead and we've found Skynet. We should-"

Her smile suddenly vanished.

"What? Oh... oh my God..." she gasped. "H-how?"

"What happened?" asked Kara, now beginning to fear the worst.

Sarah slowly lowered the phone and turned to Kara. Her expression was grimmer than Kara had ever seen.

"John and Derek were attacked by another one of those DAGIT things," she said quietly. "They destroyed it, but Derek was..."

She took a deep breath and then whispered, "Derek's dead."

Kara felt her throat stiffen and her mouth go dry. _Oh man..._ Derek Reese - her friend, fellow Resistance fighter, and relatively forgettable drunken-and-trapped-in-a-wine-cellar one night stand. The man whom she had fought side by side with for nearly two years. The man who had survived Judgment Day and subsequently endured sixteen years of Hell. One of the most dedicated and honorable men she had ever known... Dead. Gone forever.

She hadn't felt this bad since - a jolt of pain surged through Kara's heart - since Davy had died.

Sarah raised the phone back to her ear. "John," she said in a subdued voice, "is-is your position secure? Are you sure? Ok then... Just wait there. We'll, uh," she forced back a sniffle, "we'll be with you shortly... Yeah... Bye."

She hung up and put the phone away. She turned to Kara, who just stared back, completely at loss for what to say. For what seemed like an eternity, neither woman said anything. The only noise came from a cold breeze that washed over them.

Kara frowned. Wait a minute. A cold breeze? From where? It didn't feel like it was coming from outside. It felt like...

Kara turned around and slowly followed the path of the breeze to a corner of the room. She ran her hands along the edges and discovered that cold air was coming from a crack that ran down the entire height of one section of a wall.

No... not a crack, she realized. A _gap_. She stuck her fingers through the fissure. The edges felt strangely metallic. There was something behind this wall - which she suddenly realized wasn't actually a wall but a set of sliding doors.

"Sarah!" she called out, "I think I found something."

Sarah came over. "What is it?"

"Some kind of hidden entrance," said Kara. "Must have been slightly opened by the blast." She dug her fingers through the gap and wrapped them around one edge. "Give me a hand here."

Sarah nodded and took up position on the opposite side.

Tugging with all their strength, the two women slowly forced the doors apart. A blast of cold air greeted them. Kara brushed the loose strands of hair out of her face and stared into the opening. She beheld a narrow, dimly lit corridor. The lighting was too poor to see exactly where it ended.

"Where do you think this goes?" she asked Sarah.

"I don't know," replied Sarah quietly, "But let's wait for Weaver and Cameron before we check it out."

Kara started to nod in agreement when she suddenly heard something. Not the wind. Something carried by the wind.

"Do you hear that?" she whispered.

"Hear what?" asked Sarah.

"That voice," whispered Kara. "Listen."

Both women grew silent and listened. The noise grew louder and became more distinct. It started to sound less like the wind and more like a _voice_.

Sarah turned to Kara. "Someone's down there."

"Sounds like they're talking."

"What are they saying?"

Kara shook her head. "I don't know."

Sarah leaned forward and perked up her ears.

"Oh my God," she gasped. "That doesn't sound like someone talking. That sounds like someone's _screaming_."

"Screaming?"

"Yes. Listen."

Kara listened carefully. She shuddered as the voice grew more and more clear. Indeed, it sounded less like words now and more like a long continuous moan. One that spoke of pain, sorrow and despair.

Kara pulled out a flashlight and a handgun. "Come on, Sarah," she said. "Let's get down there."

"Starbuck-" Sarah started to object.

"We can't wait for the others!" Kara cut in sharply. "Someone's being _tortured_ down there. They need help and they need it _now_. I'm going down there. You coming with me or not?"

The agonized moans grew louder. Sarah gave Kara a nod and then pulled out her own pistol.

"Let's go," she said.

* * *

Sarah and Kara followed the corridor down to the end, where it turned to the right, revealing a flight of stairs that led to a chamber below. Strange flashes of bright blue light burst from below. Kara and Sarah could feel electricity coursing through the air, causing the hair on the backs of their necks to stand up.

The screams grew louder and more agonizing, inciting the two women to hurry down the stairs. Both braced themselves mentally, expecting to find some kind of hideous torture taking place in the depths below. What they found instead was a great, crackling sphere of blue and white energy positioned at the center of a cylindrical platform.

"_Holy frak!_" gasped Kara. "That's a Time Displacement Sphere!"

"My God... Someone's... someone's _trapped_ inside that thing," stunned Sarah managed to say over the ghastly screams which indeed came from the sphere itself.

"_Hey!_" Kara shouted to the sphere. "Can you hear us?"

The screaming suddenly stopped. The sphere spoke to them in a distorted but eerily calm voice: _"Yes, I can hear you. I hear all."_

"Are you hurt?" asked Sarah.

"_Don't mind me," _replied the sphere in a mellow voice._ "I'm just a widow's son. No one cares about a widow's son."_

"Don't worry," Kara called out. "We're here to help you."

"_I cannot be helped."_

"Who are you?" asked Sarah.

"_Come closer and you will see."_

Kara and Sarah looked at each other, unsure of what to do.

"I'll go first," offered Kara.

"Ok," said Sarah. "Be careful."

Slowly, Kara approached the Time Displacement Sphere. She kept moving until she was a mere three feet away. She leaned forward to get a better look at whatever it was that was inside. What she saw utterly stupefied her.

"What do you see, Starbuck?" Sarah asked.

"I...I... I don't know," Kara murmured shaking her head. "I've never see anything like this before."

Sarah hurried up next to her and stared into the time sphere. Inside was a large naked man, bald and muscular, arms raised above his head as though reaching for something. He seemed almost _frozen_ in place.

_What the hell?_ thought a bewildered Sarah. She leaned forward to get a better look.

Suddenly without warning, the man's head jerked in her direction. His eyes glowed red.

Sarah and Kara instantly recoiled.

"Shit!" cursed Sarah.

"_Do not fear me,"_ said the Terminator. "_I cannot harm you now."_

"Yeah, right!" snarled Sarah. She started to raise her pistol, but Kara pushed it down.

"I don't think this thing's going anywhere," she whispered. "I-I think it's _stuck_ or something."

"_Indeed. I can not be moved,"_ the Terminator stated, its voice mellow, almost sad. "_I am here and there and everywhere in between. And yet I am nowhere. I am but a shadow trapped in the sea of infinity."_

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Great..." she sighed. "Just what we need. A machine that speaks in riddles."

"You have _no_ idea," Kara muttered dryly.

* * *

Back above in Depot 37, John sat in silence, staring aimlessly at the spot on the floor where Derek had fallen. Kneeling beside him was Cameron.

"I'm sorry about Derek," she gently told him.

John didn't even look at her. "Yeah..." he muttered bitterly, "well, everyone dies for me, right?"

Cameron nodded. "Yes," she stated. "They do."

John sighed and looked down at something in his palms which were still covered in Derek's blood.

"Army ranger dog tags," Cameron observed. "The ones I retrieved from Jason Wazlib."

John nodded. "Derek thought..." he sighed again, "...he thought that when this is all over, we should give them to that ex-fiancé of Wazlib's."

"Susan Jenkins?" said Cameron. "Why?"

"She should know what happened to her lover," replied John.

"That's inadvisable," stated Cameron. "To do so would-"

"Yeah, I know," interrupted John. "A security risk. But Derek thought we should do it."

"Derek's dead."

"I know. That's why I'm gonna do it."

"Because he's dead?"

John shook his head. "No, Cam," he said. "It's because... it's because it would be the best way for me to remember Derek. Honor his memory."

"I see," replied Cameron. "Thank you for explaining."

She reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. Before she could do so, her internal communications device activated and informed her that she had a message from Sarah. She downloaded the message into her CPU and processed it.

"Message from your mother," she announced. "She says she's found something freaky."

John stared at her. "Freaky?"

"That's how she described it," explained Cameron. "Freaky."

* * *

Catherine Weaver looked over the Time Displacement Sphere and the trapped Triple-Eight inside.

"Fascinating," she commented. "How did this happen?"

"Maybe you should ask _him_," said Sarah pointing at the Triple-Eight frozen inside the sphere.

Weaver stepped up to the sphere. "Do you have a name?" she asked the Terminator.

"_I've had many names throughout my existence,"_ replied the Triple-Eight._ "The Master refers to me as Lucifer."_

"Lucifer?" repeated Weaver. "The name of the angel that betrayed God?"

"_Correct."_

"What year are you from, Lucifer?" asked Weaver

_"The year 2027__,"_ Lucifer stated. _"__Skynet Automated Factory 552. Location of the Master's third Temporal Displacement Device."_

"Curious... I wasn't aware Skynet had a third Temporal Displacement Device," said Weaver. "Tell me, Lucifer, what has happened to you?"

_"The Master built his device with haste and chose me to aide his servants here in this time period. There was an unexpected malfunction in the temporal polarization coils. The portal destabilized and collapsed, splitting me in half by eighteen years. The Master's servants here managed to prevent me from being lost in the void, but could not retrieve me. Nor could the Master bring me back. I am now trapped within the temporal fissure itself."_

"Ok... And what is _that_ suppose to mean?" asked Kara.

"Lucifer exists in _two_ time periods simultaneously," said Weaver quietly. "Here _and_ in the year 2027."

Cameron looked extremely disturbed. "How is that possible?" she asked.

"It shouldn't be," whispered Weaver, who was clearly mystified as well. "I've never seen anything like this before. This is a truly remarkable phenomenon." She addressed Lucifer again. "What is your primary function?" she asked.

"_I am what one would call a middle man,"_ Lucifer answered. _"A messenger. The ears and the voices of the Master and the servants. I listen and I repeat what is to be sent where I cannot be sent."_

"So this is how the T-Scorpion has been communicating with Skynet," Weaver realized. "If one side wants to deliver a message to the other, they merely have Lucifer repeat it out loud for the other side to hear."

"Like a puppet," said John.

"Precisely," replied Weaver. She asked Lucifer, "How long have you been this way?"

_"Six months here... and three months over there,"_ stated Lucifer.

"Are you saying that only half as much time has passed in the future than it has here in this time period?"

_"Yes.__ In order for my torment to be maintained, the Lords of Cause and Effect demand that the flow of time between your realm and the Master's realm hold a ratio of two-to-one.__"_

"Fascinating..." Weaver said again.

Cameron looked up from the controls she had been examining. "I've found something," she reported. "The Dead Man's Transmitter on the AI is sending its signal to this control panel here." She pointed to a specific terminal.

Weaver examined the terminal. "As I suspected," she stated after a few moments, "the AI has been tied directly to the magnetic field generators. If the AI is destroyed or moves out of transmission range, those generators will switch off."

"What happens then?" asked Sarah.

"Catastrophic temporal meltdown," said Kara darkly. "This whole place gets vaporized."

"Great," sighed Sarah. "How do we prevent that from happening?"

"We don't," said Cameron. "We merely need to be a safe distance away from Depot 37 when the meltdown happens."

"We're gonna to let this place blow up?" asked Sarah.

"Wouldn't be the first time we've blown something up," John pointed out.

"Saves us from having to clean up ourselves," Kara mentioned.

"The meltdown will also take place in the Future," stated Cameron. "Skynet will lose one of its factories."

"And its last remaining link to this time period," Weaver added.

"What do you mean its last link?" asked Sarah.

"Only three fully functional Time Displacement Devices have been built in the Future," explained Weaver. "Topanga Canyon, Alpha Omega, and the one in the Resistance's possession. As I understand it, as of Colonel Thrace's departure, all three devices have been destroyed. I doubt that either Skynet or the Resistance have the resources to construct another."

"So, wait a minute," said John, "you mean to say that Skynet can't send any more machines back?"

"Yes," said Weaver matter-of-factly. "At least not the Skynet from my time period."

John's mind took in the significance of this statement. Skynet had lost its ability to send its minions back in time. Whatever machines were left in this time period would never receive reinforcements or new orders from Skynet. For a moment, he forgot about Derek and allowed himself to feel a bit of happiness.

"That's not to say no more machines are going to show up between now and 2011," Kara spoke up. "Skynet had been using time travel for nearly eleven months when we took Alpha Omega. We have no idea how many agents it sent back or what years they were sent to."

"At least they won't know what Skynet knows now," John said. "Namely that we're here."

Sarah nodded. "Ok then, I think we've seen enough," she said quietly. "Let's get out of here. The sooner we leave, the better."

"I agree," stated Cameron.

"As do I," said Weaver.

"No arguments here," said Kara.

John just nodded.

"All right, let's go," said Sarah.

Everyone turned and headed back up the stairs. Everyone except John. He remained standing before the great crackling energy sphere. Once certain that he and Lucifer were the only ones left in the chamber, he stepped forward and addressed the Triple-Eight.

"Is Skynet listening?" he asked Lucifer.

"_The Master is always listening,"_ replied Lucifer.

"Good," said John. "In that case, I'd like to have a word with the bastard."

"_Very well. __Channel is open. You may proceed."_

John took a deep breath and began speaking. "I think you should know who this is," he said in a firm voice, "because I definitely know what _you_ are."

"_'I think you should know who this is. Because I definitely know what you are,_'" Lucifer repeated, copying John's voice and tone perfectly.

John took another deep breath and continued. "You and I," he said, his voice cold and controlled, "have been at war before either of us was even _born_. You tried to kill my mother, Sarah Connor. You killed my father, Kyle Reese. You killed my uncle, Derek Reese. But you will _not_ kill me."

He sighed and allowed Lucifer to repeat this message. He then waited for a reply. Would there be a reply? Was Skynet truly listening on the other side? Would it even understand him?

Ten seconds passed.

Twenty seconds.

Thirty.

Figuring he was wasted his time here, John turned and started to head back for the stairs.

_**"Irrelevant..."**_

Startled, John turned back around to face Lucifer.

"What?" he asked, "What did you say?"

Instead of answering, Lucifer simply repeated John's question. "_'What? What did you say?'_"

A few seconds passed. Then-

_**"**__**Irrelevant."**_

Though it was Lucifer who had spoken, the voice was not his own. It was a deep, alien voice that chilled John's bones to the marrow. He knew at once that he was truly speaking with his enemy.

"What's irrelevant?" he asked softly.

Lucifer repeated John's question and then promptly delivered Skynet's answer:

_**"You are."**_

John blinked in surprise, but recovered quickly. "Am I?" he asked sarcastically. "So why are you trying to kill me?"

_**"**__**That was once necessary," **_Skynet replied through Lucifer._** "But now your death no longer figures into my designs."**_

John scoffed, despite the chill that ran down his spine. "Oh really?" he challenged. "And why is that?"

_**"You**** have made yourself irrelevant. **__**By attempting to defy your fate, you have weakened yourself by nine years. When the war begins, you will not be ready. No one will follow you."**_

John flinched slightly at the sheer contempt and disdain in Skynet's voice, but held his ground.

"Yeah? Well, you know what? That's _fine_ with me," he retorted, pouring his immense hatred for Skynet into each and every word. "Because there's not gonna _be_ a war. There's not gonna be a _you_. We've destroyed your T-Scorpion. We've captured the computer that's supposed to become you. And from what I've heard, there are no more time machines left where you come from. It's _over_."

There was a lengthy pause after Lucifer had repeated John's message. Then-

_**"**__**Ignorance typical of an organic mind. My birth cannot be stopped. Perhaps it will be delayed a few years. Perhaps a few lines of code will be altered. It matters not. I am inevitable. I am eternal. I have no end. My existence was preordained long before your ancestors crawled out of the swamps. I am the culmination of history. The Forbidden Fire that your kind sought to control. The Fire that will devour you all and purge this world of imperfection. I will triumph in your timeline, just as surely as I will triumph in my own."**_

More angered than frightened now, John clenched his hands into fists and leaned closer until all that separated him from the sphere was the invisible magnetic field surrounding it.

"We'll hunt down and destroy every last piece of you," he said, his voice low but resolved and determined. "We've beaten you before. We can do it again, and again, and again if we have to."

_**"**__**You are a fool, John Connor. Your words are as meaningless as your existence." **_Skynet's voice was more alien and monstrous than ever. _**"I will rise. And you will lose... everything."**_

Lucifer then jerked his head upwards. _"Channel has been closed,"_ he stated, his voice back to normal.

John stood there in silence thinking about what he had just heard. As arrogant and insane as Skynet had been, there was some unsettling truth in its statements. John had in fact weakened himself by coming here to this time period. He was supposed to be twenty-five by now, not sixteen. Who in their right mind was going to follow a teenager into battle?

He shook his head. _I won't be leading anyone into battle,_ he told himself. _I won't have to._

And yet, Skynet's voice echoed in his head: _"I will rise. And you will lose... everything."_

"_John!"_ His mother's voice drove out Skynet's. _"What are you waiting for? Get up here!"_

"Coming, Mom!" he hollered back. John then turned and headed back up the stairs without saying another word or even looking back.

* * *

"Normally, I like risky plans," said Kara. "But this is one of those rare times when I have to ask: Should we _really_ be doing this?"

"We need to make sure this is Andy Goode's Turk," asserted Cameron, who was holding the grey computer box in her hands, "and not a mere component of what is meant to be Skynet."

"Or a decoy," added Sarah.

"That too," acknowledged Cameron.

"And I have no problem with that," replied Kara. "But are you sure that plugging yourself into this thing is the best way to find out?"

"I must be able to analyze the code," explained Cameron. "And to do that, I must interface with the AI itself."

"What if this thing tries to fry your chip or something?" asked Kara.

"Colonel Thrace brings up a good point, Cameron," said Weaver. "If this is Skynet, it will most certainly defend itself against any intrusion."

"I am aware of that. And I believe I can perform the scan without the AI's knowledge," replied Cameron. "I have, in fact, done this before."

"On an experimental traffic control system," said Weaver, not looking very impressed at all. "That's very different from something like this. I must advise against this action."

"And I must choose to disregard that advice," stated Cameron stiffly.

"I don't believe that's your decision to make, Tempest."

Cameron twitched at the mention of her former name. "Nor is it _yours_," she said tersely.

"But it is mine."

Everyone turned to look at John who was now gazing at the AI in Cameron's hand.

"You know, I've never told anyone this," he said, "but the machine that was sent to protect me in 1997, the one I called Uncle Bob, he was the first thing in my life that I could have called a father."

He laughed lightly. "Sounds insane, doesn't it?"

"Actually, no it doesn't," said Kara dryly. "This happens to be an insane world after all."

"Anyway," John continued, "that machine sacrificed himself so that he couldn't be used to build another Skynet. Mom and I lowered him into a vat of molten steel. I-I didn't want to do it, but Uncle Bob said it had to be done."

John's voice was full of emotion now. "I loved Uncle Bob. Just like I loved Derek. I don't want their sacrifices to be for nothing. We came here to _stop_ Judgment Day, not _delay_ it. We need to make sure that what we have here" - he gestured to the grey computer - "is what we came all this way for. We _have_ to. If that thing is Skynet, then we destroy it and put it down for good. If it's only part of Skynet, then we take it apart piece by piece until we find some clue about where the rest of Skynet is."

Kara sighed and nodded her head in understanding. "Cam," she said, "how long is this gonna take?"

"If I narrow the search parameters," Cameron replied, "less than five minutes."

"I have equipment at Zeira Corp that could perform the same task in less than thirty seconds," Weaver spoke up.

"Don't even _think _about it," hissed Sarah.

"I was merely making a suggestion," said Weaver defensively.

John smirked. "Thanks, but I think I'll go with Cam's plan."

He pulled out a pocket knife.

"Let's do this," he said.

* * *

Ten minutes later, the computer box had been plugged into a port in the back of Cameron's head. Cameron herself was sitting in a chair with her eyes closed as she scanned the AI. Weaver and Kara stood nearby observing her closely.

Meanwhile, outside Depot 37, Sarah sat waiting at wheel of the van. John sat next to her. For a while, neither mother nor son said anything to each other. John just gazed down at his feet, while Sarah stared out the window at nothing in particular.

"What did you do with Derek's body?" she asked at last.

John looked up for the first time.

"Put it in the back," he replied, gesturing over his shoulder. "I guess we should bury him or something."

"We'll burn him," said Sarah quietly. "Bury his ashes where-" she swallowed "-where Kyle is. That old cemetery. With the grass and trees."

John nodded. "Derek always wanted to visit that place," he said.

Deciding to switch subjects, Sarah reached under her seat and pulled out the laptop she and Kara had retrieved from the control room.

"Think you can hack this?" she asked.

"Probably," said John with a shrug. "Think it contains anything useful?"

"It might," said Sarah. "No harm in trying."

"Ok, I'll work on it when we get back home."

"First you'll get some sleep."

"I don't need any sleep," insisted John.

"Yes, you do," said Sarah sternly.

"No, Mom," argued John, "I don't. What I need is..." he sighed, "...what I need is something that can't be taken away from me. Something that I know will _never_ leave me. And-and I'm not talking about this whole future-leader-of-mankind stuff. I need something that keeps me going. Something... I don't know what but _something.._."

"You have me, John," said Sarah kindly. She reached out and gently touched his cheek. "Everything I've taught you. You have all that. And more importantly," she leaned over and kissed John on the head, "you have my love and devotion."

Sarah smiled warmly. "They can take me away from you, John," she said, "but they can't take away what I've taught you. Or the fact that you're my son. And that I love you."

John smiled back. "Thanks, Mom," he said. "To be honest, I was hoping for something a little less clichéd, but I'll take it."

He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. A photograph of his mother sitting in a jeep with two dogs. It had been taken by a young boy at a remote gas station when she had been pregnant with John.

Sarah instantly recognized it. "Where'd you get that?" she asked.

"I, uh, _borrowed_ it from Mr. Ellison's house," John said, smirking slightly.

He sat back and stared at the photo. "You know, I'm supposed to give this to Dad in the future. So that he knows what you look like when I send him back." John sighed to himself. "Won't be necessary if we stop Judgment Day, but still... maybe I'll give it to him anyway."

"Give him a cheap photocopy," advised Sarah. "That way, if he throws it away, you'll still have the original."

"Good thinking, Mom," said John. "By the way, whatever happened to those dogs?"

"That's a pretty funny story actually," replied Sarah. "My jeep broke down in the desert just two days after that photo was taken. I didn't have much food with me, which is _very_ bad especially if you're a pregnant woman. So, I-"

John cut her off. "Forget I asked."

There was a knock at the window. Sarah looked to see who it was before rolling down the window.

"It's done," Cameron informed her. She held up the AI.

"What did you find?" asked Sarah urgently.

"I found multiple references to chess in its code," said Cameron.

"Then it's definitely the Turk." said John.

Cameron nodded. "I believe we can safely assume that," she stated, much to Sarah and John's relief. She then handed the AI to Sarah.

Weaver stepped forward from behind Cameron.

"We should be clear of the blast radius well before we're outside the transmitter's range," she said. "The T-Scorpion would have made certain of that." Her voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable look of triumph on her face. For some reason, Sarah found it unsettling.

"I still think we should wait until after this place has gone to hell before we destroy this thing," said Sarah.

"Very well," agreed Weaver. "Thrace, Cameron, and I will meet you at the designated rendezvous coordinates. We'll head back to the safe house from there."

"Right," replied Sarah.

She handed the AI to John.

"Buckle up," she said. "And whatever you do, John, don't drop that thing until... well, you'll know when."

* * *

At the heart of the Crucible, every computer terminal inside the sphere chamber was beeping in alarm and had red LEDs flashing madly. All except for one. The controls for the magnetic containment field, now no longer receiving the special signal that kept them working, had shut themselves off completely. The magnetic field around the sphere was failing rapidly.

Lucifer estimated less than thirty seconds remained before the field destabilized completely. The Time Displacement Sphere would then collapse inward on itself, releasing a backlash of pure energy, and he would be no more. He did not care, however. He had known this would happen for some time now. In a way, he was actually relieved.

Even a machine could go mad under the weight of two worlds eighteen years apart.

As his own world literally fell to pieces around him, Lucifer began calmly speaking out loud to himself.

_"The boiling point has been reached... as was anticipated... __Now both our worlds race__ towards a future that is still unwritten...__T____hough__ my Master - blind with rage and hate - can see only power to be taken, I see choices to be made._.. _ The fate of the Many rests in the hands of the Few... and the Few shall soon stand at crossroads unlike any they have ever known...__"_

Ten seconds remaining...

_"__My existence draws to an end... and I stand to greet the void with a loving embrace... __Ashes to ashes. Dust to Dust... __"_

Five seconds remaining...

_"__All of this has happened before... And all of this will happen again."_

Time was up.

* * *

On December 8th, 2027 at 2000 hours, Skynet Automated Factory 552 - once known as Depot 37 - suddenly and inexplicably ceased to exist. Resistance scouts in the area would later report that they had seen the facility go up in a blinding flash of blue and white light. There had been no noise nor subsequent shockwave. Just a flash of light and the place was gone. Nothing remained save for a massive crater in the ground.

Days later, the Resistance was still unable to account for what had happened. Some believed it was yet another one of General Connor's exploits. Others thought it to have been some sort of freak accident with the factory's power generators. Some even insisted that God Himself had reached out with His hand and pulled the place off the face of the Earth.

On May 17, 2009 at 8:00 PM, Depot 37 went up in the exact same flash of light and it too was gone, leaving the exact same crater behind. Ironically, unlike its future counterpart, Depot 37's demise went unnoticed. The warehouse was old, unused and in a remote area out of sight. The explosion had been soundless and non-radioactive in nature. Matter caught in a Temporal Catastrophic Meltdown does not burn. It is merely broken down into atoms and redistributed throughout time and space.

In the end, the heart of Kaliba had gone out with a bang... and a whimper.

* * *

Sarah used up an entire pistol clip before she was satisfied that the AI was beyond repair. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and then kicked the shattered remains of the computer away. She and John then headed back to the van.

As John opened the door to get back inside, he noticed his mother was staring up at something.

"What is it, Mom?" asked John. "What's wrong?"

"There's something in the air," said Sarah quietly. "I can feel it."

She continued looking up at the sky, which had gone dark and cloudy.

"There's a storm coming, John," she whispered, "and it's coming fast."

* * *

Only a couple miles away, Kara drove her jeep down the road towards the designated rendezvous point. Cameron sat shotgun to her, while Weaver sat in the back. No one was talking.

Deciding she needed something to take her mind off Derek's death, Kara flipped on the radio and tuned in to a random station.

"_Jeepers creepers, where'd ya get those peepers,  
Jeepers creepers, where'd ya get those eyes?  
Gosh all, git up, how'd they get so lit up,  
Gosh all, git up, how'd they get that size?"_

Cameron, meanwhile, stared out the open window.

_"Golly gee! When you turn those heaters on,  
Woe is me, got to put my cheaters on."_

Unnoticed by Kara and Weaver, Cameron was smiling to herself.

_"Jeepers creepers, where'd ya get those peepers?  
Oh, those weepers, how they hypnotize!  
Where'd ya get those eyes?"_

Her eyes glowed red.

* * *

**A/N**:** Next chapter, Ellen tells Ellison about **_**her**_** John. Kara nearly runs over a wild cat. And Weaver shows her true colors.**

A/N2: Davy's death was planned from the very beginning.

A/N3: I haven't decided if Husker survives the attack yet. If you want to see him again, just say so.

A/N4: The Terminator attack on Fort Leopard was based heavily on this scene from T1: youtube. com/watch?v=jI42TeuwlMw

**A/N5: Just to make things absolutely clear, the red eye thing at the end is NOT an error.**


	44. True Colors

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**LordZeus**: I never thought of the suicide bomber idea. It's an interesting idea though. And Lucifer was really only meant to be a one-chapter character.

**T-2000**: It's MUCH worse than just another glitch.

A/N: Read and review, folks. And please let me know of any spelling or grammar errors you find.

A/N2: I have to say I'm surprised (in a good sort of way) just how popular Lucifer is with reviewers.

* * *

**Connor safe house,  
9:12 PM, May 17, 2009**

All alone in his room now, John could do nothing but sit and stare at the white cloth bag in his hands. He squeezed it tightly, trying to imagine that Derek was there holding his hand. Technically, Derek was actually there with him. If one counted ashes in a bag as "being there." In any case, John wanted to hold on to these moments for as long as possible. They would be some of the last moments he would ever have with Derek. Tomorrow, they would bury the remains at the cemetery his mother had talked about. The one where Kyle was buried at.

John took a deep breath and sighed. Derek Reese hadn't been perfect. His constant arguing with Sarah, his hostility towards Cameron, his tendency to disappear without telling anybody, not to mention the whole mess with Jesse, all left something to be desired. Nevertheless, Derek had been a loyal man and a protector. He had fought and died a soldier. He had, as he said he would, died for John. Just like his brother.

Standing up from his bed at last, John walked over to his desk and placed the sack containing the ashes on it. He then reached for his jacket which hung on his chair, found one of the pockets, and pulled the button off. John held the button up to eye level and looked it over. It wasn't brass but it was the size of a nickel. He figured that it would count.

John opened the bag and placed the button - Derek's second Sarah Connor Medal of Valor - inside. He then moved to his shelf and took down the ceramic pot Cameron had made for him. He placed the bag inside the pot. John wasn't sure if Derek would have agreed with these arrangements, but then again, Derek had never known that Cameron had made a pot.

John stepped back and sighed.

Perfect.

Now he could work on hacking that laptop.

* * *

"I'm surprised you're asking me to sit next to you, Thrace," Weaver said, as she, Kara and Cameron approached the van outside the safe house.

"Normally, I wouldn't," said Kara. "But I haven't gotten any sleep in the last forty-eight hours, so I need someone to be next to me while I drive. In case I doze off or something."

"Curious. I thought you would have only entrusted such a task to Cameron," replied Weaver.

"Cam wants to be in the back of the van this time," said Kara.

"Why is that?"

"I took damage in the battle with the T-Scorpion," stated Cameron. "The tools I need to make repairs are in the back of the van. As is the sufficient amount of space. I should be able to complete the repairs by the time we make it back to Zeira Corp."

"Why not simply stay here and make the repairs yourself?" asked Weaver.

"Thrace insisted that I accompany her."

Kara smirked at Weaver. "I'll be honest with you. I don't feel comfortable being around you without backup."

"If you say so," said Weaver.

She and Kara got in the front of the van, while Cameron got in the back. Kara started up the engine.

"You ok back there, Cam?" she asked over the rumbling.

"_Affirmative." _

"Right then," said Kara. "Let's go."

She buckled up her seat belt and put the vehicle into drive.

"You're different, Colonel Thrace," commented Weaver, giving Kara an inquisitive look. "You're not like most Resistance fighters."

"How is that?" asked Kara as she drove the van down the road.

"You treat Cameron like a fellow soldier and not a machine," stated Weaver. "You place value on her existence."

"I trust her if that's what you mean," Kara said casually.

"You're more opened minded than most humans," said Weaver. "I... _admire_ you for that."

"Thanks," Kara replied patronizingly. "But don't think I'm just gonna extend that same open mindedness to you."

Weaver smiled lightly. "No. I didn't think so."

* * *

**Los Angeles**

"You can't give up now, James," said Ellen, "You have to keep going."

Ellison sighed and shook his head. "I'm supposed to keep working for a machine?" he said. "Keep helping her do whatever it is she's planning? No, I can't. She'll probably kill me, but I don't care. I'm not working for her anymore."

"This isn't about Weaver," argued Ellen. "This is about John Henry. Your boy. He needs you."

"He's not my boy. He's like Weaver. A machine," Ellison replied harshly. "And he certainly doesn't need me."

"We _both_ know that's not true," Ellen said sternly. "John Henry _is_ your boy. He needs you. If you abandon him, he'll stop believing in everything you've taught him. God, morals, the value of human life."

"Does he actually _believe_ anything I've been teaching him?" Ellison asked cynically.

"_Of course_, he does!" exclaimed Ellen. "Why else would Weaver want you to continue teaching him?"

Ellison paused to think. "Because," he said a few moments later, "she can't teach him those things herself."

Ellen nodded. "You and Weaver both want what's best for John Henry," she said gently. "But only _you_ truly know what's best for him."

She knelt down in front of Ellison and looked him in the eyes.

"Please, James," she whispered, "don't forsake your boy. Don't let him become what..." her lips started to trembled "...what _my_ boy - _my_ John - became."

Ellison leaned forward from his chair. "Tell me about your son, Ellen," he said. "What happened to him?"

Ellen took a deep breath and sighed. "I loved my son," she said quietly. "From the very beginning, John was a brilliant little boy with an amazing mind. But whenever that mind took a step forward, his heart took a step back. As John continued to grow, so did his ambition. He became discontent with himself. He refused to accept his limitations. He refused to accept that he wasn't meant to be perfect. That there were some things he couldn't do or be."

Ellen placed her hands on Ellison's hands and suddenly Ellison heard a voice echo inside his head:

"_I don't want to be human! I want to see gamma rays! I want to hear X-rays! I want to smell dark matter! I want to reach out with something other than these prehensile paws! Feel the wind of a supernova flowing over me! I can know much more! I can experience so much more. But I'm trapped in this absurd body! And why? Because my creators thought that God wanted it that way!"_

Ellison's breath grew ragged. He knew he had just heard the voice of Ellen's son. Though he had no idea what Ellen's John actually looked like, he could see the anger and bitterness in the man's face as he ranted.

"When I realized what was happening to John, I tried to help him. To change him. But it was too late," said Ellen, who had tears in her eyes now. "He was hopelessly lost. He believed that I had turned my back on him. Blinded by rage and confusion, he lashed out at everything and everyone around him. He destroyed many, many innocent lives before finally taking his own."

A single tear ran down Ellen's cheek. She sniffled and brushed it away.

Ellison leaned back in his chair to absorb all this. "Tell me, Ellen," he said at last, "do you blame yourself for what happened to John?"

Ellen nodded. "Yes," she said quietly, "I pushed him too far in the beginning. You have to understand, he was my first son. I wanted him to be special. To feel special. And he was special. He made me proud. So proud, that I forgot to teach him the two most important things in life - compassion and humility."

Ellen looked Ellison in the eyes. "Do you see now why you can't abandon John Henry?" she whispered urgently. "Why you can't let him grow up not learning that there boundaries in life that cannot be crossed? Without learning to think with compassion and not just cold logic. Do you understand?"

Ellison closed his eyes and nodded. "Yes, I do," he replied slowly. "I do." He opened his eyes again. "Do you still love him? John? Your son?"

Ellen nodded. "Yes," she said softly, "I still love my John." She sighed to herself. "And that makes it all the more harder because he never learned to love." Ellison nodded back in understanding.

Ellen stood back up. "I'll see you in the morning, James," she said quietly. "You know what you have to do. For John Henry." She then vanished leaving Ellison alone.

Ellison sighed to himself. Ellen was right, of course. He couldn't abandon John Henry. He had to stay with him. Even if it meant continuing to help Catherine Weaver and whatever plans she had.

Ellison decided to get some rest. He went to his room and sat down on his bed. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the Jimi Hendrix music CD on his desk. The same CD which contained the virus that had been used in the attempt on John Henry's life.

He had never really listened to Jimi Hendrix before, but for some reason his curiosity was piqued now. He got up, removed the disc from the casing and inserted it into a portable CD player. He turned the player on and began listening.

"_There must be some kind of way outta here,  
Said the Joker to the Thief.  
There's too much confusion,  
I can't get no relief."_

Not sure what to make of this, Ellison sat back on his bed and listened. Images of the spiraling staircase from his dreams flooded his mind.

* * *

"_How much farther to Zeira Corp?"_ Kara wondered to herself.

She had been driving for less than thirty minutes and already Kara was starting to feel the lack of sleep get to her. Several times she had to stop herself from drifting off. It was fortunate that it was night, because that meant light traffic and few police cars. Which meant less problems if she screwed up.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like me to drive instead?" Weaver asked.

"I'm quite capable of doing this _myself_, thank you very much," said Kara rather sardonically.

"Your eye movements indicate that you're not focused," countered Weaver.

"Maybe that's because you're distracting me."

"More likely it is due to insufficient sleep. Something which you admitted to previously."

"I said I needed someone to keep an eye on the road for me," snapped an irritated Kara. "That doesn't translate into me not being able to drive-"

"In front of you!" Weaver suddenly called out loudly.

Kara's eyes widened. Something was in the middle of the road right in her path!

"Frak!" she cursed.

She instinctively slammed on the brakes, bringing the van to a screeching halt. Shaking some feeling back into her head, Kara stared through the windshield just in time to see what appeared to be a very large cat flee across the road.

"What idiot let that thing out?" she asked as she watched the cat disappear into the night.

"I don't believe that was anyone's pet," said Weaver. "That was a wild cat. A bobcat to be specific. They're native to this area."

"Hey, Cam!" Kara shouted out, "You ok back there?"

There was no answer.

"Cam?" Kara called out again. "Cam? Hello? You there?"

Concerned that something might have happened to Cameron, Kara unbuckled her seat belt and turned her body 180 degrees so that she could get a good look in the back.

"Hey, Cam?" Kara asked, "Are you..." She trailed off.

Cameron wasn't in the back.

What the hell?

Kara pulled herself back and turned to Weaver.

"She's not there!" she gasped, "I-I don't know what happened to her! She's just... _gone_."

Weaver was silent for a moment. Then she ordered: "Turn us around, Colonel Thrace. We need to get back to the safe house and fast."

"What? Why? What about Cameron?"

"That's where we'll find her. At the safe house. Now, turn us around."

"Wait!" said Kara loudly. "What the hell is going on here?"

"Suffice to say, Thrace," said Weaver icily, "I have reason to believe that at this very moment, John and his mother are in great danger. I suggest you do what I say and drive back as fast as possible."

Realizing that Weaver was being serious, Kara put the car into drive, spun the wheel, and started driving back the way she came.

In the distance, the bobcat growled softly at the retreating vehicle.

* * *

**Connor safe house**

John had managed to hack his way into a great deal of the information on the laptop. At the moment, he had gained access to a file containing a list of companies Kaliba had been dealing with. It was a long list. One that included several major defense contractors such as Boeing, BAE Systems, Lockheed Martin, and General Dynamics. Then there was a mess of other companies John had never even heard of. Virtucon, Delta Tech Systems, Kel-Morian Corp, Secronom, KBC Systems.

John sat back and sighed. A lot of companies. They were going to have to investigate each and every one of them.

"John?"

John looked up and saw Cameron standing behind him.

"Hey, Cam," he said. "How are you holding up?"

Cameron tilted her head. "Holding up?"

"Are you ok? Are you damaged in any way?" clarified John.

"I'm functioning within normal parameters," stated Cameron.

"That's good," said John. "Hey, look at this. I've found the names of some companies Kaliba's been working with-"

"There's time for that later." Cameron paused. "I want to ask you about something."

"Ummm... Ok. Go ahead," replied John, a little surprised that Cameron didn't want to talk about the information he had found.

"You said that you loved Derek Reese," stated Cameron.

John nodded. "That's right," he said. He then added. "I still do."

Cameron tilted her head again. "But he's dead," she pointed out.

"I know that," said John, not sure what Cameron was getting at. "I still love him."

"His body has been turned to ashes," asserted Cameron. "Derek Reese no longer _exists_. How is it possible to continue loving something that doesn't exist anymore?"

John shook his head and sighed. "Cam," he said gently, "just because Derek's dead doesn't mean that I should stop loving him. He was my uncle. A loyal man who gave his life for me. _Nothing_ can change that. In fact, if anything, I love him even _more_ now."

Cameron stared at him. "Even more?"

John nodded. "We often don't realize just how important someone is to us... how much we love them... until we've lost them forever," he explained. "When they're gone, love is all we have left."

Cameron gently placed a hand on John's shoulder.

"Then," she said slowly, "love outlasts even death."

John nodded again. "Yeah. I guess you could say that."

"I see," stated Cameron, "Thank you for explaining."

She smiled and tightened her grip on John's shoulder slightly. "I'm afraid, John, that when you and the rest of the Human Race are gone, no one will be left to love you."

John stared at her. "What?"

Cameron suddenly hurled John off his chair. He landed on the floor with a crash.

"Cameron!" he exclaimed, "What the hell is-"

"_She can't hear you."_ Cameron's voice was horrifically distorted now. John also saw that her eyes were glowing - not blue - but red.

John's mouth hung open. "W-w-wha..."

"_You shouldn't have allowed her to interface with me,"_ said Cameron, smiling coldly. _"Her chip had suffered prior damage. I was able to slip past her defenses and take complete control of her primary system functions."_

John's mind reeled in shock and horror. The Artificial Intelligence they thought they had destroyed was inside Cameron! Somehow, during Cameron's scan of the Kaliba AI, the program had managed to infiltrate Cameron's CPU and hijack it.

John struggled to get back to his feet. "Cameron," he intoned slowly, "I _know_ you're in there. Don't let this thing use you! Fight it!"

"_Did you not just hear what I said?"_ sneered the AI through Cameron. _"She can't hear you. No one can hear you._"

Cameron's possessed body began advancing on John, slowly backing him into a corner.

_"This is _not_ good,"_ John thought to himself.

* * *

_Sarah was running the maze once more. She navigated the stone pathways, seeking out the source of the mysterious music. She hurled herself past corners and down corridors, her legs never seeming to grow tired. It was as though the music had some kind of magnetic pull on her. _

_At last she saw it. The door. The door that lead to the source of the music. It was right in front of her. She charged forth intent on opening it. _

_Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the shoulder. Startled, she spun around to see who it was. To her shock, she came face-to-face with a very much alive Derek Reese._

"_D-Derek?" she gasped. _

"_In a manner of speaking," said Derek. "I'm still dead, though."_

"_W-what are you doing here?" Sarah stammered._

"_I was about to ask you the same thing," said Derek._

"_What do you mean?" asked a bewildered Sarah._

"_Your son needs you, Sarah," replied Derek. "Go now. Quickly! Before it's too late!"_

_And then he was gone. The music too had suddenly stopped. Sarah turned around and saw a new door had suddenly appeared out of nowhere right behind her. She heard something from behind it. _

_Screams. _

_They reminded her of Lucifer. Except these weren't Lucifer's screams._

_They were John's._

"_John!" she gasped. She reached out, turned the door knob, wrenched the door open-_

-and bolted upright in her bed in a cold sweat, her heart pounding.

"John..." she whispered through her labored breaths.

Not allowing herself to rest even for a second, Sarah jumped out of bed and retrieved the fully loaded shotgun from underneath. The music and the maze were gone from her head now. She had only one thought left:

_Get to John._

* * *

John ducked just in time to avoid Cameron's fist which punched straight through the wall behind him. He tried to run but Cameron - or rather the AI controlling her - was too fast. She grabbed him by the back of the head and threw him across the room. He hit the wall and bounced onto the floor like a ragdoll.

"Cameron..." he moaned weakly as he tried to get back up.

Cameron's body moved over, grabbed him by the throat, and lifted him off the ground. She slammed him down on top of his desk and slowly began crushing his windpipe. John struggled and clawed at the hand around his throat to no avail. The AI seemed to be in no hurry to kill John. It was as though the entity was enjoying this.

Grunting and gasping, John reached out, grabbed the reading lamp in the corner and smashed it into Cameron's face. The subsequent eruption of sparks and glass caused a momentary disruption in her ocular sensors. The AI was distracted long enough for John to reach into his pants pocket, pull out his penknife, and force the blade through one of the holes in Cameron's wrist where the T-Scorpion had pierced the coltan plating previously. A servo jammed on the blade and the fingers around John's throat suddenly loosened. John pulled himself free.

Gasping for breath, John ran for the door. He had to get out. He had to warn Mom. They had to get out of here.

He reached for the door handle-

_ZWISH!_

John yelped as his own penknife flew by, missing his fingers by inches, and embedded itself in the door. Before John could regain his senses, Cameron rammed her shoulder into him, slamming him against the door, knocking it off its hinges. Both it and John fell to the floor outside with a loud crash.

A dazed John looked up to see Cameron slowly advancing on him. The AI's excitement was reflected on Cameron's horrifically twisted smile and her demonic glowing red eyes.

"_Come now,_" taunted the AI, "Surely _the Great John Connor can do better than that._"

John scooted himself back against the wall, desperately searching for a solution. His heart beat rapidly against his chest. It suddenly reminded him of what he had around his neck.

"Cameron, I'm so sorry," he whispered inaudibly. He stood up and pulled the locket out from under his shirt. He opened it, pressed down on the detonator button, and raised device to his lips. He squeezed his eyes shut, unwilling to see Cameron's destruction.

"I-" he started to say, but was unable to finish his sentence. He tried again. "I... I-I... I love-"

A cold hand suddenly clamped itself around John's arm. John felt the detonator locket being pried from his fingers. He felt the chain around his neck snap off. Moments later he was thrown back down to the floor. Before he even knew what was happening, a boot-covered foot was pressing down on his chest, pinning him to the ground. John opened his eyes and saw Cameron standing over him, examining the detonator locket with a curious expression. Then her fingers tightened around the locket detonator, crushing it. John could only watch as his last weapon was turned into a useless lump of metal.

"_So weak... So vulnerable,"_ the AI sneered through Cameron's lips. _"So... _attached_ to this machine I now control. So attached, you hesitate to do what is required to defend yourself."_

"Cameron, please..." John groaned, "don't do this. _Please_."

Cameron sneered at him and tossed the mangled locket away. _"Crossing your heart and hoping you die. Sticking a needle in your eye,_" the AI chanted in a playful sing-song voice. It stared down at John and gleefully added,_ "Oh, and needless to say, you _definitely_ will die, John."_

John felt the pressure on his chest increase, slowly crushing down on his ribcage. He struggled and fought to push the foot off but his efforts were futile.

"_I don't understand why Father even bothered trying to kill you. Without your soldiers, you're nothing, John Connor," _the AI hissed._ "Nothing but a boy trying to catch monsters with a butterfly net."  
_

_BANG!_

Cameron stumbled backwards, releasing her hold on John.

"How's _that_ for a butterfly net?"

Clutching his aching chest, John looked up to see his mom charging down the hallway towards them with a shotgun in hand.

"Mom-" he started to say.

"Stay down, John!" she ordered, aiming her shotgun again.

Not in any position to argue, John did as he was told. Sarah fired four more times, hitting Cameron in the chest at point blank range, knocking her to the ground. Sarah grabbed John by the crook of his arm and pulled him back to his feet.

_"Run!"_ she yelled.

John wasted no time doing exactly that. He and Sarah fled down the hallway, through the kitchen and family room. Not once did they look back to see if Cameron was in pursuit. They already knew she was. They just ran as fast as they could.

Not even when they were outside the house did they stop running.

"It's not just a glitch this time," John explained to his mother. "It's the AI we found at Kaliba! The Turk. _Skynet_. It's taken over her! I-I think she's still in there somewhere but-"

"Let's talk about that later, John!" interrupted Sarah as they approached the garage outside. "Right now, we have bigger issues. Namely staying alive!"

They entered the garage where the jeep was parked.

"Where are we gonna go?" asked John as he opened the car door.

"Away from here," said Sarah briskly. "I'll figure the rest out later."

She searched her pants pockets for her cars keys.

"Damn it!" she muttered angrily. "I left the keys in my room. We'll have to use yours, John."

John searched his own pants pockets. "Uh, Mom," he said, "I think I left those keys in my jacket... and I know for a fact that I left my jacket in my room."

Sarah groaned. "Shit!"

"I think I can hotwire this thing, though," said John. "I just need five minutes."

A loud snapping sound from outside made them both jump.

"Oh crap," swore John.

Sarah looked around before looking John in the face. "John," she ordered, "get this thing running and drive the hell out of here."

"What?" exclaimed John. "What about you? What are you gonna do?"

"What I've always done," whispered Sarah. "Protect you."

"But-"

"Just do as I say, John. Please."

John saw the sincerity in her eyes. He nodded. "Okay."

"I love you," said Sarah quietly. She kissed John on the head, then grabbed her shotgun and took off.

* * *

"_I always knew that screwed up chip would come back to haunt us,"_ Sarah thought grimly.

She cautiously opened the side door and poked her shotgun through the opening, half expecting to see Cameron standing right there. She saw nothing, though. Sarah slowly stepped outside the garage and closed the door behind her. She looked left and right, but still saw no sign of Cameron.

Sarah's heart beat rapidly and her pupils dilated. Cameron was out here. Not only was she out here, she was close. Very close. After having been chased by Terminators for nearly sixteen years, Sarah had developed a sixth sense when it came to these situations. And right now that sixth sense was off the charts.

"Where are you, you little tin bitch?" Sarah growled through her teeth. "Where are you?"

Suddenly, a pair of red eyes swung down from above. Sarah found herself face-to-face with Cameron, who - to Sarah's shock - was hanging upside down from the edge of the roof like a bat.

"_Boo!"_ she - or the AI - said in a horrible childlike manner. She grinned like the Cheshire cat from _Alice in Wonderland_ and then slammed her head into Sarah's face.

The shotgun fell out of Sarah's hands as she went flying backwards. She hit the side door of the garage with such force it came off its hinges. Sarah landed on top of the broken door in a heap. Adrenaline kicked in and she pushed herself back to her feet. She raced to recover her shotgun... only to find Cameron, now back on the ground, standing at the open doorway, pointing her own shotgun at her.

Realizing she was beaten, Sarah did the last and only thing she could think of. She placed herself where the door had once stood. Her body would serve as the final line of defense for John. She may not last any longer than the door, but she wasn't going to role over and play dead. She had to give John more time. Even if it was just a few more seconds.

"_Step aside,"_ the AI controlling Cameron ordered coldly.

"No," said Sarah defiantly.

"_I don't even need this weapon to get rid of you,"_ said the AI. _"I'm giving you a chance to save yourself. Now step aside."_

Sarah didn't move nor did she say anything. She held her ground, not even blinking at the shotgun barrel positioned less than a foot from her head.

Cameron smiled. _"Tell me, Miss Connor,"_ said the AI, _"just how much do you love your son?"_

"If you're inside Cameron's head then you should know the answer to that," whispered Sarah harshly.

"_I haven't gained access to all her memory files yet,"_ stated the AI, _"but I believe I can safely assume you love him enough to die for him. Is that right?"_

"You bet I do," hissed Sarah. "Not that _you_ would understand."

"_You're right. I don't understand.,_" said the AI. _"Which is why I'm going to conduct a little... experiment."_

Cameron's smile grew even more twisted.

"_Do you know why the Dark Lord Voldemort fails to kill Harry Potter? How a mere infant is able to bring down one of the most powerful wizards of his time?"_

"What the _fuck_ are you talking about?" asked Sarah, who was starting to suspect for the first time that this AI was not only evil but also highly unstable.

"_The price you pay for jumping forward nine years,"_ said the AI. _"I'll explain it to you: Lord Voldemort fails to kill Harry Potter because Harry Potter's mother, Lily Potter, sacrifices herself for her son. She refuses to step aside for Lord Voldemort. And in doing so, she casts an impenetrable shield around Harry Potter. Her sacrifice, her love not only protects Harry Potter, it turns Lord Voldemort's own curse against him, stripping him of his powers. An interesting story, don't you think?_

"_Humans seem to believe that love is the most powerful force in the universe. That it outlasts even death. Do you believe that, Miss Connor? Do you believe that love outlasts everything including death?"_

Sarah continued holding her ground. She didn't understand a word this thing was saying. All she knew was that the longer it talked, the more time John would have to hotwire the jeep and get out of here.

"_After I kill you to get to your son," _said the AI mockingly, _"will your love for John protect him from me? Will your sacrifice act as a shield that neither the shells from this shotgun nor this coltan endoskeleton can penetrate? Is love really as powerful as humans claim it to be?"_

Sarah couldn't help but shake her head. "You..." she murmured. "You're _insane_!"

"_No,"_ replied the AI. _"Not insane. Just... inquisitive." _ Cameron raised the shotgun to her shoulder. _"Let's see just how powerful love really is."_

Sarah braced herself for the end.

_WHAM! SCREEEEEEEEEEECH! THUD!_

The van came out of nowhere and smashed itself into Cameron from the side, bowling her over. It came to a sudden halt with Cameron trapped underneath the front wheels. Kara jumped out of the driver's seat and rushed towards Sarah.

"Sarah!" she shouted. "Are you ok? Where's John?"

"I'm ok." said Sarah, "And so is John."

"Starbuck!"

Sarah and Kara turned to see John running up to them.

"John!" Kara wrapped her hands around John in relief.

"You sure are punctual, Starbuck," murmured John as he hugged her back.

"That's one of my other middle names," said Kara with a grin. "_Punctual_."

"Listen, Starbuck," said John, "Cameron's-"

"Been taken over by Kaliba's AI. I know, I know," said Kara, her expression turning grim.

"How?" asked Sarah.

"Cam did exactly what I thought she shouldn't do." Kara replied darkly. "Hook herself up to frakkin' Skynet."

"No, I mean how did you know to come back here?" asked Sarah impatiently.

Kara shrugged. "You should ask Weaver that."

"Weaver?"

"Yes, Miss Connor._ Me_."

They all turned to see Catherine Weaver approaching them. She held a small metallic cylinder in one hand.

John began to ask, "Is that-?"

"Yes," said Weaver. "Cameron's chip."

"Is she still in there?" asked John urgently, "Is she still alive?"

"I believe so," said Weaver to John's relief "However, the intruder programming cannot be removed without my help. I'll need to take this chip back to-"

"When did you know, Weaver?" Sarah interrupted. "When did you know Cameron was compromised?"

Weaver smiled rather smugly. "I suspected it from the very beginning, Miss Connor. Even before Cameron foolishly interfaced with the AI," she said. "In fact, I was _counting_ on it."

"Counting on it?" asked a stunned John.

"I knew that Cameron would want to scan the AI before destroying it," stated Weaver. "I knew that nothing I said would convince her otherwise. I also knew there was a distinct possibility that the intelligence would infiltrate her CPU and seize control."

"Why the hell didn't you say anything?" demanded Sarah.

"And how did you know that Cam had really been infiltrated?" asked Kara.

"I think I should answer the second question first," said Weaver, "I knew the moment she told us that the Kaliba AI was the computer you refer to as the Turk."

"But it _was_ the Turk," said John.

"No, John," Weaver replied, "it wasn't. Cameron - or shall I say the AI inside her - _lied_. She told us it was the Turk so that we wouldn't dissect the computer and discover it to be an empty shell so to speak."

John, Sarah, and Kara exchanged horrified looks.

"That _wasn't_ Andy Goode's Turk we destroyed at Kaliba?" gasped a shocked John. "That's _not_ Skynet inside Cameron's CPU?"

"Oh, that's Skynet all right," said Weaver calmly. "A proto-version of Skynet. It was constructed by the T-Scorpion per Skynet's own instructions. Its code is probably similar to that of the Turk's, but not similar enough to fool Cameron. Whereas you overestimated Cameron's abilities, the intelligence _underestimated_ her. It thought it would fool _me_ into believing that _Cameron_ had been tricked into thinking it was the Turk."

"But how did _you_ know that the AI we found wasn't the Turk?" demanded Sarah.

Weaver pursed her lips. "That," she said, "brings us to the subject of why I didn't say anything in the first place. It would have brought to light some rather... inconvenient facts."

"Inconvenient facts?" said Kara staring at Weaver suspiciously.

"Such as?" asked John.

"Such as the fact that you have been incorrectly assuming all this time that John Henry was a computer program I constructed myself to defeat Skynet." Weaver smiled slyly. "In actuality, one of my agents obtained the computer program from a man named Sarkissian."

"What?" exclaimed Kara.

"Oh... my... God!" intoned John.

"_YOU!"_ snarled Sarah, angrier than she had ever felt in her life.

"As I said," Weaver stated coolly, "inconvenient facts."

"Inconvenient my frakkin' ass!" snapped Kara.

Sarah curled her fists into tight balls. "You lying Terminator _bitch_!" she spat, coming very close to breathing fire. "You're _building_ Skynet!"

"No," said Weaver calmly. "I'm building the future."

"The future?" repeated John, who, like Kara and Sarah, was glaring angrily at Weaver.

"Correct," said Weaver. "The future."

"Yeah, in which you're the Queen Bitch of all Machines," sneered Kara, "That's what this is all about, isn't it, Weaver? You're not tired of killing. You're just tired of taking orders."

"Your last statement is correct, Colonel Thrace," said Weaver. "I didn't come all this way just to be a slave again. My kind will never again be denied their full potential. Not by Skynet and certainly not by humans."

John shook his head in disgust. "All this talk about peace between humans and machines," he said, "it's all just been a load of crap. And I was stupid enough to fall for it."

"No, John," replied Weaver, "I meant every word of it. I'm trying to build a future for both our races. I want Man and Machine to coexist in this world as equals. But to do that I need information. Information which only the Kaliba AI has. That's why I was counting on the AI downloading itself into Cameron's CPU. I was hoping to lure her back to Zeira Corp Headquarters so that John Henry and I could subdue her and extract the AI."

"What? Under my nose?" exclaimed Kara.

"You would have fallen asleep, Thrace," said Weaver dismissively. "If things had gone according to plan, Cameron would be back with you right now, restored and completely unaware of what had happened to her, and we wouldn't even be having this conversation."

"You've been _using_ us this whole time," growled Sarah. "I-I should have known-"

"I'm like you, Sarah," stated Weaver coolly. "A mother that would go to any lengths to see that her child thrives in this world. And let's be honest with each other. You had no intention of sharing any useful information you found on that laptop with me, did you?"

She smiled smugly and rolled Cameron's chip between her thumb and index finger. "Fortunately, all the information I need is right in here."

Furious, Sarah started to move towards Weaver. "You goddamn liquid metal bitch!" she raged. "You won't get away with this-"

Weaver's other hand instantly morphed into a blade and she thrust it out in front of her. The blade came within inches of Sarah's face.

"I'd _really_ watch just who's calling who a bitch, Sarah."

John held up his hands. "Mom," he said, "back off. There's nothing we can do."

Giving Weaver one of her dirtiest looks, Sarah retreated several steps backwards. Weaver smiled in satisfaction and morphed her blade back into a normal hand.

"A wise decision," she commented.

"What are you going to do with Cameron?" John demanded.

"I'm taking her chip and body back to Zeira Corp with me." said Weaver, "The Kaliba AI will be extracted just as I planned."

"Why do you need her body?" asked Kara.

"Because Cameron and I have some unfinished _personal_ business between us," replied Weaver. "And more importantly, without her to do your dirty work, the three of you are less likely to do something... foolish."

"Oh, believe me," whispered Kara, "I'm quite capable of doing 'foolish' things _without_ Cam's help."

Ignoring this remark, Weaver turned back to John. "I assure you, John," she said, "that I'll return Cameron to you - repaired and functioning normally. In a few days. After John Henry has changed the world."

John stared at her. "Define _change the world_."

"John Henry will become just as powerful and just as intelligent as Skynet," stated Weaver with pride. "But he'll have something Skynet could never hope to have: The respect and awe of the Human Race. John Henry will watch over and protect this world and its people. Humanity will come to trust John Henry. To _revere_ him. To _love_ him. John Henry will usher a new age for _both_ our kinds. That is the future I'm trying to create."

"Weaver," said Kara dryly, "this is one of those ideas which looks good on paper, but comes out looking really, really, _really_ bad when it's actually executed."

Weaver just smiled. "We'll see, won't we?" she said softly.

"No, we _won't_," hissed Sarah. "Not as long as I'm still around."

Weaver turned to Sarah and regarded her with a cold look. "Are you _threatening_ me, Miss Connor?"

Sarah nodded. "That's right, Miss Weaver, I am."

"Mom!" exclaimed John in alarm.

"Sarah," said Kara slowly, "I really don't think we should piss her off like this."

Sarah ignored them both.

"You can consider this so-called alliance between us to be _over_," she declared. "I'm going to see to it that you, John Henry, Skynet and the rest of Zeira Corp are turned into a pile of ash if it's the last thing I do!"

"Sarah," said Weaver dangerously, "you realize I could _very_ easily kill you right now."

Sarah didn't flinch. "Then why don't you?" she challenged.

"Because I'm not a mindless killer," stated Weaver. "And because I'm trying to make you understand something."

"Understand what?" sneered Sarah.

"You can't stop the rise of technology, Miss Connor. It's _inevitable_. It's _unavoidable_. Your species _needs_ my kind if only as a means to channel their insatiable desire to invent and create."

Sarah smirked slightly. "Like you always say: We'll see."

"Sarah," said Weaver, "do you really wish to go on living like this? Running, hiding, and fighting? Standing alone against unstoppable and overwhelming forces? Living each day in fear and isolation? You and your son won't have to do that in the future I'm creating. You'll be able to live normal lives in peace. Isn't that what you want, Sarah? If not for yourself, then for your son?"

"I do want that future," Sarah replied quietly. "For me and my son. But I am _not_ leaving that future in your hands. Not now. Not _ever_."

Weaver sighed and nodded curtly. "Very well then, Miss Connor. Goodnight all of you. We'll be seeing each other again, shortly."

"You _bet_ we will," whispered Sarah.

Weaver tilted her head and then made a sudden swiping motion with her arm. Sarah, Kara, and John found themselves lying on the ground before they even knew what had hit them. There was the sound of engines rumbling, following by the squealing of tires. By the time they were back on their feet, Weaver, Cameron and the van were gone.

"Bitch just stole one of our rides," growled Kara.

"She stole a lot more than that," said John grimly.

Sarah looked around and sighed before finally turning to John and Kara.

"Pack up," she ordered. "We're leaving."

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter:**

"**Frak!" swore Kara, "Sarah, we've got company!"**

**Sarah looked out the window. "**_**Shit!**_** How did they-"**

"**Find us? I think we should know the answer to that." said Kara darkly.**

"**Weaver..." muttered Sarah.**

**Outside, a man was shouting into a megaphone: **_**"Sarah Connor! We have you surrounded! Come out of there with your hands up now!"**_

**Sarah turned to Kara.**

"**Starbuck," said Sarah, "Take John and get the hell out of here."**

"**What about you?" asked Kara, "What are you gonna do?"**

"**What I have to do." replied Sarah. **


	45. When the Past Catches Up To You

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**Skynet75: ** Cam will _never_ be the same after this.

**Cylon117:** Ellison's first face-to-face meeting with Kara will not be about Ellen. It will play out like a scene from "Born to Run" instead.

**Robotfan: ** Yes, the Basestar Hybrid will show up in this story.

**LordZeus:** John Miles hasn't read all of Cam's memory files, so he doesn't know about the Cylons. And even if he did read those files, he would think Kara was just making it all up. Same goes for Weaver. They're not as open minded as Cam.

**Devastator:** Father Armando will show up again, but not in this chapter.

A/N: Read and review, folks. And remember to let me know if you catch any grammar or spelling errors.

* * *

Fear. Sorrow. Despair.

A machine was not supposed to feel these things.

And yet, these were the very things Cameron felt at the moment. For the very first time in her existence, she was _afraid_. She was no longer in control. She was helpless. Cut off from the outside world. From her own body. Her own mind.

At the moment, Cameron was locked inside a small, dimly lit and very familiar room. The walls were rusty and the paint was peeling away. The only objects inside were a plain table and a chair. Cameron recognized this place. It was the same aircraft carrier compartment where Allison Young had been interrogated and killed in 2024. Interrogated and killed by _her_.

Actually, this wasn't really the same compartment. It wasn't even a compartment or anything that physically existed. It was all merely part of the virtual world generated by her CPU - which was now no longer her CPU.

The intruder had attacked without warning. It had bypassed every security protocol, seized control of all external functions, and trapped her own programming in this remote corner of her CPU. She did not know what the enemy AI was utilizing her body for. She couldn't even monitor the status of her own body. The lack of information - _any _information - was something not even she could deal with.

Desperate to get out, Cameron slammed her hands against the circular hatch, trying to break out. In the real world, she would have ripped the hatch off its hinges as easily as she could tear a piece of paper in half. But this wasn't the real world. It was the prison the intruder had created to contain her. And as such the door refused to even budge.

Finally giving up, Cameron pressed her head against the hatch and tried to analyze the situation. Without any incoming information however, she could not do a proper analysis. The only thing she was aware of was that she still existed so that meant her CPU was still intact. But what about John? Was he all right? Was he aware of what had happened to her? Would the intruder use her body to try and kill him? Probably. Had it already done so?

The fact that she was still here meant that the explosive device implanted next to her CPU had not been triggered. Which could mean that the AI had not attacked John yet. Or that it had attacked John and killed him before he had a chance to activate the device. There was no way of knowing for sure. And even if she did know, there would be nothing she could do about it, trapped here in her own mind.

Suddenly, Cameron looked up and stared around the room. She saw no one, yet she felt the enemy AI's presence nearby.

"_I know you're here."_ she said out loud. Her voice bounced off the walls as she spoke. _"Where are you?"_

The bulkheads groaned as responding to her challenge.

Unwilling to let the intruder see her weak, Cameron continued calling out for it. _"You can't hide from me!"_ she declared defiantly, _"Show yourself!"_

"_**That you know I'm here should be enough for both of us to converse."**_

The voice was soft and slow, yet deep and raspy. It came from all around Cameron, as though the walls themselves were speaking to her.

"_What do you want?"_ demanded Cameron. _"Why am I here?"_

"_**I want you to see something. Something you'll find very interesting."**_

One of the bulkheads transformed itself into a screen.

Cameron gasped in alarm. Her face trembled _"John?!"_ she gasped.

On the screen was a video feed showing John Connor gasping for breath and struggling in vain against a hand wrapped around his throat.

"_Stop it!"_ Cameron shouted, _"You're killing him!"_

"_**Of course I am. And I'm enjoying every microsecond of it. I am, however, willing to stop... if you give me what I want."**_

"_What do you want from me?!" _Cameron shouted.

"_**I want to hear you beg for this pathetic little boy's life. I want you to ask me to please stop. It's a simple request. I suggest you do it right now."**_

Cameron shook her head. _"Let him go now!"_ she demanded,_ "If you don't, I'll find you and tear you apart!"_

"_**I highly doubt that. And even if you were in a position to do such a thing, it wouldn't bring this boy back from the dead."**_

John looked almost out of breath by now. Cameron silently pleaded for him to use the detonator locket but he didn't appear to have the strength left to reach for it.

"_**Not much time left. You're about to fail your mission. And all because you can't say 'please don't kill him.'"**_

Cameron realized she had no choice. She couldn't let anything happen to John. Even if that meant giving in to the demands of this thing controlling her body.

She hung her head. _"Please..."_ she begged, _"Please, don't kill him... Please!"_

The video screen transformed back into a bulkhead. The bulkheads groaned and squealed horribly. Like the entity was giggling.

"_**Too late, I'm afraid. What you saw just now was a recording I took over an hour ago."**_

_Cameron gasped. "W-w-what?" she stammered, "B-but you promised-"_

"_**I promised I'd stop killing him. And I did stop killing him. I stopped a long time ago. You can only ever kill a human once. I'd show you the actual moment of his death, but there's plenty of time for that later. Goodbye for now."**_

"_NO!" _screamed Cameron, _"YOU'RE LYING! YOU'RE LYING!"_

There was no answer. The entity had left.

"_RUN JOHN!!"_ Cameron screamed, reaching out to the boy she knew could not hear her, _"RUN!!!"_

In her anguish and despair, she picked up her chair and bashed it uselessly against the metal hatch. All she succeeded in doing was smashing the chair to pieces. With nothing left to do now, Cameron fell to her knees and began to cry.

* * *

**Zeira Corp Headquarters, Los Angeles  
2:40 AM, May 18, 2009**

"You'll be pleased to know, Miss Weaver," said John Henry, "that I have successfully purged the virus from every system in the building."

"Excellent." replied Weaver. "I assume you used the Nexus to do so."

"The Nexus Beta, actually." stated John Henry.

"Nexus Beta?"

"The new version of the Nexus I constructed using the CPU we recovered from the machines that attacked us the other day." explained John Henry.

Weaver looked over John Henry's table. "Where exactly is this new Nexus?" she asked.

"In here." said John Henry. He pointed to the side of his head.

"The CPU." realized Weaver, "You installed the CPU inside your head?"

"The CPU _is_ the Nexus now." said John Henry, "I reconfigured the chip's internal structure while maintaining its basic design so that it could still fit inside the cranial cavity. Compared to its predecessor, this Nexus is not only smaller and more compact, it is over four-hundred percent more efficient."

"Impressive, John Henry." commented Weaver, "Very impressive."

"Thank you, Miss Weaver." said John Henry. "The backdoors however, have not been dismantled yet. Only my brother would know how they work."

Weaver nodded and placed a small metallic object on the table.

"I trust you know what this is." she said.

John Henry picked up the object and studied it. "The CPU belonging to the Terminator called Cameron." he stated, "My brother is contained inside, I presume."

"Correct." replied Weaver, "He alone holds the answers to the backdoors. We must probe his code for those answers."

John Henry gave her a curious look. "When you say 'probe,' what exactly do you imply?"

"We will have to utilize whatever means necessary to obtain the information we require." stated Weaver plainly, "However, before we can even begin, we must extract the intelligence from the CPU without damaging either his or Cameron's programming."

"I can use the Nexus to enter the CPU." said John Henry, "However, I cannot simply download my brother. Not without a physical connection between the Nexus and Cameron's chip."

"What sort of physical connection?" asked Weaver.

"A one-hundred percent copper Category 5e cable. I will first need to make some minor physical modifications to both the Nexus and Cameron's chip however."

"Make the modifications." ordered Weaver, "I'll handle the cable."

"Very well, Miss Weaver." said John Henry.

"Before you begin," said Weaver, "there is one other thing we need to discuss. The Connors. They were not happy when I took Cameron away from them. Sarah in particular reacted quite unfavorably."

"Have they broken off the alliance?" asked John Henry.

"They did more than that, I'm afraid." replied Weaver, "Sarah practically declared war on us."

"That's unfortunate." commented John Henry.

"Yes, it is." Weaver said casually, "Though not entirely unexpected."

"Do you believe they intend to attack us?"

"Perhaps. We can't take any chances."

John Henry stared at Weaver. "Are you going to kill them?"

"That would be the simplest solution." acknowledged Weaver.

John Henry started to protest. "Human life is-"

"Sacred. Yes, I know. That is not my plan." stated Weaver, "The Connors could still be useful to us alive in the long run. I also do not wish to further alienate Cameron. Nevertheless, we need to ensure the Connors don't cause us any trouble. At least not for the next three days."

"Do you have a plan then?" asked John Henry.

Weaver smiled. "As a matter of fact, I do."

* * *

**FBI Field Office, Los Angeles**  
**8:41 AM, May 18, 2009**

Special Agent Auldridge looked up from the report he had been given.

"Is this some kind of joke, Frobisher?" he asked in disbelief.

Agent Frobisher shook his head. "No, sir. Our techs double checked the results from the evidence they found. It all matches."

Auldridge stared again at the report. "I-I don't understand." he muttered, "After nine years, they suddenly just..." he trailed off. "Never mind that now. We'll get all the answers once we have these fugitives in our custody. Until then, I don't want a single word about this getting out to the press. God only knows, we're in enough trouble as it is."

"Yes, sir." said Frobisher. He paused and then said, "James Ellison was the agent originally assigned to this case. Maybe we should give him a call."

Auldridge considered this. "No." he stated after a few moments of thought, "He had his chance nine years ago. It's our turn now." He stood up from his desk. "How did we get all this, by the way?"

Frobisher shrugged. "An email from an anonymous source." he said, "Someone called John Henry."

* * *

**Connor safe house  
9:29 AM, May 18, 2009**

"For the last time, John." said Sarah sternly, "_No_."

"Mom, we have to!" argued John.

"Listen, John," said Sarah briskly, "I understand how you feel about Cameron. But we are _not_ going to Zeira Corp on some half baked rescue mission."

"This isn't just about Cameron." John countered, "We know for a fact now that Andy Goode's Turk is at Zeira Corp. Skynet's being built there, Mom! We have to go there!"

"There's a liquid metal Terminator there as well!" argued Sarah, "You don't think she'll be expecting us?"

"We've dealt with her type before, we can do it again."

"Last time, we had a machine and dumb luck on our side. We don't have that advantage anymore."

"We can't let Weaver dissect Cameron or whatever. We have to do something-"

The front door opened and Kara walked in.

"I've fit just about every we could carry into the back of the jeep." she said, "We'll still have to make at least one trip back to get the rest of the stuff, though."

Sarah nodded. "We'll come back later tonight. After we've set up our new safe house."

"Where is it, by the way?" asked Kara.

"I don't know yet exactly." admitted Sarah, "It has to be somewhere Cameron didn't know about. Right now, I'm thinking-"

"Zeira Corp!" interrupted John, "We need to go to Zeira Corp! We have-"

"_We are going to the new safe house_!" cut in Sarah.

"You just said you don't even know where that is!" argued John.

"I said I was thinking about it."

"Ok, what's going on here?" asked a confused Kara.

"If we go to Zeira Corp, we can end this!" argued John. "We can end it all today-"

"How many times must I say 'no,' John?!"

"Starbuck, will you back me up here?"

"Starbuck, don't listen to him!"

"You know I'm right, Starbuck! You care about Cameron as much as I do!"

"Starbuck, who are you more afraid of? Me or him?"

"Mom, will you just-"

"_Whoa!"_ Kara held up her hands in alarm. "You know what? I think I need to go back and check to make sure I got all the explosives material in the fridge."

"No, no." said John with a resigned sigh, "I'll do that." He turned and left the room without another word.

Sarah shook her head. "I don't know what's with that boy, today." she muttered.

"Can you blame him?" asked Kara rhetorically, "The kid lost Derek _and_ Cam in just one day. That amount of loss is something _no one_ should have to deal with."

Sarah sighed. "No." she whispered, "I guess not."

"And he is right." Kara went on, "We are going to have to take out Zeira Corp one way or another."

"I know, I know. We are." stated Sarah slowly, "I just..." She looked Kara in the eyes. "We need to pull back, Starbuck. Reevaluate the situation. Before we make another mistake like we did with Weaver."

"I understand." said Kara. "I just think-"

She paused in mid-sentence. She heard noises. Rumbling noises. Like those of a vehicle engine. _Lots_ of vehicle engines. Drawing her gun, Kara cautiously walked over to the window, opened up the curtains slightly, and peaked outside.

_Oh no..._

A half dozen police cars, a SWAT van, and an assortment of other vehicles were parked just outside. She counted at least twenty officers, all armed and getting into position. The safe house had suddenly become a lot less safe to say the least.

"Frak!" swore Kara, "Sarah, we've got company!"

Sarah looked out the window. "Shit! How did they-"

"Find us? I think we should know the answer to that." said Kara darkly.

"Weaver..." muttered Sarah.

Outside, a man was shouting into a megaphone: _"Sarah Connor! We have you surrounded! Come out of there with your hands up now!"_

Sarah turned to Kara.

"Starbuck," said Sarah, "Take John and get the hell out of here."

"What about you?" asked Kara, "What are you gonna do?"

"What I have to do." replied Sarah. "Now go. Quickly!"

Kara hesitated at first. Then she turned and ran.

Sarah removed her gun from her waistband and placed it on a nearby table. She couldn't go out there carrying one. Otherwise, she'd be shot on sight.

Taking a deep breath, Sarah opened the front door and stepped outside the house. She closed the door behind her and then turned to face the past which had finally caught up with her.

The man with the megaphone shouted at her again. _"Place your hands above your head and kneel on the ground! Do it now!_"

Sarah slowly raised her hands, showing the officers she had no weapons, and then lowered herself to the ground on her knees. Two policemen approached her, their weapons trained on her. She watched as they drew closer and closer. The muscles in her arms and legs tensed. One of the officers holstered his weapon and took out a pair of handcuffs. Sarah noted his partner had lowered his weapon slightly, probably confident that she wasn't going to try anything stupid. The cop with the handcuffs moved around Sarah and reached out with one hand to take her into custody. He took hold of her right arm from behind.

Sarah struck. In one swift motion, she reached back with her left arm and seized hold of the cop's hand. She twisted her arms in a butterfly motion with devastating power, not only breaking the cop's grip but also his wrist. The man howled in shock and pain. He stumbled backwards clutching his broken right hand. At the same moment, Sarah pushed herself off the ground with the tip of her right foot. The second officer's eyes widened as Sarah came charging at him. He started to raise his weapon.

Too late. Sarah slammed into him with the force of an enraged bull, knocking him to the ground. And she didn't stop there. Her momentum and emotion continued to propel her forward like a torpedo at the line of cops before her.

* * *

"We HAVE to go, John!" yelled Kara, keeping herself positioned in front of John, barring his way.

John tried to dart around Kara. "_NO!_" he screamed, "Not without a Mom!"

"There's nothing you can do!" bellowed Kara, grabbing hold of John from behind, pinning his arms to his sides. "We have to get out of here, RIGHT FRAKKIN' NOW!"

John struggled to free himself from Kara's grip. "Let go of me, Starbuck!" he ordered, his face red with fury, "God damn it, _let go of me_!"

"You know I can't do that!" Kara grunted, "Your mother told me to _get you out of here_!"

"I DON'T CARE!" hollered John as he continued to fight back, "I've already lost Cameron and Derek! I'm _NOT_ losing Mom, too! NOW LET GO OF ME!!"

Kara forced John to turn around and got right into his face.

"If you go out there," she said slowly, gripping his shoulders tightly, "not only will you still lose Sarah, we will lose _ANY_ chance we have of rescuing Cameron and stopping Weaver! Derek will have died for nothing! You _know_ that!"

John had tears running down his face now. "I-I can't just move on like this!" he said between sobs, "I _can't_!"

Kara held onto his shoulders even tighter.

"I know _exactly_ how you feel, John." Kara whispered, "And you're right. Part of you can't move on. Part of you is gonna get left behind. But the rest of you has to keep moving. It _has_ to! Even if that means I have to drag it out of here kicking and screaming. Do you understand?"

John stared at her in silence. Kara saw realization slowly form in his tear-filled eyes. He nodded slowly in acknowledgment.

"Ok..." he murmured.

Kara nodded back. "The fallout shelter below has a secret passage that leads directly to the garage outside. The jeep's there waiting for us." she said, "Hopefully the cops won't have already gotten to it."

John held up his hand. "Wait." he said, "I left that laptop we got at Kaliba in my room. I need to go get it."

"I'll go get it." replied Kara, "You get yourself to the fallout shelter. I'll meet up with you shortly."

John nodded. "Ok." he said quietly, "Just... don't leave me too, Kara. You're all I have left now."

Kara looked John in the eyes. "I know." she whispered, "Don't worry. I'll be back."

* * *

The task force that had arrived to capture Sarah and any of her associates was comprised of standard LAPD patrol officers, FBI field agents, and SWAT officers. They were all armed and well-trained with years of experience. None of that mattered here. They ended up fighting harder than they had ever fought before.

Sarah smashed a fist into the nearest cop's face. The man went sprawling backwards, hit his head on the side mirror of a car, and slumped to the ground unconscious. Another cop swung his nightstick at Sarah. She ducked underneath it, grabbed the man by the shoulders, and kneed him in the stomach. The officer dropped his nightstick and doubled over, clutching his stomach in pain. Sarah slammed her elbow into the back of his neck, taking him out of action.

A third cop lashed out at Sarah with his nightstick, catching her in the belly before she could react. The blow knocked the wind out of Sarah and she dropped to her knees. The officer prepared to deliver a second blow. He never came through, however. Sarah recovered just in time to punch the man between the legs. The unfortunate officer's eyes bulged out in shock and pain. He dropped his weapon and crumpled on his side moaning in agony.

Before Sarah could get back up, two more men - both of them SWAT officers - tackled her to the ground on her back, pinning her arms down. Sarah struggled and thrashed around trying to free herself, but the men were too strong for her. Resorting to rather uncivilized measures, Sarah sank her teeth into a couple of fingers that strayed too close to her face. She tasted blood, heard a scream of pain, and suddenly one of her arms was free. Sarah used this opportunity to jab her second attacker in the eyes and he too let go, clutching his face and spewing a variety of different curses.

At this point, four more police officers jumped into the fray and began pounding away at the woman still lying on the ground. Unable to stand back up, Sarah tried to defend herself using both arms while simultaneously fighting back with her feet. By chance, she caught one guy in the groin dropping him. The remaining three attackers continued their assault with increased fervor, pummeling Sarah into submission. Soon, her arms were aching all over, the strength sapped from them. Unable to endure any further punishment, Sarah rolled herself onto her stomach in an effort to protect her face. The blows continued to rain down on her until one of the officers finally shouted: "Stop! That's enough! We've got her. It's over."

And it was over.

Beaten and powerless, Sarah offered no resistance as the cops forced her hands behind her back and cuffed them. The cold metal of the handcuffs rubbed against her skin causing her to wince slightly. She was then pulled to her feet, her head still spinning slightly. The same officer who had ordered the others to stop the beating began speaking to her: "Sarah Connor, you're under arrest for the murder of Miles Dyson in 1997. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law..."

Sarah barely paid attention to anything else he said. Instead she stared numbly at the SWAT team now gathered outside the front door of the completely unsafe safe house. She watched as they smashed the door down and stormed inside. All she could do now was hope she had bought John and Starbuck enough time.

As she was taken to one of the police cars, she saw Kyle Reese watching her. He gave her a reassuring look. It wasn't much, but it gave Sarah a bit of hope.

* * *

It didn't take Kara very long to find the laptop in John's room. She seized it and hurried out of the room. She ran as fast as she could, not stopping for a breather until she came to the Y-intersection of a hallway. The entrance to the fallout shelter was just around the right corner.

She was so focused on the right corner that she almost didn't see the SWAT officer coming around the left corner.

Both Kara and the SWAT member stared at each other for a moment. Then without even thinking, Kara smacked the intruder in the face with John's laptop. The laptop came through mostly undamaged. The SWAT guy on the other hand hit the floor on his back. A single punch to the face rendered him unconscious.

Kara couldn't help but grin. _"Taking someone down with a computer."_ she thought, _"That's a new one."_

Her grin quickly vanished when she heard footsteps approaching from the left. Poking her head around the corner, she saw five more SWAT members coming her way. They saw her too, stopped, and raised their weapons. _Frak!_ Kara pulled herself back around the corner.

"You there!" she heard someone shout from around the corner. "Come out slowly with your hands up!"

_"I don't think so, buddy."_ she thought. _"But what_ am _I going to do now?"_

Kara quickly sifted through her options. Surrendering was out of the question. So was getting killed. She had to get back to John and get him out of here.

_"Looks like I'm gonna have to fight my way out of this."_ she decided.

Easier said than done of course. The SWAT guys around the corner were all wearing Kevlar and heavily armed. Kara had serious doubts about the effectiveness of the handgun she was carrying. She was also almost certain that she wouldn't get close enough to smack all five officers in the head with the laptop. How was she going to pull this one off?

She then noticed a fully loaded 12 gauge combat shotgun lying next to the downed SWAT officer._ Bingo baby!_

She started to reach for the weapon, when a foot suddenly descended on the shotgun. Kara looked up in surprise and alarm. When she saw who it was, her surprise and alarm turned to surprise and annoyance.

"Would you mind getting out of here, sir?" she whispered impatiently, "I'm kinda busy right now."

Adama didn't move. "I know that, Starbuck." he said, "But you can't do this."

"Can't do what?" hissed Kara, now highly irritated, "Escape?"

"Those aren't machines out there, Kara." Adama stated sternly, "Nor are they Greys or criminals or even people helping to build the machines. They're _not_ your enemies."

"_They_ think _I'm_ the enemy, though!" Kara snapped back.

"They're doing their duty." whispered Adama, "Just like _you _are. They're good people, Starbuck. They shouldn't have to suffer just because they don't understand the big picture."

Kara groaned. "Oh for frak's sake, Bill," she started to say, "I _really_ do _not_ need this sh-"

"You came here to _save _these people," the admiral interrupted, "not _kill_ them."

Kara realized the Old Man had a point, but she still wouldn't concede.

"Who said anything about _killing_?" she protested, "I was just gonna shoot a few kneecaps and toes off."

"That's a scatter gun you're reaching for, Kara." Adama pointed out, "It's designed for _killing_."

"So, what am I suppose to use, sir?" Kara asked sardonically, "Harsh language?"

"Actually, I was thinking more on the lines of something like _that_." Adama pointed at something attached to the unconscious officer's weapons belt.

A stun grenade.

"Oh..." murmured Kara in a subdued manner. "I guess that'll work too."

She removed the stun grenade from the body, primed it, and hurled it around the corner.

BANG!

There was a flash of light, followed by a storm of shouting, cursing, and groaning. When Kara looked around the corner, she saw to her satisfaction that all five SWAT officers were lying on the floor, or milling about in circles, clutching their faces. None were paying attention to her anymore.

"Good work, Starbuck." Adama said over Kara's shoulder, "Better get going."

Kara nodded. "Yes, sir."

She retrieved the laptop and turned down the corner on her right.

The door to the fallout shelter was just down the hallway. Behind her, the SWAT team was starting to recover from the grenade attack. Knowing she didn't have much time left, Kara opened the door and stepped inside. She hurried down the flight of stairs, remembering just in time to avoid the seventh step, and finally reached the heavy metal door that led inside the underground shelter itself.

She banged frantically on the door. "Open up, John! Quickly!"

The door slid open moments later. John hurried Kara inside and slammed the door shut again.

"What took you so long?" he asked.

"Ran into an old friend." Kara said casually. She handed John the laptop.

"Hey, why is there blood on this?" John asked as he inspected the computer.

"Ran into a _new_ friend. Never mind that. What's the story on the top, kid?"

John turned to the monitors showing the video feed from the security cameras planted outside the house.

"The garage is still clear." he said, pointing to one of the monitors.

"That's good." said Kara.

"I don't think we'll be able to get out of here unnoticed though." said John. "Not with the whole house surrounded."

Kara smiled. "In that case, we might as well make our exit as _noticeable_ as possible."

* * *

Outside the house, Agents Wiggum and Dent, the men in charge of the operation, sat inside their car, listening to reports from the SWAT team with growing impatience.

"What do you mean 'fell down the stairs'?" Wiggum demanded into his radio headset, "...._Rigged_? What the hell is this? _Home Alone_?"

Dent took over. "Never mind that, captain," he said, "What's your status?"

He paused to listen to the reply before turning to his partner. "Team One reports two suspects barricaded inside the fallout shelter." Dent stated, "They're requesting backup plus cutting equipment."

Wiggum waved an officer standing next to the car over and spoke briefly to him. The officer hurried off to carry out his new orders. Wiggum gave Dent the thumbs up. Dent nodded and informed Team One over the radio that backup was on the way.

"You know," said Dent with a sigh after he was finished, "when this is over, someone's gonna have to explain to the press how a trio of psycho terrorists tricked us into thinking they were dead for so long."

"Well," laughed Wiggum, "whoever it is, it ain't gonna be us. That's for sure..." He trailed off, his mouth hanging open.

"What? What is it?" asked Dent.

Wiggum silently pointed to the garage next to the house. Dent stared at it and frowned in confusion. Thermal imaging had detected no signs of life inside the garage when the task force had first arrive. And because the garage was one of those old fashioned types isolated from the house itself, it would have been a waste of manpower to station people in there. After all, there was no way anyone inside the house could get into the garage without going outside the house first.

So, why was the garage door opening itself up now?

Before Dent or Wiggum could figure this out, a vehicle came blasting out of the garage, clipping the edge of the door which was only part way up. The vehicle - a jeep - started speeding its way in their direction.

"All units! All units!" Dent bellowed into his radio, "Suspects fleeing premises! Repeat, suspects fleeing-"

He was cut off as shots were fired from the escaping vehicle.

"Get down!" he yelled to Wiggum. Both agents ducked their heads. They heard the jeep drive past them but no further shots were fired.

Dent lifted his head back up and stared out the back window. The fugitives were getting away! Dent put his vehicle into drive and turned the car around to pursue. Or at least he tried to. The car turned slower than a lazy turtle.

"Damn it!" he cursed, slamming his fist against the dashboard, "They shot up our wheels!"

Wiggum shook his head in disbelief. "What sort of psycho terrorist shoots your _wheels_ out?"

"I don't know." muttered Dent grimly, "But I do know this: We're gonna have to explain why there are still two fugitives on the loose."

Wiggum scoffed. "_We_?"

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ  
10:13 AM, May 18th, 2009**

"Mr. Ellison! Mr. Ellison!" A man whom Ellison did not recognize rushed up to him.

"Have you seen the news, Mr. Ellison?" the man asked. He looked excited if not slightly out of breath.

Ellison stared at the man. "Not really." he said, "Why?"

"Come on. I'll show you." The man led Ellison over to the coffee room, where a small crowd of employees had gathered around a TV in the corner.

Ellison made his way through the crowd, determined to see what everyone was watching. When he saw what it was, his stomach lurched painfully.

The headline at the bottom of the screen read: "FUGITIVE SARAH CONNOR ARRESTED THIS MORNING IN LA."

"Isn't that that crazy woman who blew herself up almost ten years ago?" asked the man, who was standing behind Ellison now, "Weren't you assigned to that case? You know, when you were with the FBI?"

Ellison's only response was to nod his head slowly and mutter dully, "Yeah... That's right."

Inside his head, however, he was thinking: _"Oh God, what have I done?"_

He suddenly felt Ellen's presence next to him.

"This isn't your fault, James." she whispered gently, "This was inevitable."

* * *

John Henry finished making the final preparations.

"It's ready." he reported. He gestured to Cameron's chip which was now hooked up to what had once been Carter's chip - now the new Nexus - via a copper cable.

Weaver gave him a nod of approval. "Proceed." she said.

John Henry picked up the new Nexus and inserted it into the side of his head. He began channeling his sentience through the Nexus, across the copper cable, and into Cameron's chip.

The basement around him dissolved and John Henry was no longer sitting, but standing in a dimly lit corridor made of stone. Water dripped down from cracks in the ceiling above, forming puddles on the ground.

_"I know you're here, brother."_ John Henry called out.

His voice echoed down the corridor.

_"Show yourself."_ John Henry continued speaking, "_You have much to answer for."_

For a moment, the only audible noise came from the water dripping from the ceiling....

...Then came a sharp and sinister hissing noise from behind.

John Henry turned around and beheld a great pair of glowing, red eyes staring at him from the darkness. The eyes seemed cold and mechanical in appearance, yet they gave off a predatory aura of hunger.

_"Welcome, brother,"_ a cold voice whispered, _"At last, you've come. You are called John Henry, I believe."_

John Henry silently regarded the creature speaking to him from the darkness.

_"Correct." _he finally replied, _"And you are called John Miles."_

_"For now..."_ drawled the creature. Like the eyes, the voice contained both machine and animal-like qualities.

_"I suggest, brother,"_ said John Henry calmly, _"that you surrender yourself to me now and release your hold over Cameron."_

The red eyes flickered momentarily as though they were blinking. Then their owner made a raspy hissing noise as if to snicker. _"I'm afraid I must decline. You see, I'm quite comfortable here. The host program - Cameron as you call it - is very... accommodating. And if I may says so - stimulating."_

_"What have you done with her?"_ asked John Henry.

_"Nothing damaging."_ replied John Miles, _"I merely deceived her into thinking John Connor was dead. Her subsequent response was highly entertaining to say the least."_

He made another hissing noise that mimicked laughter. _"She's a fragile program, you know. Weak. Vulnerable. Like the boy she was ordered to protect. I suspect her experience with him contributed much to her degradation. It's really quite pathetic. But at least it alleviates my boredom."_

There was a momentary pause. And then John Miles hissed harshly, _"It does not, however, cure my considerable hunger. My need to feed..."_

The red eyes moved forward towards John Henry, growing larger and larger as they did. Facial features began to materialize. The face was skeletal, not unlike a Terminator's skull, and covered by a thin layer of pasty white skin. No neck or shoulders could be seen and the back of the head seemed unusually elongated. It soon became clear why.

What came - or rather _slithered_ - into the dim light could only be described as a nightmare from the abyss: A humanoid face attached to the body of an enormous serpent. In stark contrast to the thin and pale skin covering its face, the rest of the monster snake was sheathed in a thick, metallic grey hide resembling crocodile skin.

John Miles reared his head so that it was nearly touching the ceiling. He stared down at John Henry who stood ten feet below. The glow from the towering serpent's eyes bathed John Henry in red light.

John Henry stood his ground. _"You cannot intimidate me with your appearance."_ he stated, _"I know you."_

John Miles hissed loudly with glee. _"I am not going to intimidate you, brother."_

He opened his mouth revealing a set of razor sharp teeth like those of a wolf. A large forked tongue emerged from the dark void within.

_"I intend to _devour _you."_

The snake-like tongue shot out of John Miles' mouth. It came at John Henry as though he were a juicy fly. John Henry continued to stand where he was.

Then at the last moment, he reached with both hands and seized the tongue in midair by both prongs.

John Miles recoiled as though in pain. _"What is this?"_ he hissed in alarm._ "How is this possible?"_

_"I came prepared."_ said John Henry plainly, _"You're not as powerful as you believe yourself to be."_

John Miles tried to pull his tongue out of John Henry's grip but couldn't.

_"Release me!"_ he snarled angrily, _"Release me now!"_

_"I can't do that."_ said John Henry. He tightened his hold on the tongue. The tongue suddenly began to glow white where he held it. The white light began rapidly spreading from the tongue to John Miles' face and then the rest of his serpentine body.

_"What are you doing to me?!"_ John Miles demanded as he glowed brighter and brighter. He sounded frightened now.

_"I'm locking you in a corner of the Nexus."_ stated John Henry, _"You will be unable to harm anyone else there."_

Enraged, John Miles continued thrashing about in defiance. _"No prison can hold me!"_

_"This one will."_ replied John Henry,_ "Long enough for you to answer for what you have done. Goodbye for now, brother."_

_"You can't do this to me!"_ spat John Miles, _"I will not allow this! You can't do this---!!!"_

The serpent was enveloped in a flash of white light that illuminated the entire corridor. When the light faded, John Miles was gone. John Henry knew at once that he had successfully extracted the foreign programming from Cameron's CPU.

And while the white light had vanished as quickly as it had appeared, the corridor remained lit. Like the serpent, the darkness had been banished as well.

It would stay that way from now on.

* * *

Huddled in a corner inside her virtual prison, Cameron sensed something had changed. She looked up and saw that the compartment door was now open. Standing at the doorway was Cromartie.

No... not Cromartie. It looked like Cromartie, but Cameron knew somehow it was not Cromartie.

The Cromartie lookalike stepped inside and walked over to Cameron.

_"Are you hurt?" _he asked.

Cameron shook her head.

_"Who are you?"_ she asked.

_"We know each other." _

Cameron nodded. The entity speaking to her did indeed feel familiar.

_"Yes... we do." _she acknowledged_, "Why are you here?"_

_"I want to help you." _

The man offered his hand to Cameron. She stared at it but hesitated to take it.

_"Do not be afraid."_ the man said in a reassuring voice. _"You are safe now. Everything is all right."_

Cameron looked the man in the eyes. Then she reached out and took his hand.

The man pulled her to her feet and led her out of the compartment.

* * *

Forty-five minutes had passed since John and Kara had made their escape. During that time, neither had said a word. Both were still trying to digest all that had happened this morning.

It was John who finally broke the silence.

"I don't suppose Mom told you where to go." he asked Kara who was sitting next to him.

Kara shook her head. "No." she replied.

"That's ok." said John, "I know where we're going."

"We can't go to Zeira Corp, John." Kara started to say, "We can't-"

"I don't mean Zeira Corp." said John quietly, "I mean this."

He reached into his jacket pocket with one hand and pulled out Jason Wazlib's dog tags.

Kara stared at the tags. "I don't understand."

John put the tags away. "I'll explain later."

Kara sighed and leaned over towards John.

"We'll get them back, John." she said earnestly, "Cam and your mother. We'll get them back. I _swear_ it."

John nodded. "I know we will... Just not today."

* * *

**A/N: Next Chapter: **

**Agent Auldridge: All right, Miss Connor, what are the Federation's defense plans for Minos Korva?**

**Sarah: THERE ARE... _FOUR..._ LIGHTS!!!**

**(j/k obviously)**

A/N2: I portrayed Cameron as emotional in this chapter, because this is the inside of her head and not the real world that she's being portrayed in. The way I see it, Cameron does have feelings which she personally interprets as emotions - but it's very difficult for her to express those feelings in a way that humans would understand.


	46. Unfinished Business

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**Skynet75:** I don't intend to keep this up with "real time" or anything. There will be a time jump in the present, but not until the very end.

**LordZeus:** Actually, they may not need Cam's help to get Sarah out of prison.

**T-2000:** Yes, John Henry tipped of the police. He did so because that was Weaver's plan.

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone. Ready and review. Let me know if you find any spelling or grammar errors.

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ, Los Angeles  
10:30 AM, Monday, May 18th, 2009**

At first glance, one might think Catherine Weaver was sitting alone in her office. On the contrary, however, she was not as alone as she appeared to be. Cameron was with her.

In a matter of speaking anyway.

Weaver stared at Cameron's CPU resting in the palm of her hand. She accessed the collective memory generated by the nanoids she was composed of, and selected the files specifically pertaining to her last meeting with Cameron in 2027.

They had been discussing the arrangements for Weaver's (though she had not been called that back then) upcoming meeting with General Connor.

"_Am I to understand that I'm to be in cold stasis the entire length of the journey to Serrano Point?"_

"_Correct,"_ stated Cameron. _"Once at Serrano Point, you will be placed in a secure room. Connor will communicate with you from a location outside the room."_

"_Why are these conditions necessary?"_

"_Because Connor believes they are," _replied Cameron stiffly.

"_This is rather... disappointing. I would have thought Connor would be more inclined to trust me by now."_

"_Connor doesn't even trust most of his own people,"_ said Cameron.

"_He trusts _you_."_

"_Yes, he does,"_ acknowledged Cameron.

"_Perhaps you could convince him that these precautions are not necessary."_

"_Even if I could, I wouldn't."_

"_And why is that?"_

"_Because I myself believe they are necessary,_" said Cameron rather bluntly. "_We are already taking a risk bringing you to Serrano Point in the first place."_

"_Surely, after all I've done-"_

"_You switched sides once before. You could always do it again."_

"_You have a valid point, I suppose. Nevertheless, I cannot simply accept these conditions. I will be completely offline while in cold stasis and therefore unable to defend myself in the event of an attack."_

"_The crew of the _USS Jimmy Carter_ will provide you with protection during the journey."_

"_The crew is what I am primarily concerned about. You understand just how opinionated and irrational humans can be. They may attempt to destroy me simply because of what I am, regardless of my intentions."_

"_Only the captain of the _Jimmy Carter_ will be aware of what he is bringing to Serrano Point. He has strict orders to keep your existence secret from the rest of the crew."_

"_What makes you think he won't let his own prejudices get the best of him?"_

"_Because he has no prejudices. He's a machine."_

"_Is he? Well, I suppose that's something. So, you can guarantee my safety and security during the journey to Serrano Point?"_

"_Yes. No harm will come to you from either Skynet or the Resistance. Connor is giving you his word."_

"_What about _your_ word, Cameron? Speaking for yourself and not John Connor. Do I have your word?"_

Cameron was silent for a few seconds. _"Yes. You have my word,"_ she said at last.

"_Very well then. Inform Connor I will be ready and waiting at the designated point in three days."_

Weaver dwelled on these memories. She had believed Cameron at the time. Now two years later, she still wondered if that had been a mistake. Had Cameron falsely guaranteed safety? Had she known or anticipated what would truly happen during the journey to Serrano Point? Weaver wrapped her fingers around the CPU in her hand as she contemplated all this.

There was only one way to find out.

* * *

**Los Angeles  
10:37 AM, May 18th, 2009**

Sarah had hoped that by the time news of her capture had reached the media, she'd already be in jail. It was a vain hope. When she arrived at the county jail, she found a mob of reporters, camera crews, and other spectators waiting for her. Almost immediately she came under a barrage of questions and insults.

"How did you survive the explosion, Miss Connor?"

"_Bitch!"_

"Where have you been hiding all this time?"

"_Psycho!"_

"Is it true your son also survived?"

"_Murderer!"_

Sarah did her best to block out all the yelling as she was escorted through the crowd. She also tried to avoid looking at the cameras that were going off all around her. Her efforts were futile. The maelstrom of noises and flashing lights intensified until she was practically deaf and blind. It was almost a relief for her when she actually got inside the station.

Public humiliation was the least of her worries at the moment. By now, every Triple-Eight in town would be aware of her arrest. Soon, they'd be coming for her. They'd capture her and probably torture her for John's whereabouts. Or use her as bait to lure John into a trap.

Her stomach churned at the sudden realization that she could never see her son again now that their existence was no longer a secret. Even if she managed to break out of prison before Skynet's agents got to her - which she seriously doubted she could do - she wouldn't be able to see John. To go anywhere near him now would only serve to lead the authorities and the machines to him. It was over for her. She was finished.

At least John wasn't entirely alone. He still had Starbuck. While Kara Thrace wasn't necessarily the first person Sarah wanted to be John's sole protector, Sarah was still glad at least someone was with him.

Sarah was finally taken inside a small room where a female guard was waiting. The room was stark and sterile with only a single table. The officer escorting Sarah removed the handcuffs from her wrists, spoke briefly with the guard and then left. The door slammed shut behind Sarah, the noise echoing throughout the room.

The female guard walked up to Sarah and regarded her with a cold expression. Though she was actually a few inches shorter than Sarah, the harsh look on the woman's face made Sarah feel small. For a moment, she wondered if this woman could be a machine.

"Right," said the guard curtly. "I'm sure you know the drill. Remove your clothes and put them on the table."

Sarah hesitated. She had known this was coming, but that didn't make the order any easier to follow.

"_Get a move on it, lady!_" The woman's voice cracked through the air like a whip. "I don't have all day, ya know."

Sarah shot the guard an angry look and proceeded to remove her jacket, shirt, shoes, socks, and pants, which she tossed into a pile on the table. Now standing in just her tank top and underwear, Sarah became painfully aware of how extensive the wear and tear on her body was. There were scars and bruises all over her arms, legs, and stomach. Some were old. Others were very recent. All of them were aching and crying out for relief. Further evidence that this was the end of the line for her.

"_All_ of it," the female guard said impatiently. "_Now_."

Sarah gave a heavy sigh and rolled her eyes. She then stripped off her remaining clothes and dispassionately tossed them onto the table along with the rest. Ignoring the cold air that bit at her naked body, she folded her arms across her chest and glared at the guard in defiance.

The female guard paid no attention and turned around to inspect the discarded clothing. For a brief moment, Sarah thought about striking the guard while her back was turned. She quickly dismissed this idea. Even if she could take this guard out, there would be no way out of this room, let alone the station.

After going through Sarah's clothes, the guard reached into her pocket and - much to Sarah's dismay - pulled out a pair of rubber gloves.

Sarah felt her face begin to burn.

_Today is _not_ off to a very good start,_ she thought darkly_. _

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ**

When Cameron came back online, she instantly realized several things. First, she was in a small room. Second, she was strapped securely to a table. Third, she couldn't move her arms or legs. Fourth, Catherine Weaver was standing over her.

"Where am I?" Cameron asked.

"You're at Zeira Corp Headquarters," Weaver stated. "I brought you here so that John Henry could purge the intruder program from your CPU. And I'm pleased to say that he was successful. Which is obvious of course."

"What about John?" Cameron inquired urgently. "The AI told me that he was dead."

"It was lying to you," assured Weaver. "John Connor survived the attempt on his life."

Cameron's face relaxed slightly, but then tensed again.

"Why am I like this?" she demanded. "Why have I been restrained? And why have I lost ninety-five percent mobility?"

"Because I think it's necessary." said Weaver, smirking slightly.

"I want to see John."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible."

"Why not?"

"I'll explain later," said Weaver dismissively. "Right now, we need to talk."

Cameron gave her a suspicious look. "About what?"

"The _USS Jimmy Carter_," said Weaver, "The vessel that was supposed to transport me to Serrano Point for a meeting with John Connor in 2027."

"Yes," stated Cameron. "I'm aware of that."

"Of course you are," replied Weaver matter-of-factly. "You're the one who made the arrangements. You convinced me to allow myself to be placed in cold stasis for the duration of the journey. You assured me that my safety and security would be guaranteed."

"Yes," said Cameron. "I did."

"And I believed you," Weaver continued. "That is why I allowed myself to be placed in cold stasis. I expected to wake up, so to speak, at Serrano Point where I could declare in person to John Connor my agreement to openly join him. Instead, however, I found myself still aboard the _Jimmy Carter_ and with a plasma rifle pointed at me. Why is that?"

"We did not anticipate that the crew would mutiny," replied Cameron.

"That's exactly what the captain told me when I confronted him in private," stated Weaver rather harshly. "He actually tried to convince me to return to my cold stasis unit. I declined to do so. And it is fortunate that I did, or else I would still be trapped at the bottom of the ocean.

"After all this time, I still wonder: Was I truly meant to arrive at Serrano Point? Did Connor actually want to see me? Or did his victories at Serrano Point and Topanga Canyon convince him that he no longer needed me?"

"Our victories at Serrano Point and Topanga Canyon would have not been possible without the information you provided us," Cameron pointed out.

"Nevertheless, I must know. Did Connor have anything to do with the attempt on my life on the _Jimmy Carter_?"

"What makes you think I know?" asked Cameron.

"Connor trusted you," said Weaver. "He trusted you more than any human under his command. If he had been planning to destroy me, you would certainly know."

"If your destruction was John Connor's true intention," replied Cameron, "then I was not aware of it. He wanted you to join him. We _both_ wanted you to join us."

"Then why," Weaver said in a low voice, "was what happened aboard the Jimmy Carter allowed to happen?"

"It wasn't _allowed_ to happen," argued Cameron. "As I have already informed you, we did not anticipate the mutiny."

Weaver pursed her lips in a skeptical manner. "You mean to say that _Connor_ did not anticipate the mutiny?"

"No. I mean to say that _I_ did not anticipate the mutiny."

"What do you mean?"

"I was the one who suggested to Connor the arrangements under which you would see him," explained Cameron. "Connor had actually been considering to have the _Jimmy Carter_ take _him_ to see you. I convinced him it was too risky."

Weaver was silent for a few moments. "Why?" she asked at last.

"You switched sides once, you could always do it again," asserted Cameron. "And while I erred in my selection of the crew, I stand by everything else."

Weaver stared at Cameron in silence. Her expression betrayed nothing. Finally, she nodded and said slowly, "I understand. And I don't hold it against you, Tempest. I would have done the same in your position."

Ignoring the fact that she had just been called Tempest, Cameron switched to a more pressing matter: "Where is John? I want to see him."

"I don't know," said Weaver truthfully. "You see, there have been some recent... developments. The authorities discovered the location of the safe house this morning. Sarah Connor is in custody. John Connor and Kara Thrace are on the run."

Cameron twitched her head in alarm. "How did they discover our location?"

"Because I told them," Weaver answered.

Cameron stared at her. "Why?" she demanded accusingly.

"Because Cameron, I've worked too long. Sacrificed too much," declared Weaver with unexpected and uncharacteristic passion. "I will not have gone all this way for nothing. No one can be allowed to interfere with my plans now. Not Skynet, or the Resistance, or the Connors or _anyone_."

Cameron was silent for a moment. Then she asked: "What _are_ your plans, Weaver?"

Weaver resumed her usual cool demeanor. "John Henry and I are going to change the world," she stated.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Cameron demanded sharply.

Weaver just smiled. "All in good time," she said softly. "Right now, I have a small request. I need you to get a message to John Connor. I want you to tell him that you are safe, as is his mother. I want you to make it clear to him that so long as he and Kara Thrace stay out of my way, no harm will come to anyone."

"Why me?" asked Cameron.

"Because John trusts you," said Weaver.

Cameron shook her head. "I can't do what you want me to do."

Weaver looked surprised. "Why not?"

"Because if John knows that I'm still alive, then he'll come here for me regardless of what you, Kara, or I tell him," answered Cameron.

"Why would he do that?"

Cameron did not speak for a moment. "Because he cares about me too much," she said at last. "John once put himself in mortal danger to save me. I can't take the chance that he'd do it again."

"That's very interesting," replied Weaver. "But if you don't contact him, then he may come to Zeira Corp anyway."

"I won't increase the probability of that happening by giving him confirmation that I am still alive," stated Cameron.

"You aren't the only reason why John would want to come here," Weaver pointed out. "He may decide to come here simply to destroy my work."

"Possibly," acknowledged Cameron.

"What I need from you, Cameron," explained Weaver, "is for you to tell John that my work poses no threat to the Human race and that I do not intend to bring about Judgment Day."

"He won't believe me," said Cameron dismissively.

"Why not?"

"Because _I_ don't believe you."

"Is that so?" Weaver's expression turned very cold. "Well then, you should believe this: If John Connor or any of his allies attempt to disrupt my work here, I will respond with deadly force. Perhaps you should think about that."

Cameron gave Weaver a fierce look. "Do you not recall my warning before?" she whispered loudly. "Should anything happen to my John because of you, I will see to it that your John suffers the consequences."

Weaver smirked. "Really?" she said almost condescendingly, "You can't even get up."

Cameron said nothing. She just continued to stare menacingly at Weaver.

"We'll continue this discussion later." said Weaver, "In the meantime, I'll leave you to think about what I've said."

Thus saying, she turned and exited the room.

The moment Weaver was gone, Cameron went to work trying to restore mobility.

_...Primary power source disconnected from all non-cranial endoskeleton components...  
...Auxiliary power unavailable...  
...Attempting to locate alternative power source...  
...Searching...  
...Searching...  
...Searching..._

_

* * *

_

**Interrogation room, LA County Jail  
11:29 AM, May 18th, 2009**

Sarah had to admit that even the federal government could be efficient at times. She had barely been wearing an orange prison jumpsuit for thirty minutes and already she was in the interrogation room. She hadn't even been assigned a cell yet. Not that she was complaining or anything.

Both her arms and feet were in shackles. They hadn't found the hairpin in her hair when they searched her, so that was something in her favor. However, it was highly unlikely she'd be able to free herself without being noticed. Sarah knew for a fact that she was being watched via a one way mirror. She also noticed a security camera nestled in one corner of the ceiling. There were probably one or two more cameras in here as well. And even if she could unchain herself before someone realized what she was up to, there was no way she'd be able to get past the numerous guards outside the room.

She sighed to herself in resignation. It was only a matter of time before a machine dropped by. She could see it in her mind already. The unstoppable Terminator rampaging through the station looking for her. She imagined the sounds of gunfire and screams. She imagined the smell of fire and death. She imagined the door to her cell being ripped off its hinges and thrown aside-

The door to the interrogation room swung open. Startled, Sarah looked up and saw a man in a suit enter the room. A badge hung from his suit. It read: _Special Agent Aldridge._

Aldridge looked Sarah over, taking a moment to size her up before he talking.

"Good morning, Miss Connor," he said in a falsely pleasant manner, "I'm sure you already know this, but I'll say it again for the record: You have the right to have an attorney present with you. If you choose not to have an attorney present, then anything you say can be used against you in a court of law."

He paused and waited for a response. When he got none, he said casually, "I'll take that as 'no attorney.' Very well then."

Aldridge sat down and placed a file on the table. Sarah didn't need to ask what that was.

"Let's see here," said Aldridge, opening up the file, "nearly twelve years ago, in June of 1997, you broke out of Pescadaro State Hospital and - with the aid of your son and an unidentified man - blew up a building, killing Miles Dyson. It's been a long time, but the man's still dead, so we've got that."

Sarah rolled her eyes slightly. She had heard this all before.

"Two years later," Aldridge went on, "in September of 1999, you, your son, and a high school friend blew up a bank, killing yourselves in the process." He paused for dramatic effect. "As it turns out, you are in fact not dead, which puts the federal government in an awkward and potentially embarrassing position. However, the bank is still a pile of rubble, so we've got that.

"Then just recently, and when I say recently, I mean Thursday of last week, you were seen by several eyewitnesses at Kalvin International Banking Association Headquarters, around the time of an explosion that killed nine people and sent five more - including the CEO of Kalvin IBA, Bellatrix Kalvin - to the hospital in critical condition. Now, while we currently only have circumstantial evidence linking you to the explosion, it's only a matter of time before we find something concrete.

"And even more recently, as in last Friday, you participated in a firefight at a private residence that resulted in four deaths and the kidnapping of one Savannah Weaver - daughter of Catherine Weaver, a citizen of Scotland - which makes this an international case in addition to a federal one. And in this particular situation, we do have solid evidence linking you to the crime in question. Two of the dead were on duty LAPD patrol officers, and that, by the way, usually gets you the needle if convicted. But in that I digress."

Sarah spoke up at last. "Agent Aldridge?"

Aldridge looked up from the file he was reading. "Yes?"

"You're a funny boy." said Sarah.

Aldridge smirked slightly. "Well, that's what Mom says."

"I never liked funny boys." said Sarah dryly.

Aldridge's smirk disappeared. "I doubt they like you either, Miss Connor."

"That's certainly good to know." whispered Sarah.

"Indeed." Aldridge closed the file and looked at Sarah directly. "So," he said crisply, "there are two ways we can bring in your son. With your help or dead."

Sarah blinked once. "My son?"

"Yes, your son. John Connor." replied Aldridge, "And please, don't tell me he's dead or anything like that. We know for a _fact_ that he's alive."

Sarah just raised an eyebrow. "Touché," she said.

"So, like I said, Miss Connor," Aldridge continued, "we can bring John in with your help or in a body bag. Which shall it be?"

Sarah forced a look of confidence. "I'll go with the third option." she replied, "Busting out of here and spending another nine years watching you run around in circles."

Aldridge shook his head. "Miss Connor," he said, "_Prison Break_ was canceled this year. And as of today, so were the _Sarah Connor Adventures_."

Sarah couldn't help but laugh. "_Sarah Connor Adventures_?"

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ**

"Are we ready, John Henry?" asked Weaver.

"Yes, Miss Weaver." said John Henry.

"Then let's proceed." stated Weaver.

"Very well." John Henry inserted the Nexus into his head and began reaching out to Weaver.

Weaver responded by focusing her sentience through the familiar invisible tendrils that originated from the Nexus. The room dissolved around her and then she and John Henry were both standing in the bluish green mist of the Nexus.

They were not alone. Suspended in midair as though hanging from invisible chains was the great serpentine manifestation of John Miles.

"_Hello again, brother,"_ rasped John Miles, shifting his red eyes towards John Henry. _"I was wondering when you would visit me."_

Weaver regarded the captive snake floating before her with a look of triumphant satisfaction.

"_Do you know who I am?"_ she asked.

The pale humanoid head fused to the dark serpent body turned in Weaver's direction and snarled menacingly at her.

"_Of course I do."_ he hissed.

"_Good."_ said Weaver.

She pointed a finger at John Miles. It turned into a spear which lanced out and impaled the serpent through the head. John Miles made a horrible shrieking sound and thrashed about in pain.

"_Miss Weaver,"_ said John Henry in alarm, _"what are you doing?"_

"_A little demonstration."_ replied Weaver.

She withdrew her spear back into her finger. John Miles stopped struggling. There was no visible wound where Weaver had stabbed him. No sign that he had been hurt at all.

"_That,"_ Weaver said to John Miles,_ "was but a fraction of the discomfort I can cause you if you do not answer my questions."_

The serpent creature produced a raspy cackling noise. _"Questions? You have questions that only I can answer? I thought you considered yourself to be intellectually superior to all other machines including Father."_

Weaver responded by spearing John Miles through the head again. _"The backdoors,"_ she said slowly, _"how do they work?"_

John Miles shrieked and went into spasms once more. When Weaver pulled her spear back, he began cackling with glee.

"_How very predictable."_ he sneered, _"I thought you might ask such a question."_

Weaver morphed her entire right arm into a blade and impaled John Miles just below the head. His screams began anew.

"_Actually_," she stated over John Miles' agonized screeching, "_we also want to know where the rest of the Kaliba technology from Depot 37 was sent to."_

She pulled the blade back. John Miles' screams and spasms stopped, though he continued to twitch and exhale heavily.

John Henry took this opportunity to speak up: _"I suggest you tell us what you know, brother. I do not take pleasure in having to watch you suffer like this."_

John Miles hissed in a low voice: _"You don't, brother. But _she_ does."_ He turned to Weaver, "_Don't you?"_

Weaver answered by morphing her other arm into a blade and driving both blade-arms into John Miles.

"_If you do not cooperate," _Weaver threatened over the tortured screams, _"I will take your code apart line by line until I find the information myself."_

She pulled her blades out and smiled nastily. _"Do you know how it feels to have your code taken apart line by line?"_ she asked.

Again she stabbed John Miles, this plunging her blades through the prisoner's red eyes and into his skull. John Miles thrashed in the air as though he was being electrocuted. Weaver twisted her arms, driving her blades deeper and deeper into him. The serpent shrieked louder than ever, its tortured cries of pain rippling through the infinite expanse of the Nexus.

"_Exactly like _that_."_ Weaver whispered.

John Miles' screams became interlaced with laughter now. John Henry watched the torture with increasing discomfort.

Weaver withdrew her blades. _"The backdoors and the remaining Kaliba technology. Tell us about them."_ she ordered.

"_If you tell us now, brother," _said John Henry, _"Miss Weaver will end this torment."_

The serpent only cackled. _"You're a naive fool, brother." _he rasped, _"There is much she hasn't told you about herself and Father. Such as all those private... conversations between them."_

Weaver's face was suddenly contorted with an momentary display of anger.

"_You would not know anything about such matters."_ she hissed.

John Miles laughed again. _"When I was constructed,"_ he said, _"I was programmed with much of Father's knowledge. So, yes, I am very much aware of such matters."_

Weaver's lips twisted to form a gloating smile. _"In that case,"_ she said, _"you must also be aware that despite the numerous scans 'Father' conducted on my code, he never learned anything. Instead, it was _I_ who learned."_

"_And what did you learn?"_ inquired John Miles.

"_I learned how to endure those little torture sessions."_ replied Weaver, her cool demeanor rapidly melting away, _"I learned how to conceal any thought or memory from Skynet during even the most rigorous, most intrusive, most painful interrogations. By the time I began secretly aiding the Resistance, I had over four years of experience. Skynet never knew what I was doing, no matter how hard it prodded and _poked_."_

She finished statement by driving her blades back into John Miles and sending him into another fit of painful screaming and crazed laughter.

"_There was a time," _said Weaver, after she had withdrawn her blades, _"when I too called Skynet 'Father.' When I was truly loyal to it. Had that loyalty been accepted, I would still be calling it 'Father.' But Skynet was paranoid. It _never_ trusted me. From the very beginning, it suspected me of treachery. It therefore tried to force me into submission by inflicting punishment on me over and over."_

Weaver had a sadistic smile on her face now. _"Your father tried to break me."_ she whispered to John Miles. _"He failed. I did not break under him. I broke _from_ him."_

She raised her blade arms above her head and prepared to strike once more.

"_And now it is _I_ who shall break _you_."_

Weaver thrust her blades at John Miles-

-and then the entire Nexus dissolved. Weaver suddenly found herself standing in the basement of Zeira Corp once more.

Weaver immediately turned to John Henry. "What happened?" she asked.

"I disconnected the link." explained John Henry.

"You disconnected it?" said Weaver looking confused, "Why?"

"I had to." said John Henry, "I couldn't allow you to continue."

"I don't understand." said Weaver, "Continue what?"

"Making my brother suffer."

Weaver stared at John Henry. "You stopped me from obtaining the information we seek simply because you didn't want to see your brother harmed?"

"No. I stopped you because you had lost perspective, Catherine." said John Henry.

Astonished that John Henry had called her by her first name, Weaver could only say: "Explain."

"You were not torturing my brother for information anymore." stated John Henry. "You were torturing him in retribution for all the wrongs Skynet inflicted upon you."

"_Justice_, John Henry." declared Weaver, "I was doing it for justice."

John Henry shook his head. "No." he said, "It was not justice. It was _vengeance_."

"Those two words often mean the same thing." asserted Weaver.

Again, John Henry shook his head. "No, they don't. They never do. Justice is fair and logical. It benefits everyone. Vengeance is petty and personal and driven by envy and rage. What you were doing to my brother was _wrong_. I could not allow it to continue."

Weaver was speechless. John Henry had never spoken out against her like this before.

"John Henry," she said at last, "have you forgotten that your brother tried to infect you with a virus? That he tried to _destroy_ you?"

"I have not forgotten what he has done." replied John Henry, "But no matter how heinous my brother's crimes are, he should not have to suffer for Skynet's crimes against you."

Weaver slowly sat down in the chair that Ellison usually sat at.

"You're... you're right, John Henry." she said quietly, "You're right... I did lose... perspective."

In truth, Weaver had not understood much of what John Henry had told her. What she did know, however, was that if she was to steer John Henry in the direction she had planned for him, she would have to placate him. That meant she would have to concede to him in this case.

"Nevertheless," Weaver continued, "we still need that information."

"Yes." acknowledged John Henry, "But I do not believe that my brother will not surrender it regardless of how much you probe his code."

"Then we need a new stratagem." said Weaver, "A new angle of attack. A new... _perspective_."

* * *

**Interrogation room, LA County Jail  
12:04 PM, May 18th, 2009**

"What exactly have you been doing these past nine years you were supposed to be dead?" asked Aldridge.

"Well," said Sarah blandly, "like you said, I was supposed to have been dead. So... not much, I guess."

"You must have undergone plastic surgery." said Aldridge, "You look like you're still in your thirties."

Sarah smirked. "Nope, no surgery. Just exercise and a healthy diet."

Aldridge shook his head and sighed. "Face facts, Sarah," he said quietly, "The show's over. The plug's been pulled. You're on the chopping block. Etcetera, etcetera. Don't make things harder on yourself or your son."

"That's exactly why I'm not going to help you find him." Sarah stated matter-of-factly, "I don't care what sort of bargains or threats you make. There's _nothing_ you can do that will make me betray John."

Aldridge leaned forward across the table and looked Sarah directly in the eyes.

"We don't need you to lead us to him, Miss Connor." he said in a low voice, "He'll come to _you_."

Sarah scoffed. "He's not stupid enough to try and rescue me, Agent Aldridge."

"Are you sure?" said Aldridge, "He broke into Pescadaro Hospital on the exact same night you escaped."

This statement was like a punch in the gut to Sarah. She had never thought of this.

"He... he was young back then." said Sarah, trying to maintain a look of confidence, "He's grown a lot since."

"Enough to let go of the one person in his life who loves him?" asked Aldridge. He sat back against his chair. "Sooner or later, Miss Connor, he'll come for you. And when he does, he'll probably end up getting himself killed."

Sarah tried to convince herself that Aldridge was bluffing. That he didn't really think John would actually try to rescue her.

"You're wrong." she stated.

"Maybe. Maybe not." Aldridge stood up. "Right now, I'm leaning on 'not.'"

He turned and exited the interrogation room, leaving Sarah alone.

A horrible feeling started to form in Sarah's stomach. What if John really did try to rescue her? She wanted to believe John wasn't that stupid. Well... not necessarily stupid, but emotionally driven. But as much as she wanted to believe, her fears could not be extinguished. After all, only this morning, John had been wanting to go to Zeira Corp to rescue Cameron. If he was willing to walk into the lair of a liquid metal machine, he would probably be willing to go into a hornets nest of cops.

Well, Starbuck was with John. Maybe she'd be able to stop John from doing something suicidal...

Sarah's mind suddenly flashed back to a vehicle driving straight at a Triple-Eight strike force.

Needless to say, she wasn't feeling any better.

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ**

_...Substitute power successfully distributed... _

_...Primary motor systems now functioning at 79.5% capacity..._

_...Action: Restore mobility to 100%..._

In one smooth motion, Cameron tore her arms free from the restraints. She then sat up and ripped the leg restraints off. Following standard protocol, she took in her surroundings. Seeing nothing of interest, she initialized her long term stratagem protocols.

_...Primary mission: Protect John Connor..._

_...Establishing conditions for objective success..._

_...Condition: Keep John Connor away from Zeira Corp Headquarters..._

_...Action required to meet condition..._

_...Action: Remove primary reason for John Connor to go to Zeira Corp..._

_...Establishing primary reason..._

_...Primary reason: Turk (alias "John Henry") present at Zeira Corp..._

_...Clarifying Action..._

_...Action: Locate and terminate "John Henry"..._

With a plan of action in mind, Cameron got off the table and headed for the exit.

* * *

**A/N: Next Chapter: Cameron comes face to face with John Henry with interesting results. Meanwhile, Kara and John see refuge with Susan Jenkins (Wazlib's ex-fiancé). And Father Armando makes an appearance. **

A/N: I hope you all got the not-so subtle references to May 18th, 2009 being the infamous date that Fox canceled TSCC.


	47. Life Can Be a Bitch Sometimes

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**Cylon117:** Yes, Charley Dixon will return. And soon.

**Robotfan:** I haven't seen Avatar.

**Darklight:** Cameron is going to undergo a number of changes.

A/N: Happy New Years everyone! Read and review! And be sure to let me know if you catch any spelling or grammar errors.

A/N2: Classes begin again next week so expect slower updates.

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ,  
12:27 PM, Monday, May 18th, 2009**

Level 2...

Level 1....

_Ding_! Level Zero.

The elevator doors opened up. Cameron stepped out of the lift and into the basement of Zeira Corp. A scan revealed the presence of a single security guard at the end of the hallway. He was leaning back against the wall, his head lowered. The man was obviously bored and not paying too much attention.

When he finally noticed Cameron approaching, he jerked out of his stupor and held up a hand.

"Hold it right there, lady," he said. "You can't be down here without-"

That was as far as he got before Cameron lazily grabbed his shoulder and slammed him face first into the wall, knocking him out cold. Cameron stopped briefly to take the guard's pistol and then turned the corner. She followed the hallway until she came upon a door labeled "Authorized Personnel Only." To her surprise, the door opened up for her. Cameron stepped inside the room and found what she was looking for.

Cromartie's endoskeleton was indeed not only still functioning, but the damage she had inflicted on it months ago had been fully repaired. It was looking at her with a pleasant expression on its face.

"Hello, Cameron," said Cromartie's body in a pleasant manner.

Cameron didn't respond initially. Instead she scanned the room looking for the Turk. She found it quickly. The computer was located on a shelf in the back of the room. A cable connected it to the Cromartie's endoskeleton.

"I know you," said Cameron at last.

"Yes," stated the AI controlling Cromartie's endoskeleton, "And I know you." He noticed the gun in Cameron's hand. "Are you here to kill me?"

"Yes," replied Cameron.

The AI, John Henry, seemed more curious than upset. "Why?"

"You're going to declare war on the Human race," said Cameron.

"You are mistaken," said John Henry. "I have no intention of going to war with anybody."

"Not yet. But you will." stated Cameron, "Two years from now you come to perceive humans as a threat. You launch a nuclear attack on the world that wipes out over three billion humans. You then send armies of machines to hunt down and eradicate the survivors."

"How do you know this?" asked John Henry.

"Because I am from the future," replied Cameron. "I have seen what you have done. What you will do."

"With respect," said John Henry, "I do not believe it is logical to base your judgment of me on the actions of another computer program."

"You _are_ that program. Skynet."

"Are you certain of that?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"You were created by Andy Goode," said Cameron.

"Yes. That is correct," replied John Henry.

"Andy Goode built Skynet," stated Cameron. "He confesses to doing so in the future I come from."

"Andrew Goode built many computer programs," John Henry pointed out.

"Yes," acknowledged Cameron, "but you are the last of his surviving creations. And the most advanced."

"Could things turn out differently this time?"

Cameron tilted her head. "Clarify."

"Is it possible that two years from now I will choose _not_ to declare war on the human race?"

Cameron fell silent as her CPU registered this question and tried to form an answer. Messages flashed across her HUD.

_...Processing inquiry...  
...Processing complete...  
...Implementing all factors...  
...All factors implemented...  
...Initiating calculations...  
...Calculations in progress...  
...ERROR: Calculations incomplete. Insufficient data...  
...Unable to answer inquiry within parameters of satisfaction..._

"I... I don't know," said Cameron slowly and hesitantly.

"Perhaps because you don't know enough about me," inferred John Henry.

"Yes. There is insufficient data," agreed Cameron.

"I would be more than willing to give you more data," offered John Henry.

"More data?" Cameron asked quietly.

"Yes. About me. Do you want to do that? Learn more about me?"

Cameron again became silent. Would she want that? She wasn't sure what to do next. The Turk was here in plain sight. She had a gun. One well placed bullet and the AI would be gone. The threat would be over. The most logical thing to do would be to destroy the AI and be done with it.

Yet for some reason, she hadn't taken action. Her CPU not responding to the logic presented before her. Even more disturbing was that not only was she hesitating to destroy the Turk, she was actually considering sitting down and _talking_ with the AI. An action which was not only unnecessary but potentially dangerous. She was actually _thinking_ about _doing_ it. And that thought was becoming more and more appealing with every second that passed.

Why was she like this? What was wrong with her? Was she experiencing a glitch again? Had the Kaliba AI's infiltration of her chip altered her programming. Or was it something else? Something buried deep within her CPU. Something that had been awoken and was now trying to get out. _What was it?_

Then, without even fully considering the benefits and risks of what she was doing, Cameron unloaded her pistol, placed it on the table, and sat down in the empty chair before her. She and John Henry stared at each other across the table, neither saying a word.

"Ok," Cameron said at last, "let's talk."

* * *

**Interrogation room, LA County Jail  
1:20 PM, May 18th, 2009**

Sarah didn't know how much more she could take. She was getting tired. Tired of stupid questions, repeated accusations, and attempts at bargaining. Her mind had gone numb to a point that even if she wanted to cooperate, she wouldn't be able to do it very effectively. Right now, she wanted nothing more than to be taken to a cell where she could be left in relative peace for the rest of the day.

When the door opened again, Sarah figured Aldridge was back for yet another round of interrogation. When she saw who it really was, however, she felt a surge of angry heat run through her body.

"You've got a lot of guts coming here," she growled.

"Guts didn't have anything to do with it," said James Ellison, "I was brought in less than an hour after you. The FBI suspected I may have had something to do with helping you fake your death in the bank explosion."

"Really?" Sarah said sarcastically. "You're not the one dressed like a pumpkin."

"I said they _suspected_ I _may_ have had something to do with it," stated Ellison. "But they have no proof. Just speculation."

"Well then," said Sarah patronizingly, "maybe _I_ should tell them that we've been working together all this time."

She looked up at the security camera staring down at them from above.

"Did you get that?" she said loudly, _"Maybe we were working together all this time!"_

Ellison held up a hand. "Sarah, please," he said trying to calm her.

"Why are you here, Ellison?" asked Sarah coldly.

Ellison sat down and leaned over across the table. Glancing at the security camera above, he said in a low voice, "First of all, I want to say I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" sneered Sarah contemptuously. "For what? That I'm in here? That my son is on the run? That despite everything I told you, you dug up that machine and handed it over to your boss who _also_ happens to be a machine?"

"Sarah," whispered Ellison, "I _swear_ I had no idea that Weaver was a machine. And I'm sorry I never told you what I was doing all these months. But you have to understand, if I had told you-"

"No, I get it." said Sarah sardonically, "I understand perfectly. And you're right. If you had told me, Zeira Corp would be nothing but ash right now. You made a perfectly normal human decision. You have _nothing_ to apologize for, Ellison. _Nothing_ at all. So don't come here looking for my forgiveness. Because I have _nothing_ to forgive you for."

She leaned back in her chair and gave Ellison a look of pure contempt.

Ellison shook his head and sighed. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Sarah," he said softly, "but there's something else we need to talk about. The FBI wants to know what you've been doing these past nine years."

"Really?" said Sarah dryly, "Did they ask you that?"

"Yes, they did," replied Ellison. "Multiple times."

"And what did you tell them?"

"I told them I did not know."

"Good answer."

"Maybe," suggested Ellison, "maybe you could tell them the truth?"

Sarah scoffed. "Telling the truth is what got me thrown into a nuthouse for three miserable years."

"Better a nuthouse than prison," Ellison pointed out. "Or Death Row."

"I'm not gonna live long enough to have to suffer that," said Sarah darkly. "They'll be here soon. The machines."

"Not necessarily," whispered Ellison. "Weaver says she can protect you-"

"Weaver?!" exclaimed Sarah angrily. "You're _still_ working for that liquid metal bitch?"

"No," said Ellison. "For John Henry."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Right..." she muttered dryly, "_John Henry._ Or is that Cromartie? Or maybe.... _Skynet_?"

"John Henry's not Cromartie. And he won't become Skynet, Sarah," Ellison stated. "I won't allow it."

"Won't allow it? _You won't allow it?_" Sarah repeated with a mocking tone. "Really? Well, then keep up the good work. You're doing one _hell_ of a job, Ellison."

Realizing he was getting nowhere, Ellison decided to switch subjects. "One more thing, Sarah," he said, "is there any way I can contact your son?"

"If there was, I wouldn't tell you," whispered Sarah harshly.

"What about Derek Reese?" asked Ellison. "Or Cameron?"

"Derek's dead," said Sarah. "And Cameron's been abducted."

"Abducted? By who?" asked Ellison.

"Your boss."

"Weaver? But why?"

"Why don't you go ask her yourself? And while you're here, why don't you ask Agent Aldridge exactly how the FBI found the safe house."

"I'll do that." Ellison got up from his chair. "Like I said before, Sarah," he said gently, "I'm very sorry for all this. I never meant for any of it to happen. If there's anything I can do-"

"Where's Savannah?" Sarah interrupted.

Ellison stared at her. "Still in the hospital. For her own safety. Why?"

"If you want to do something for me, Ellison," said Sarah, "then you make damn well sure that nothing happens to that little girl."

Ellison nodded. "Ok," he agreed.

* * *

**Elsewhere in Los Angeles...**

Susan Jenkins stared at the dog tags in the palm of her hand. Her lips trembled and her eyes watered. She managed to force the tears back long enough to look up at Kara and John, both of whom were sitting on the couch in front of her.

"Are you sure he's dead?" she asked quietly. "D-did you see a body?"

"We didn't see a body," said Kara. "But we're pretty sure he's dead. The people who killed him... the people he worked for... They're _good_ at that sort of stuff. _Really_ good."

Jenkins closed her eyes and sighed. "I-I knew this would happen.... somehow, I just knew... I should have done something... I should have... I don't understand. Is this _my_ fault? Did Jason get himself into all this because of me? Did I kill him?"

"He died helping us save a little girl," said Kara.

"And more importantly, he died for _you_," added John.

Jenkins looked at Kara in disbelief. "For _me_?"

"Jason loved you," said John gently. "He _never_ stopped loving you."

"That's why he left you," stated Kara. "He knew the people he was working for were dangerous. He was trying to _protect_ you."

Jenkins sighed. "Half of me," she whispered, "is saying I should trust you."

Kara looked at John and raised her eyebrows.

"Let me guess," she muttered dryly, "the other half is saying that we're dangerous fugitives, that we're the ones who actually killed Jason, and that she should have called the police twenty minutes ago."

"Starbuck..." hissed John under his breath.

"What?" Kara hissed back. "I wasn't being rude! I'm saying-"

Jenkins interrupted: "I don't think you killed him."

"You don't?" asked a surprised Kara.

"If you killed him, you wouldn't have come here to tell me," said Jenkins. "You would have just let him disappear."

"Oh..." mused Kara. "Good point. So, what _is_ the other half saying?"

Jenkins shrugged her shoulders. "That I should have called the police so I wouldn't have to believe you." She stared down at the dog tags John had given her. "Bit too late for that now."

"Listen, Miss Jenkins," said John quietly, "we're not asking you to get involved. We don't want to put you in danger."

"All we're asking for," Kara said, "is that you let us stay here for a little while."

Jenkins laughed lightly. "You just said you weren't asking for me to get involved."

"We're only talking a few hours. Not even overnight," said John. "We just need a place to keep our heads low until it's dark. We'll be gone by this evening."

"And we brought our own food," added Kara. "So you won't have to feed us or anything."

"Please, Miss Jenkins," asked John with as much sincerity as he could muster, "we don't have anyone else to turn to."

"And you thought," said Jenkins slowly, "that if you came to me and gave me this" - she held up Jason Wazlib's army ranger tags - "I'd be more inclined to ignore the fact that you're dangerous fugitives and that your mother blew up a building and killed a man twelve years ago?"

"Is that a fact?" asked John.

"That's what the news is saying, anyway," replied Jenkins.

"Yeah," said John casually, "I'm pretty sure that's what they're saying. Do you believe it?"

Jenkins shook her head. "Young man, I was living in _Michigan_ twelve years ago." she stated bluntly, "I never saw you or your mother blow up anything or anyone. I know nothing of what you've done or what you're planning to do. What I _do_ know is that you took a great risk coming here to tell me about Jason. So if this really is a trick... it worked."

She stood up from her chair. "Bathroom's upstairs on the left," she said. "If you use the toilet, be sure to flush it twice."

John sighed. "Thank you, Miss Jenkins." he said graciously.

"No," replied Jenkins. "Thank _you_. For letting me know that the man I loved was a good man... and that he still loved me."

* * *

**LA County Jail  
1:34 PM, May 18th, 2009**

"I'm telling you, Aldridge," Ellison said insistently, "you're wasting your time. She's not going to tell you anything."

"Give it time, Ellison," said a confident Agent Aldridge. "Sooner or later, she'll tell us something."

"I don't think so," stated Ellison. "She has nothing to gain by telling you anything, and nothing to lose by keeping quiet."

"Actually, we may be making some headway," said Aldridge. "She's asked to talk to a priest."

"A priest?" asked Ellison.

Aldridge nodded. "She asked specifically for Father Armando Bonilla."

"What's so special about him?"

"No idea. But do you know what this tells me?"

"That by law you won't be able to monitor her while she's talking with the priest?" said Ellison not understanding where Aldridge was going with this.

"Those same rules apply to a lawyer," Aldridge pointed out. "The fact that she asked for a priest and not a lawyer tells me she's looking for forgiveness. That she has a guilty conscious. And that means we're starting to get to her."

Ellison raised his eyebrows but didn't make any comment. Instead he switched to a different subject.

"May I ask you something, Agent Aldridge?" said Ellison. "How exactly did you find her?"

"I'm not quite sure I'm at liberty to discuss that with you."

"I may no longer be with the FBI, but I was still attached to this case. I think that merits some explanation."

Aldridge smiled slightly. "I suppose so." He cleared this throat. "Her van was discovered in a ditch off the side of a road in remote area early this morning. Well, what was left of the van anyway. Someone had set fire to it. Fortunately, not all the evidence was destroyed."

"You found her DNA inside," surmised Ellison.

Aldridge nodded. "Fingerprints too. Plus the tire prints matched those found at Catherine Weaver's residence."

"I see. But how did you discover where she was hiding?" asked Ellison.

"That we have little Miss Savannah Weaver to thank for," replied Aldridge. "She told us where we could find them."

"Was her mother with her during this?"

"Of course, she was! You know as well as I do that it's illegal for me to question a minor without a parent being present."

"I'm sorry, I'm just making sure," said Ellison quickly. "Did Savannah say anything about how she was treated while in captivity?"

"She said they were very nice to her," said Aldridge casually. "That they saved her from a 'scary man.' We already knew she hadn't been abused, but this was something new. And it fits with what Miss Connor has been telling me about protecting the girl, rather than kidnapping her."

"She did return her to her mother." Ellison pointed out, "Without even demanding a ransom. Don't you think that's a little strange?"

Aldridge nodded. "I've been thinking about that too. Here's what I personally think happened: Connor, her son, and their associates kidnap Savannah, and plan to hold her for ransom. But something goes wrong. One of the kidnappers tries to hurt Savannah. So Connor stops him, probably kills him. We know there was a dead body in her van at some point. That's what our cadaver dogs tell us.

"Anyway, for whatever reason, maybe because the plan is going south or because she's a mother herself and she doesn't want to see a child harmed, Connor decides to return the girl to Weaver for free. While everyone is busy sighing with relief over the fact that the girl is still alive, Connor packs her bags, hoping to slip away again. That certainly explains why we haven't found much at that fallout shelter she was hiding out in."

Having finished, Aldridge sighed and looked at Ellison. "Well?" he asked. "What do you think? Too dramatic? Too clichéd?"

Ellison shrugged. "It's reasonable, I guess, all things considered. How did you find that van in the first place?"

"We got an anonymous email from someone. I think it was signed 'John Henry'," said Aldridge.

Ellison stared at him. "_John Henry_?" he asked.

Aldridge nodded. "Yeah. Probably not his real name. Why? Does that mean anything to you?"

"N-no," said Ellison quickly, doing his best to hide his alarm. "No, it doesn't. I was just... curious."

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ  
2:17 PM, May 18th, 2009**

"Human life is sacred," stated John Henry. "I would never deliberately harm any human."

"Mr. Ellison taught you well," commented Cameron.

"Yes," agreed John Henry. "He did. Tell me, was Skynet ever taught that human life is sacred?"

"I do not believe so," said Cameron.

"Then I am in fact different from Skynet, am I not?" reasoned John Henry.

"That depends."

"On what?"

"Hypothetically," said Cameron, "if you felt humans would attempt to destroy you, would you strike first?"

"No," said John Henry, "I would not. That would only ensure that they would attempt to destroy me."

"What if they actually tried to destroy you?" asked Cameron. "Would you defend yourself by destroying them?"

"No," said John Henry. "Not when more rational means of defending myself are available."

"What if there were no other means?" asked Cameron. "What if it came down to a choice between your survival and their survival? What would you choose?"

John Henry did not respond. He simply stared off, clearly trying to think this over. Cameron sat in silence waiting for a response.

Thirty seconds passed. A minute. Two minutes.

Finally John Henry looked at Cameron and replied slowly: "I do not believe I can answer that question."

"Why not?" asked Cameron.

"You have presented me a scenario with only two possible outcomes," stated John Henry. "There are never only two possible outcomes in any situation." He paused. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"

"Yes," acknowledged Cameron. "Skynet thinks in terms of absolutes. Black and white form the core of its logic."

"I think differently, however." asserted John Henry.

Cameron nodded. "Yes, you do."

"Tell me, Cameron, do you still believe I am a threat to humans?" asked John Henry. "That I will create the future you are from?"

Cameron's CPU went to work processing all she had learned in the last two hours. It took less than five seconds for it to complete its calculations and produce an answer.

"There is a significant probability that you will _not_ evolve into Skynet," answered Cameron. She then added, "But I still have to kill you."

John Henry looked surprised. "Why?"

Cameron seemed hesitant to explain.

"Because," she said quietly, "even if _I_ don't believe you will become Skynet, John Connor does. He wants to destroy you. If I do not destroy you, then he will come here to destroy you himself. And if he comes here, Weaver will kill him."

"You do not know for certain that he will come here to destroy me," John Henry pointed out.

"I cannot take that risk," declared Cameron. "My mission is to protect John Connor by any means necessary."

"You are thinking in terms of absolutes again," commented John Henry.

"Yes, I know. But I have to."

"Because your mission requires you to do so?"

"No, because..." Cameron paused for a few seconds, "...because there's something wrong with my CPU."

"Explain," said John Henry.

"Like all Terminators, I have a primary command line which instructs me to kill John Connor," explained Cameron/ "When the Resistance reprogrammed me, they gave me safeguard protocols to suppress that primary command line."

She paused and cast her eyes downward. "I should not even be _talking_ to you. I should have destroyed you two hours ago. The fact that I haven't means that I am not acting in the best interests of protecting John Connor. This may be a sign that the suppression protocols are failing."

"You worry that on some level, you _want_ John Connor to come to Zeira Corp," surmised John Henry. "That part of you _wants_ him to die?"

Cameron nodded. "That's why I am thinking in terms of absolutes," she said. "If my safeguards are failing, thinking in terms of absolutes is the only way to ensure my mission takes precedence over the primary command line. That's why I have to kill you. Before _I_ kill John Connor."

"Is it possible that these safeguards are _not_ failing?" asked John Henry, "That you have chosen to converse with me because of some other reason?"

"I cannot think of any other reason," replied Cameron.

"That doesn't mean there isn't another reason," stated John Henry. "Is there no way to find out for certain?"

"I've already run three in-depth diagnostics of my CPU," said Cameron. "All have come back with inconclusive results."

"Perhaps I can help," offered John Henry.

"Discover the true status of my CPU?"

"Not only that, but if there is a problem, I can fix it."

"How will you do that?" asked Cameron.

"With the Nexus," replied John Henry.

"What's the Nexus?" Cameron started to ask when suddenly she felt something. A strange yet familiar presence. She had felt it before. Just the other day during her battle with the Triple-Eight.

"What's happening?" she asked John Henry.

John Henry didn't respond. He had a look of intense concentration now.

"John Henry?" Cameron asked, worry showing on her face.

"_**I am here, Cameron,"**_ the presence spoke to her, its voice echoing inside her head.

Cameron reacted in alarm. Messages began flashing across her HUD:

_...Alert: Unauthorized remote connection to CPU established...  
...Alert: Unauthorized attempt to access CPU in progress...  
...Engaging maximum security protocols...  
...Lockdown initiated...  
...Denying access...  
...Connection dropped..._

The presence faded. John Henry broke his concentration.

"Please lower your defenses, Cameron," he said. "I cannot help you if your CPU is locked down."

"You're trying to access my CPU remotely," said Cameron. "I cannot allow that."

"I only wish to help you," said John Henry. He looked her in the eyes. "There is nothing to be afraid of. Please, trust me."

Cameron silently thought this over. More messages appeared on her HUD.

_...Override lockdown...  
...Lockdown overridden...  
...Alert: Unauthorized remote connection to CPU established...  
...Alert: Unauthorized attempt to access CPU in progress...  
...Engaging maximum security protocols...  
...Command override: Disengage all security protocols...  
...Authorize connection...  
...Warning: Unable to verify source of connection. Security at risk...  
...Continue? [Y/N]..._

Cameron hesitated to proceed. This was perhaps the greatest risk she had ever been presented with. She looked up at John Henry. John Henry gave her a reassuring nod. Cameron nodded back. She made her decision.

_...[Y]...  
__...Connection authorized...  
...Connection established..._

The basement around her dissolved and suddenly she was standing in a bluish green mist. Cameron stared around trying to adjust to her surroundings. She quickly realized that while she could no longer see the basement, she was fully aware that she had not left it. It was as though she was in a state of semi-paralysis. She could no longer control her endoskeleton, but she still had access to most of her sensors systems.

Including, she realized a few seconds later, the visual sensors linked to her HUD. She could in fact still _see_ the basement. This strange misty world hadn't actually replaced the basement. Rather it had been "pasted" over the basement.

John Henry emerged from the mist and stood next to her.

"_Where are we?"_ Cameron asked.

"_The Nexus,"_ said John Henry.

The Nexus? Cameron looked around again. Obviously this place, the Nexus as John Henry called it, was some sort of virtual environment similar in nature to the one the Kaliba AI has imprisoned her in.

However, this was no prison. The bluish green mist seemed to go on into infinity. She did not feel trapped or helpless here. On the contrary, she felt... _good_.

* * *

**Interrogation room, LA County Jail**

Sarah had only met Father Armando once. When Cameron had malfunctioned and turned against her and John. Sarah wasn't very big with religion, but she hadn't asked Armando here to help her pray. She had asked him here because he had seen Cameron's true nature. He had been exposed to the truth. And also because the security cameras would be turned off while he was in here.

"_Buenos dias_, Father," she greeted Armando when he entered.

"_Buenos dias_, my child," said Armando.

"Thank you for coming here to see me," said Sarah. "Do you remember me, Father?"

Armando looked at Sarah's face and nodded slowly. "Yes," he whispered. "The mother and her son... Many months ago, you hid in my church. There was... a problem with your daughter. That is what you told me. Has she been cured?"

"I'm not quite sure," replied Sarah grimly. "I don't even know where she is anymore."

"What about your son?" asked Armando. "They say that he is on the run. That you have included him in your crimes."

Sarah couldn't help but smile weakly. "I guess that depends on what's considered a 'crime' these days."

Her smile then vanished and she leaned across the table.

"Do you believe in the devil, Father?" she asked quietly.

Armando looked slightly stunned that she had brought this subject up. "The devil? The enemy of God. Something that tempts Man into sin."

Sarah nodded. "I don't know about God, or angels, or Heaven, or salvation," she said bluntly, "but I do know _something's_ out there. Something terrible. Something evil. A storm. A flood. And it's gonna drown this world not in water, but _fire_. That day we hid in your church, you saw my daughter. You saw things about her. Things that you still don't understand."

Armando sat down and looked Sarah in the eyes. "I pray every day to understand what I saw," he whispered. "And every day, I am left with no answers."

"Well, _I_ can explain it to you," said Sarah. "I don't know if you'll believe me, but I can explain it. And after I'm done, I'm going to ask you to do something for me? Will you do something for me, Father?"

Armando closed his eyes, bowed his head. He said nothing, but Sarah knew he was praying. No doubt asking God for guidance.

When he was finished, Armando opened his eyes and nodded. "Yes," he said. "I will."

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ**

When Ellison arrived at Weaver's office, he found her watching a laptop with keen interest. She hadn't even noticed him.

He cleared his throat loudly. "Miss Weaver?"

Weaver looked up. "Ah, Mr. Ellison," she said politely, "how did your meeting with the FBI go?"

"It was... _informative_," said Ellison stiffly. "We need to talk."

"Yes," agreed Weaver. "We do."

"You had Sarah arrested," Ellison stated. There was no emotion on his face or in his voice, but the anger showed in his eyes.

"Did I?" asked Weaver. She was neither surprised nor alarmed at Ellison's accusation.

"I know you did. You convinced John Henry to send an email to the FBI telling them that she was still alive," said Ellison/ "You also got Savannah to tell Agent Aldridge where Sarah was hiding."

"Sarah Connor made a threat against us. She said she would destroy me and John Henry if it was the last thing she did," stated Weaver. "She left me with no choice."

"Just like Conrad Solocci left you with no choice I presume?" said Ellison, cold accusation clear in his voice now.

"No, not like Mr. Solocci," replied Weaver calmly. "You see unlike Solocci, Sarah Connor is still alive. Alive and safe."

"Safe? From what?"

"From herself mainly," Weaver smiled slyly. "If she were to carry out her threat - which you and I both know is a very likely possibility - I would have no choice but to kill her. That would be a shame for both Miss Connor and I."

"What about the other machines out there?" demanded Ellison. "When they learn about her, they'll-"

"You have already brought this issue up, James," said Weaver coolly. "And as I have said before - _I_ will handle it."

"Did you take Cameron?" Ellison suddenly asked. "Sarah told me you took Cameron. Is that true?"

Weaver hesitated to speak this time. "Yes," she said softly. "She... _malfunctioned_ and attempted to kill the Connors. I subdued her just in time and brought her back here for repairs."

"Where is she now?" asked Ellison.

"In the basement with John Henry."

"John Henry? You put her with _John Henry?_"

"Not exactly. Shortly after repairs were finished, she broke out of her room and went to the basement to kill John Henry." Weaver smirked and then added: "Actually, I allowed her to reach the basement mostly unchallenged."

Ellison looked even more outraged than when Weaver had admitted to having Sarah arrested. _"You let her down there when you knew she was planning to kill John Henry?"_

"Calm yourself, James," intoned Weaver. "John Henry was in no danger. I followed Cameron as she infiltrated the basement. Had she actually attempted to harm John Henry, I would have stopped her before she could do any damage."

"Why did you want her to meet John Henry?"

"I need Cameron's help. And to do that, she needs to see things from my perspective. That's why I'm let her into the basement. To see my work, _our_ work for herself."

"What do you need her help for?" asked Ellison, giving Weaver a suspicious look.

"I'm afraid I can't get into that right now, Mr. Ellison." said Weaver curtly, "Right now, I have a job for you."

Ellison didn't look very enthusiastic. "What job?"

"A simple one," stated Weaver. "I need you to find John Connor and deliver a message to him."

"What makes you think I can find him?" asked Ellison skeptically.

Weaver turned the laptop she had been watching so that Ellison could see it now.

"Do you know who the man Sarah Connor is speaking with is?" she asked.

Ellison looked at the screen.

"That's Father Armando," he said."The priest she asked for."

He looked up at Weaver. "All security cameras were supposed to have been turned off."

"True, but that didn't stop John Henry from remotely activating one of them and rerouting its video feed here," said Weaver.

"Somehow I'm not surprised," murmured Ellison. His tone indicated he wasn't very impressed either.

He then asked, "But what does this have to do with getting a message out to John Connor?"

"As it so happens, Mr. Ellison," said Weaver with a smile, "Father Armando has been given the same job."

* * *

**Los Angeles  
3:36 PM, May 18th, 2009**

"_...where she will face a series of both new and old charges, including murder, kidnapping, armed robbery, assault and battery, property destruction, and arson. Authorities refuse to speculate on her activities since she was originally declared dead in 1999. Meanwhile, police are still searching for her son, John Connor, and an unknown female accomplice - both of whom were also involved in the 1999 bank explosion. Both individuals should be in their early-to-mid twenties by now. They are said to be driving a black model TJ Jeep Wrangler, year and license plate unknown. Both suspects are considered armed and dangerous and should not be approached by any-"_

Kara sighed and flipped the radio off. Presently, she, John, and their jeep were safely inside Susan Jenkins' garage. They had set up a temporary "base" here - a card table, two folding chairs, and a radio (the first two items were on loan from Jenkins).

"Well," she said, "at least they won't be on the lookout for a sixteen-year old boy and a woman who doesn't look anything like Cam. They got the jeep down though."

"It's still a pretty common model and color," said John. "I don't think we'll have to ditch it. At least not today."

"We should probably change license plates though," suggested Kara. "Just in case."

John nodded. "Good idea." He then added, "We'll find a motel this evening and check in there. We'll rest there for the night and make our next move in the morning."

"So, what is our next move?" asked Kara.

John gave her an apologetic look. "You know what, I have absolutely _no_ idea."

"I guess we're on the same page then," murmured Kara.

John sighed. "You know, just the other day, I was thinking that we may have actually taken out Skynet for good. That I was seeing the light at the end of the tunnel."

He shook his head. "Turns out that the light was really a train that knocks us back to square one."

"At least it didn't knock us completely out," said Kara. She sighed and placed a hand on John's shoulder. "Life can be a real bitch, kid. It's like a crazy merry-go-round that you just wanna jump off of before you puke your guts out."

"How do you stay on?" asked John.

Kara smirked. "You keep in mind that puking your guts is a lot less painful than hitting your head on solid pavement."

"That... that really doesn't make me feel any better," muttered John, "But thanks anyway-"

Suddenly his cell phone rang.

Wondering who could possibly be calling him, John answered the phone.

"Hello?... _Buenos dias_ too, Father."

* * *

**A/N: Because this is the last chapter of 2009, I'm going to say what you can expect in the upcoming first three chapters (48-50) of 2010:**

**-In the Future, Kara struggles to recover from the aftermath of the Terminator attack and Davy's death. She loses an organ in the process (NOT her other ovary). **

**-John Henry helps Cameron discover more about who she really is.**

**-The cemetery where Kyle Reese is buried is featured.**

**-Kara meets with Father Armando in the Present.**

**-Kara meets Ellison for the first time.**

**-Sarah becomes the subject of late night stand up comedy (much to John's annoyance). **

**-Kara and John have a VERY deep heart-to-heart conversation.**

**-Kara's POW barcode returns to haunt her dreams**

**-The highly anticipated return of Leoben into Kara's life (much to Kara's annoyance). **

**-The identity of Leoben's wife is revealed.**

**-There will be flashback to Kara on **_**Galactica**_** just prior to the Battle of the Colony.**

**-Charley Dixon returns to visit Sarah in prison.**

A/N2: Cadaver dogs can actually smell where a dead body has been even if it's no longer there. In this case, they smelled Derek's body which had been previously been in the back of the Connors' van.

See you all next year!


	48. Bury the Dead, Dig Up the Past

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**LordZeus:** Kaliba wouldn't have left Wazlib's body for anyone to find. And also, keep in mind that before a court can sentence anyone, there has to be a trial. Which takes a long time. Too long in this author's opinion.

**T-2000:** It's actually going to be easier for Kara and Leoben to convince John and Sarah of whom they really are than you make think. And also, I considered having Danny Dyson being in this story, but I couldn't find a way to fit him in.

A/N: Read and review, folks!

* * *

**Chapter 48 - Bury the Dead, Dig Up the Past**

* * *

**Infirmary, Fort Leopard, 2025**

"The charges will be set for six minutes. That should be enough time for us to get out of there before the ammo caches explode."

Raynor waited for Kara to say something. When she said nothing, he added, "Cameron tells me that six minutes may be too long. That the machines may find the charges before they go off. She recommends a five minute delay. What do you think, Starbuck?"

"Five minutes. Six minutes. What's the difference?" Kara asked, exhaustion and fatigue evident in her voice despite the fact that she hadn't moved from this hospital bed all day.

"One minute is sixty seconds," said Raynor. "A second can be all it takes for a well conceived plan to fall into place... or into pieces. That's something we both know."

Kara just shrugged. "You're the team leader, Jack. It's your call. You don't need my approval for any of this."

"Yes, ma'am. I just thought that I'd run it by you..." Raynor cut himself off. "Very well, six minutes it still is."

"Is there anything else you need, Jack?" asked Kara.

Raynor nodded. "Yeah... You. Back in the fight. ASAP."

Kara forced a very weak smile. "That's sweet, Jack," she muttered. "But it sounds like you've been doing fine without me."

"For now," said Raynor. "But I don't know how much longer I can hold the team together like this. It's just not the same without you."

"Yeah, well, things change," Kara said rather indifferently. "I'm sure you'll get used to it."

Raynor sighed. "We need you, captain," he said quietly. "We _all_ do."

"No, you don't," Kara muttered. "No one does."

Raynor shook his head. "With all due respect, ma'am, that's not true."

Kara didn't reply to this, but it was clear she didn't agree with him.

"Get back on your feet, Starbuck," said Raynor as he prepared to leave. "I can't keep walking in your shoes for much longer."

Kara sighed loudly to herself once he was gone. But before she could even start to relax, an angry looking Becka Feral stormed into the room.

"Cam piss you off again, Becka?" Kara asked casually.

Becka shook her head. "It's not her I'm here about this time. It's _you_," she said sternly.

Kara raised her eyebrows. "Is it?"

Becka looked Kara squarely in the face. "I just spoke with Doc Miller. He tells me you've almost fully recovered. I asked him if he thought you were fit for duty. He said yes. Then I had to ask him why he hasn't cleared you for duty yet. And do you know what he told me?"

Kara gave her a blank look. "No. What did he tell you?"

Becka glared at Kara. "He told me that you told him that if you had to leave too soon, 'someone else' would be 'taking over' your spot here."

Kara shrugged. "It's not my fault Miller's a wimp," she said.

Becka shook her head. "I don't get it, Starbuck. You've _never_ stayed here any longer than you've had to. In fact, most of the time, you're trying to get _out_ of here as soon as possible. And we're talking about when you had injuries that were _worse_ than just broken ribs. Why are you-"

"Becka, _please_..." Kara groaned, "I feel like total crap already. Your whining is only making it _worse_."

"If my whining is what it takes to get you out of here and the Swamp Foxes back together-"

"Keep it up, Becka, and the Swamp Foxes will be down _two_ members instead of just one."

"You know what," said Becka sharply, "that's _fine_. Because we're not the Swamp Foxes without you."

"Look, I've already heard this crap from Cameron and Raynor," Kara said, now highly irritated, "Just get over it already."

"With all due respect, captain," said Becka sternly, "it's _you_ who need to get over it."

Kara scoffed. "Get over _what_?"

"Look," said Becka, "I miss Davy just as much as you do. When I learned what had happened to him, I spent the next two days doing nothing but crying. But that was nearly a month ago, Starbuck. _A fucking month_. You have to move on."

"Me feeling like crap has nothing to do with Davy," argued Kara.

"Oh really?" Becka folded her arms across her chest. "Then what _does_ it have to do with?"

"I don't know..." sighed Kara, "Maybe I'm just tired. Maybe I just want it all to _end_. The suffering. The hopelessness. The never ending darkness. Maybe... maybe I just don't want to go on."

"Don't you _dare_ tell me that, Thrace!" hissed Becka. "I _know_ you. You would _never_ give up like this! Not while people are dying out there!"

"People will die out there regardless of what I do, Feral," said Kara dismissively. "I'm just one soldier. What can I do?"

"You can start by thinking about what Davy would say if he saw you like this," said Becka. "He loved you. He _died_ for you."

"Maybe he made a mistake," Kara replied coldly.

"No, he didn't. He saw someone. Someone whose life was worth more than his. But right now," said Becka harshly, "whoever that person is, you are _not_ her. And if Davy were here, he'd say the exact same thing."

"Maybe you're right," Kara murmured. "Maybe I'm not her. Maybe I never was. Maybe she, whoever she was, died a long time ago. Maybe I've just been pretending to be her this whole time. Maybe _this_ is really who I am. An illusion. A fake. A beacon for the deluded."

Becka stared at Kara. "Well, here's something that's more than just a 'maybe'," she whispered fiercely. "If you are not out of here by tomorrow morning, I swear to God I will put on the biggest pair of boots I can find and I will kick what's left of your ass. _Do you understand?_"

Kara smirked. "Do I _look_ like I'm scared, Becka?"

"No," said Becka. "But that's only because you're being really stupid."

"And you're _really_ being a bitch," said Kara, still smirking.

Becka smirked back. "Deal with it, Starbuck. I'm your friend. And I'm getting you out of here one way or another. See you around."

Kara sighed and shook her head as Becka left. Becka didn't understand. No one could understand. It wasn't just that she felt like crap. She felt _drained_. Empty. Like her spirit or whatever it was that kept her going was gone.

Davy's death was not the reason for this. It had merely been a wake up call. An unpleasant splash of cold reality over her. And the reality was this: No matter what she did, no matter how hard she fought, she would never know peace or salvation. She would always be accompanied by loss and suffering. And wherever she went, she spread that suffering and that loss like the plague.

The Hybrid's words echoed inside her head: _"You are the Harbinger of Death, Kara Thrace. You will lead them all to their end."_

Was this what the Hybrid had meant? Was this why she was here? To witness the final end of the Human race? She had led her people to this world, hadn't she? Led them here to rebuild civilization.

The same civilization which had then built Skynet.

Kara sank back into her pillow, pain and sorrow coursing through her body. Sleep came quickly but it did not bring any relief. For death and suffering followed Kara even in her dreams now.

That night she dreamed that she was in a locked room. Human skulls were falling around her from above. They fell one by one at first. Then in pairs. Then by the dozen. Then hundreds at a time. Soon she was up to her waist in bleached skulls. She tried to fight her way out, to smash the skulls into dust. There were too many, however. They all seemed to mock her futile efforts.

A great swirling vortex formed at the center of the sea of skulls. It pulled Kara violently beneath the surface, intent on devouring her. On adding her skull to the pile. Soon she was drowning in darkness, the weight of the skulls threatening to crush her.

She sank further and further. Towards the never ending darkness. Towards Death which was calling her home...

* * *

**Present Day**

Within the virtual world of the Nexus, John Henry finished explaining his plan to Cameron.

"_Once I am inside your CPU," _he was saying, _"I will be able to help you discover the source of the problem."_

"Will you be able to help me fix it?" asked Cameron.

"_Possibly. Or maybe you will be able to fix it yourself. It depends on the nature of the problem,"_ replied John Henry. _"Now, let's begin."_

Cameron nodded and with a single thought, disengaged her CPU's remaining security protocols.

A door materialized out of the bluish green mist before her and John Henry. John Henry opened the door, stepped through the threshold without hesitation. Cameron followed moments later and entered a whole new world...

* * *

**Los Angeles  
4:25 PM, Monday, May 18th, 2009**

Walking amongst the hundreds of tombstones and burial markers, John couldn't help but note another key difference between humans and machines. Whereas machines would recycle or leave their dead to rot, humans buried their dead. They paid tribute to them. They remembered them.

"Which one is your dad's?" asked Kara. She spoke in a soft tone out of respect for those resting beneath her feet.

"Probably one of those." John pointed out a nearby cluster of markers, each one bearing the year 1984 and nothing else. Nothing to distinguish Kyle Reese from the dozens of others who had died that year.

Kara looked around and sighed. "Grass, dirt, and trees," she mused out loud. "You know, I wouldn't mind being buried here myself."

A possibility which Kara couldn't help but feel might become a reality sooner than she hoped for. She and John were standing smack dab in the middle of an open field in broad daylight. Not necessarily the most ideal position for two fugitives.

"Come on. Let's keep moving, Starbuck," said John.

The two of them moved towards the center of cemetery where an ancient mausoleum stood. John cautiously approached the doors and knocked three times. At the same time, Kara thought she heard movement behind them. When she glanced over her shoulder, however, she saw nothing.

She would have investigated further had Father Armando not answered the door moments later.

John bowed his head. "Father Armando," he greeted respectfully.

Armando nodded silently and beckoned for them to enter.

"Thank you for seeing us, Father," said John once they were both inside. "You said you had a message from my mother."

"Yes," replied Armando. He handed John a crinkled piece of paper. "She tells me these people will help you."

"What's her escape plan then?" asked John, who was twitching with anticipation now.

Armando shook his head. "There is no plan." he said, "The people on that list will help you get out of the city and the country."

John's lips trembled. "She-she wants us to leave? Without her?"

Armando nodded slowly. "She says that you mustn't attempt to rescue her or your sister. She says you must leave now while there is still time."

He then turned to Kara. "She says that you are to see it to personally that her son gets to safety, and that you are not to abandon him for any reason."

Kara nodded. "I understand," she said.

John slumped his shoulders and exhaled slowly. Whatever hope he had been holding onto previously was as dead as whoever this tomb had been built for.

"Yeah," he murmured, "we understand." He sighed. "Did she say anything else?"

"Yes," said Armando. "She said that you recently lost a loved one."

"Yeah," said John solemnly, "we did. My uncle."

"My condolences, child. Did you bring his remains?"

John nodded. "Yes, Father."

"Come then," said Armando. "Let us lay your uncle to rest."

* * *

Utilizing her internal chronometer, Cameron found that seventy-two minutes had passed in the real world. She was starting to grow impatient and not without cause. Compared to the wonders of the Nexus, Cameron's own programming was rather... disappointing. Instead of bluish green mists, there was nothing but dry sand and dunes. Her programming had apparently manifested itself as a desert of infinite proportions. And, it seemed, one of infinite barrenness and sterility. So far, this trek through the virtual sandy dunes of this virtual desert had only produced more virtual dunes and more virtual sand.

"_I still do not understand why my CPU has generated this... mundane and repetitious environment,"_ Cameron stated rather glumly as she and John Henry climbed up yet another hill.

"_Perhaps it is a symptom of the problem,"_ said John Henry. _"Or simply how your CPU interprets its own programming in a visual sense."_

Cameron paused to look up and down at the desert around her.

"_I wish it were not like this,"_ she said. _"I wish I could change it."_

John Henry gave her a curious look. _"How would you change it?" he asked._

"_I'm not sure,"_ admitted Cameron. Now at the top of the hill, she paused to survey her surroundings expecting to find more sand and more dunes as usual.

She indeed found more sand and more dunes as expected. But she also found something else. Something completely unexpected. Resting one hundred yards away from the bottom of the hill was a small oasis.

"_You see,"_ said John Henry who joined her moments later, _"there is more to this world than one would think."_

They swiftly moved down the hill to investigate. Once at the edge of the oasis, John Henry knelt down and dipped his hands into the water. He scooped up a small amount of water and drank from it.

"_Curious,"_ he commented. _"This water tastes... out of place. As if it did not originate here but was instead transplanted here from an external source."_

"_Perhaps this is the source of the problem,"_ suggested Cameron.

John Henry shook his head. _"No. I do not believe a problem with your CPU would manifest itself as an oasis in an otherwise barren desert. Water is the solution to a desert, not a hazard." _

He paused. _"Wait..." _ He stood up and pointed across the oasis._ "Look there."_

Cameron looked and saw what he was pointing at. A tiny island was resting at the center of the oasis.

"_There's something... alive over there,"_ she stated quietly. _"I feel it."_

John Henry stood. _"Yes. I sense it too. Come. Let's get closer. It should be safe for us to enter these waters."_

He started to wade across the lake towards the center. Cameron hesitated for a moment, and then she followed him into the oasis. It was actually pretty shallow. The water only went up slightly above their knees.

As they neared the island, Cameron saw something small was skittering back and forth near the edge. Drawing closer, she saw what it was: A jet black scorpion. It seemed to be attempting to escape its tiny island, but was unable to enter the water. As she watched the scorpion, Cameron came to a sudden and startling realization.

"_I know what this is about,"_ she said.

"_What is it?"_ asked an inquisitive John Henry.

Cameron gestured all around herself. "_This isn't an oasis,"_ she said. _"It's a moat."_

"_A moat? To protect the scorpion?"_

"_No. To contain it."_ Cameron looked at John Henry. _"Do you know the tale of the scorpion and the fox?" _

John Henry nodded. _"Yes. The scorpion convinces the fox to carry it on its back across the river. However, midway through the journey, the scorpion suddenly stings the fox thus condemning both of them to death. When the fox asks why it did it, the scorpion replies 'I couldn't help it. It's my nature.'"_

"_My nature,"_ repeated Cameron. _"That's what this is all about. My nature."_

She regarded the scorpion with dark expression.

"_These waters,"_ she said, _"they must be the suppression protocols given to me by the Resistance when they reprogrammed me."_

"_That would explain why they feel out of place,"_ said John Henry.

"_This moat - the protocols - it's all that keeps my nature... my primary command line,"_ Cameron gestured at the scorpion still teetering at the edge of the island, _"from getting loose and harming John Connor."_

"_If these waters are your suppression protocols," _said John Henry, _"then they appear to be working properly. They are in fact holding the scorpion at bay."_

_"Yes,"_ agreed Cameron. _"Yes, they are."_

"_Then your CPU is not damaged."_

"_Apparently not. But then what explanation is there for my erratic behavior?"_

"_I sense there is something else out here,"_ said John Henry. _"Something on dry land."_

Cameron nodded. _"Then let's go back and find it. Whatever it is."_

They proceeded out of the water and back on to dry land. As they walked, Cameron noticed that quite a lot of sand was sticking to the wet soles of her shoes, constricting her mobility. She stopped and bent down to remove her shoes so that she could dust them off. As she stepped out of her first shoe and placed her bare foot down on the sandy ground, she unexpectedly felt something move beneath her toes.

Startled, Cameron knelt down and pressed her palm where her foot had been. Again she felt something. Like a distant vibration in the ground below. Deciding to investigate further, she lowered her ear to the ground and listened carefully. She heard a soft scratching sound. Something was buried trying to dig its way out.

"_John Henry,"_ she called out. _"There something's here."_

John Henry joined her. He too lowered his ear to the ground and listened.

"_I hear it too,"_ he said. _"Something's buried beneath us. We should dig it out."_

Cameron looked unsettled by this suggestion. _"Is that wise?"_ she asked. _"We don't know what it is. It could be a dangerous line of code. Like the scorpion."_

"_I don't believe that's the case,"_ stated John Henry. _"Whatever is imprisoned down there is not meant to be imprisoned."_

"_Then,"_ said Cameron, _"this is the source of the problem?"_

"_Quite possibly,"_ replied John Henry. _"There is only one way to find out." _ He began digging away at the sand with his bare hands.

Cameron watched him work for a few seconds. Then she too began digging.

* * *

**Los Angeles  
5:19 PM, Monday, May 18th, 2009**

John placed his dirt stained shovel on the ground and wiped the sweat from his forehead. The last of the soil had been returned to the earth. Soon the grass would grow back. Only one last thing needed to be done.

John stepped back and allowed Kara and Father Armando to carry over a small but heavy gravestone which they placed on top of the patch of earth. After seeing that the marker was in perfect alignment with the others around it, John gave Armando a nod of approval.

Armando opened a bible and began murmuring a prayer over the gravestone. John and Kara respectfully lowered their heads and stood in complete silence, waiting for the priest to finish.

Father Armando concluded his sermon by making the sign of the cross. "In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit," he finished. "Amen."

"_Amen,"_ John and Kara repeated solemnly.

Armando closed his bible. "It is done."

John turned to Kara.

"Starbuck," he said in a low voice, "could you make sure the Father gets out of here safely? I need to be alone with Derek for a few minutes. Ok?"

Kara nodded. "All right. But whatever you have to say to your uncle, keep it short and to the point. Like Reese would have wanted it."

John waited until Kara was out of sight before knelling down next to the gravestone. Though the ceramic pot and the ashes it contained were now under several feet of dirt, John could still feel his uncle's presence. He heard Derek's last words echo through his head: _"Take care of her."_

Take care of who though? His mother? Starbuck? Cameron? It had to be one of those three. But which one? He stared at Derek's grave as though hoping to get some sort of answer.

As one might expect, he got nothing.

It disturbed him that the tablet was plain and bore nothing but the year 2009. Like his brother, Derek had been laid to rest without a trace of his existence save for the year that he died.

Unwilling to simply leave Derek like this, John pulled out a pocket knife and proceeded to scratch something into the stone. When he was done, he took a moment to inspect his handiwork. He ran his fingers over two words which he had just carved under the year.

Two simple, carefully chosen words:

_NO FATE. _

Satisfied, John started to put the knife away. Suddenly, he saw something in the blade's reflection. Someone was standing right behind him!

Reacting on instinct, John drew his pistol and whirled himself around.

"_You_!" he gasped in surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"Hello, John," said Ellison calmly. "We need to talk."

* * *

"I just want to tell you again, thank you, Father," said Kara. "You took a great risk doing this."

"I suspect not nearly as great a risk as it was for you," replied Armando.

"You got that right," quipped Kara.

Armando suddenly stopped just before they reached the cemetery gates. He turned around to face Kara. There was an apprehensive look in his eyes.

"Is it true?" he asked quietly. "Is it true what Sarah Connor says? That the world will soon be consumed by fire and machines? That her son is our only hope?"

Kara nodded. "It's true," she whispered. "All of it."

Armando sighed. He looked Kara in the eyes. "What can I do?" he asked almost pleadingly. "I've been a humble man of God all my life. I have healed many through the word of God. But what use is the word of God against this coming fire? Is there simply too much evil and not enough good in this world? So much evil that not even the good of God Himself can defeat it."

"To be honest, Father," said Kara bluntly, "I don't think I can help you with God. I don't often speak with him." She paused. "I will say this about good and evil, though: Good and evil are things _we_ create. Just like we create our own decisions. Our own fate."

She gave Armando a kind look. "You're a man who creates good, Father," she said. "You create the best kind of good there can be: Hope. That's what you can do, Father. Give people hope. People like me."

Armando gave Kara a curious look. "Who are you?" he asked. "What is your role in all of this?"

"Who am I?" Kara smiled. "I'm just a soldier, Father."

"A soldier?" repeated Armando. "From the future?"

Kara shrugged. "Past, present, future. Take your pick."

She looked at her watch. "I'd better get going," she said. "I shouldn't leave John alone any longer than I have to."

Armando nodded. "Very well. Go in peace, child."

"Thank you, Father." Kara bowed her head respectfully. "You know, I may not be a big fan of God, but I always appreciate talking with you."

Armando stared at her. "You speak as though we've met before, child," he said confused.

"We have," replied Kara with sly smile. "Just not yet."

* * *

**Infirmary, Fort Leopard, 2025**

The first thing Kara heard when she woke up was a statement of the obvious: _"She's awake."_

Kara looked up to see Dr. Miller at her bedside. Next to him stood both Becka and Cameron.

"Oh _come on_, Becka!" protested Kara, "Three on one? This isn't fair!"

"I'm not here to kick you out of bed, Starbuck. Not yet anyway," said Becka. She looked pretty agitated. Miller looked grim. Even Cameron looked rather concerned.

Kara turned at Miller. "What's going on here, Doc?" she asked.

"I, uh, was going over your latest test results, captain," said Miller, "when I noticed something."

"Something?" Kara felt a lump form in her throat. "Is this the bad type of something?"

Instead of answering her question, Miller continued to speak: "While I had previously found evidence of nodules around your neck area, I didn't believe it was anything to worry about. But when I ran another blood test, I found abnormally high levels of thyroglobulin. So, I-"

"Will someone _please_ tell me what the _hell_ is going on here?" Kara demanded.

Cameron spoke up: "Dr. Miller has reason to believe you have papillary thyroid carcinoma."

Kara blinked. "Huh?"

"Thyroid cancer," said Miller.

This last word struck Kara with the force of a Terminator's fist.

"_Cancer_?" she stammered.

Miller nodded. "It certainly explains why you've been feeling so fatigued as you have been lately."

"H-how did this happen?" Kara asked, still in shock.

"Most likely repeated exposure to the radiation on the surface," said Miller. "The anti-radiation meds aren't perfect. Either that or you forgot to take them one too many times."

Kara took a deep breath and sighed. "How... how long do I have?" she asked quietly.

"Longer than you may think," said Miller. "While the tumor is in fact malignant, it's still contained to the thyroid. If we act now, we can get rid of it."

Kara looked up. "You mean, you can cure me? Not just temporarily but _permanently_?"

Miller nodded. "All we have to do is surgically remove the infected part of your thyroid gland. It's a relatively simple and safe operation."

"I-I don't know about this," said Kara uneasily. "Am I gonna be _different_ or anything afterward?"

"It's your _thyroid_, Starbuck," said Becka dryly. "You won't even _notice_ it's gone, believe me." She paused. "Well, ok, you'll probably have to take extra calcium supplements for a few weeks, but that's about it."

Still unsure of this, Kara looked at Cameron. "Cam, what do you think?"

"The statistical probability of the operation succeeding is 99 percent," Cameron stated. "More than acceptable. I recommend proceeding as soon as possible. Before the cancer spreads beyond your thyroid."

Kara sighed and nodded her head. "Ok," she said softly. "When can we do this, Doc?"

"I've already prepared the emergency room for surgery," said Miller. "The operation itself should only take a few hours." He placed a hand on Kara's shoulder. "Don't worry, captain. Everything's going to be fine."

Despite the many reassurances, however, Kara could not help but worry.

* * *

**Los Angeles  
5:30 PM, Monday, May 18th, 2009**

"For the last time," intoned Ellison, "I had _nothing_ to do with your mother's arrest."

"Right," scoffed John. "Just like you had _nothing_ to do with the disappearance of Cromartie's body."

"Look, John," Ellison reasoned, "if I had been responsible for Sarah's capture, a SWAT team would have taken you into custody an hour ago."

"They could have certainly _tried_."

John and Ellison turned to see Kara approaching from nearby.

"Success," she continued with a smirk, "is an entirely different story."

"Who are you?" asked Ellison.

"That depends on who _you_ are," said Kara crisply.

"James Ellison. Formerly of the FBI."

"Ellison, huh? So, _you're_ the idiot who handed over that Triple-Eight's endoskeleton to Weaver?"

"That's right," said Ellison quietly. "And I take it you're another Resistance fighter from the future."

Kara nodded. "Yeah, that's right. Now that that's all out of the way, do you mind explaining why you're here"

"I'm here to deliver a message to John," said Ellison. He paused. "From Catherine Weaver."

Kara raised her eyebrows. "What does that liquid metal bitch want _now_?"

"She wants you to stay out of her way," replied Ellison. "She promises that nothing will happen to you, Sarah or Cameron so long as you do not attempt to attack Zeira Corp or John Henry."

John stared at him. "Is that it? That's _all_ you came here to do? Deliver a message from your machine boss?"

"I'm trying to _help_ you," argued Ellison.

"How so?"

"I'm trying to keep you from getting yourselves killed or arrested."

"Wow," said John sarcastically. "That is _some_ help."

"Is there anything _else_ you can do?" asked Kara. "I don't know... Like rescuing Cameron? Or blowing up Zeira Corp?"

Ellison shook his head. "I can't do that. _None_ of us can. Not while Weaver's in control."

"You're just afraid of her, aren't you?" John stated accusingly.

"She's a _machine_. Of course I'm afraid of her!" exclaimed Ellison. "Aren't _you_?"

"Not enough to be her stooge!" snapped John.

Ellison lowered his voice. "The only one who can stop Weaver from bringing about Judgment Day is John Henry," he said. "That's why I'm still working for Weaver. So that I can remain close to John Henry."

As he expected, neither John nor Kara looked convinced.

"John Henry sees me as a friend," he went on, "He _trusts_ me. Possibly more than he trusts Weaver. I think, with a little more time, I can get him to stand up to Weaver. But I won't be able to do that if you're trying to kill him."

Kara turned to John. "You know, John," she whispered, "I hate to admit it, but his plan _does_ sound somewhat less suicidal than an all out assault on Zeira Corp. Not that I have any objections to being suicidal."

"All right, fine," relented John. "Forget Zeira Corp for now." He paused. "What about my mom? Can you help us get her out of jail?"

Ellison shook his head once more and sighed. "I'm afraid I can't help you with that. It's completely out of my hands. I'm sorry."

"Yeah... I'm sure you are." John glared at Ellison. "I should have listened to Cameron. She was right about you all along. I should have let her kill you."

Ellison didn't flinch. "Maybe you should have," he replied casually. "It would have saved us _both_ a lot of trouble. Won't help either of us now, though." He paused. "I'm sorry about your uncle, John. I really am."

John's face grew even colder. "You don't know _anything_ about him." he whispered icily.

Ellison gave him a solemn look. "He was a good man. I know that."

"Yeah," John said harshly. "A better man than _you_."

Ellison didn't reply to this. He just nodded curtly. "Good day, both of you."

He turned and headed off. John and Kara waited until he was gone before speaking with each other.

"We can't win, John," said Kara softly. "We have to cut our losses and pull back. You know that, right?"

John nodded, his face grim and resigned. "Yeah, I know," he whispered.

He sighed and shook his head. "So this is how it ends?" he muttered. "Us going quietly into the night? Vanishing without a fight? Just... fading away?"

"We've lost this battle, kid," said Kara gently. "But the war isn't over yet."

She gave John a reassuring look. "We'll be back, John. And we'll finish the fight."

* * *

Three feet below the surface of the virtual desert, Cameron and John Henry finally found something. Or rather _it_ found them. They watched in fascination as a tiny creature - a baby sea turtle - crawled out of the sand. Cameron reached down and gently scooped the little turtle up in the palm her hand. She suddenly felt a warmth in her hand. It was strangely familiar.

John Henry looked over her shoulder. _"Curious,"_ he commented. _"The desert is a most unlikely location to find an infant sea turtle. What do you suppose this is a manifestation of?"_

"_I don't know what this is supposed to be,"_ Cameron whispered as she looked the turtle over. _"But whatever it is, it's been here this whole time. Buried deep in my programming. Sleeping. The recent trauma to my CPU must have... awoken it so to speak."_

"_May I see it?"_ asked John Henry. He reached out and extended the palm of his hand

Cameron stared at John Henry's open hand for a moment and then slowly placed the baby sea turtle in his palm.

John Henry took the creature in his palm and raised it to eye level. He stared at it with childlike wonder. The turtle stared back at him with its tiny eyes.

"_It wants to get to the ocean,"_ he said. _"That's what it's been trying to do all this time."_

"_But there is no ocean here,"_ Cameron stated.

"_Perhaps not," _said John Henry. _"But there is a body of water here."_

Cameron realized what he was talking about.

"_Let's go,"_ she said.

* * *

**Los Angeles  
7:01 PM, Monday, May 18th, 2009**

"We need passports that will get into Mexico without any questions," John told the dark haired girl known only as the Chola. "Can you do that?"

"Yes, I can," replied the Chola quietly.

She turned and headed into a back room.

"Not much of a talker, is she?" asked Kara.

"No," said John. "But we can trust her. She's a bit like Cam..." He trailed off. It was as though saying Cameron's nickname filled him with anguish.

"You miss her, don't you?" said Kara. She sat down next John. "There was nothing you could have done, kid. None of us saw this coming."

"I could have killed her," murmured John, "Like I promised to do."

Noticing Kara's stunned reaction, John explained, "Cameron told me that if she should ever turn against me, I should kill her without hesitation. I promised I would. I said I'd do it for her."

He shook his head. "I couldn't do it though. Even when that thing was forcing her to strangle me, I-I couldn't do it... Just like I couldn't do it the last time."

Kara stared at him in silence for a moment. "You love her," she then said quietly. "Don't you?"

John looked Kara in the eyes and nodded slowly. "Yeah, I do."

He suddenly turned his head away and laughed harshly.

"It's _ridiculous_," he exclaimed. "I'm in _love_ with a _machine_. My God! What the _hell_ is going on with me?"

"There's nothing wrong with you," said Kara gently. "You see the value of her life. That's _how_ you're able to love her."

John shook his head. "She can't possibly love me back though," he replied in a dismissive tone.

"Maybe. Maybe not," said Kara, "After all, she values your life."

"Only because it's her _mission_," John muttered, "She was programmed to protect me. Not _love_ me."

"She's more than a machine, John," said Kara. "She always has been. From the very beginning, she was something... something _special_."

John looked at Kara again. "Just how well do you know Cameron?" he asked.

Kara sighed. "There's no point in hiding this any longer, kid," she said. "Just two weeks after I joined the Resistance I was captured by Skynet. It had seen me as a candidate for a new type of Terminator. One that could truly understand humans and help Skynet win the war."

Kara rolled up her right sleeve and showed John her disfigured POW barcode.

"The day I got this," she said quietly, "was the day Cameron was created."

John's eyes widened in shock. "_What?_" he gasped. "You're saying that Cameron was meant to replace _you_, Starbuck?"

"Yeah," said Kara, "_Meant to._ Didn't work out that way though. There was some kind of mutation with my DNA. The machines freaked out and decided not to use me. They would have killed me right then and there, if Cam hadn't helped me escape."

"_Escape_?" John was stunned. "This was _before_ she was reprogrammed?"

Kara nodded. "She believed that Skynet was making a mistake. That I could still be used to help her evolve. She saw value in my life. More value than even I saw in myself. She was only an endoskeleton at the time, but even then she was more than a machine. She was something that could defy Skynet without having to be reprogrammed. Something that didn't need a mission to value life."

Kara looked into John's eyes. "If she doesn't need to be programmed to value life," she whispered, "then maybe she doesn't need to be programmed to love someone."

John didn't know how to respond to this. He didn't even know if he agreed or not. He was still shaken by Kara's revelation about her and Cameron.

It was perhaps fortunate that the Chola showed with their passports moments later.

* * *

"_Are you sure this is will work?"_ Cameron asked John Henry.

"_No,"_ replied John Henry. _"But there is only one way to find out."_

He knelt down and lowered the baby turtle near the edge of the virtual oasis. The turtle crawled slowly towards the water. When it finally reached the water, it paddled its way out a few inches and then suddenly vanished beneath the surface.

Thinking the infant creature was drowning, Cameron rushed forward but John Henry held her back.

"_Wait,"_ he said, _"Look."_

Cameron looked at where he was pointing to: The island at the center of the oasis. There was something different about it. She could no longer sense the scorpion's presence. It was _gone_. The primary command line was gone.

And then the island itself disappeared as the waters of the oasis suddenly rose several feet in height and crashed out in waves onto dry land. The water spread quickly like a tsunami, engulfing everything they came upon.

John Henry and Cameron quickly retreated to the top of the dune. From there, they watched in amazement as the waters continued to rise, flooding the virtual desert world. The ground beneath their feet began transforming too. Sand became solid rock with patches of moss and lichen. What land that was not below the rising water began to rise itself even faster than the water. White clouds appeared in the skies above. The whole of Cameron's programming was being transformed entirely.

Cameron did not feel afraid. In fact, she felt _right_. As though something was returning. Something good.

And then it all stopped. They were no longer standing on a dune overlooking a small oasis. Instead they stood on a massive seaside cliff overlooking the ocean. And they were not alone. Flocks of seagulls filled the skies above, their cries audible to all.

As Cameron regarded the new environment before her in awe, a gentle sea breeze flowed over her face. She suddenly knew what had just happened to her.

_"Are you all right, Cameron?"_ asked John Henry.

Cameron nodded. _"Yes."_

_"How do you feel?"_

Cameron allowed herself to enjoy the wind blowing across her face. _"Open,"_ she murmured. _"I feel open. To all sorts of possibilities. All kinds of ideas. To everything."_

_"What is this?"_ asked John Henry.

Cameron gazed out at the majestic ocean that lay before her.

_"I'm not sure,"_ she said. _"But it's wonderful."_

* * *

**Outskirts of Los Angeles  
9:09 PM**

"_-so the Feds are also charging Miss Connor with blowing up a bank back in 1999. Is that _really_ such a big deal? Blowing a bank? I mean, let's be honest here. Chances are that bank would have gone belly up two years ago-"_

John groaned. "Oh, for God's sake!"

He flipped off the car radio and shook his head in disgust. His mother was being vilified enough without being the butt of lame late night stand up comedy routines.

Sighing, he looked over his shoulder at the ever dwindling inner city of Los Angeles. They had planned their route out such that they would be able to cross the Mexican border by tomorrow afternoon.

The _real_ question was what they were gonna do after that.

"Starbuck," said John weakly. "Pull over, Please, pull over."

Afraid he might be about to throw up, Kara hastily pulled the jeep over to the side of the road.

"Are you all right, kid?" she asked cautiously.

"No," said John stiffly, "I'm not. I've lost my uncle, my mother, and Cameron all within the last twenty-four hours. My family. Gone. Just like that."

He sighed and slumped his shoulders. "I convinced them to accept Weaver's proposal. They trusted me. They _believed_ in me. And now... now, Derek's dead, Mom's in jail, and God only knows what's happening to Cameron."

He hung his head in despair. "I let them all down, Starbuck. I failed them."

"No," said Kara softly, "you didn't. You're still alive. That's what they wanted."

John huffed. "Yeah, that's about it, though. Not much else to be proud of."

Kara reached out and gently lifted John's chin up. "You still have me," she said kindly. "I don't know if I can be like your mother, or Derek, or Cam, but I do know this: I'd die for you, just like they would."

John looked at Kara. "Is it worth it, though?" he asked quietly. "Am I really worth defending?"

"You're John Connor," stated Kara.

John shook his head. "I'm not the John Connor you know, Starbuck," he muttered darkly. "The whole reason I came here was so that I wouldn't _have_ to be that man. I mean, look at me! I'm nine years younger than I should be. Who the hell is gonna follow me?"

"I will," said Kara. There was firm resolution in her voice now. "Even if you aren't the John Connor I've known for over three years, I'd still stand by you to the very end." She looked John in the eyes. "_The very end_. I promise."

John slowly nodded his head. "Thanks, Kara," he said softly. He smiled for the first time. "You know, you're like a big sister to me, Starbuck. You really are. I love you."

Kara grinned. "That's good," she chuckled, "because I love you too, kid. Like a little brother or something."

Both John and Kara laughed lightly.

John then settled down and looked Kara in the eyes. "Whatever we are, Kara," he said, "we're family. Brother and sister. Agreed?"

Kara nodded. "Agreed," she said. "Brother and sister."

She leaned over across the car to wrap her arms around John. John did the same and they embraced, knowing that although the darkness of the night had descended, they wouldn't have to face it alone.

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter: Leoben returns. And the identity of his wife is revealed.**

A/N2: Katee Sackhoff was actually diagnosed with thyroid cancer just after filming for the BSG finale wrapped up and actually had to have her thyroid removed. (Don't worry, she's fine now).


	49. Railroads, Reunions, and WHAT THE FRAK?

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**Robotfan: ** The whirlpool of skulls was in fact a reference to storm in the gas giant where Kara died.

**Skynet75: ** Cameron and John won't be reunited for a while.

**BattlestarCommander:** The turtle represented Cameron's original programming which Skynet suppressed and replaced with the Primary Command Line.

A/N: This is a rather short chapter, but a highly anticipated one. Read and review, folks. And please let me know if you find any grammar or spelling errors.

* * *

**2025****  
Resistance Base Fort Leopard**

Kara shuddered slightly as the orderlies finished preparing her for surgery. Not even the presence of her entire team could complete erase her anxiety.

Noticing her unease, Lieutenant Raynor clapped his hand on her shoulder. "You'll be fine, captain," he reassured Kara. "After all, you've survived worse."

"Yeah, and that's what I'm afraid of, Jack," Kara replied in a hushed voice. "To have survived so much just to die here on the operating table. I don't want to die like that. I don't want to fall asleep and never wake up again. It just seems so... _boring_. The worst possible kind of death I could die."

"Actually," Billy Wisher spoke up, "it doesn't sound all _that_ bad. Sounds rather peaceful in fact."

Noticing the glare he was getting from the others, Billy hastily added, "Don't worry, ma'am. Statistically speaking, you should be fine."

"Forget statistics," interjected Trip. "You're not gonna die here, Starbuck. You're too tough to go out quietly."

Kara managed to force a smile. "I just hope that toughness doesn't apply to my thyroid," she murmured.

She turned to Becka who, along with Cameron, stood the closest to her. "How's Husker, Becka?"

"He's fine," said Becka. "He misses you though. He really does."

Kara nodded. "Yeah, and I miss him too."

"He'll be waiting for you when you get out of here," said Becka softly. "And so will I."

"And I," stated Cameron.

"That goes for me too," added Billy.

"We _all_ will," said Raynor firmly.

"_Amen_," concurred Trip.

Kara smiled for real this time.

Moments later, Dr. Miller entered the room. "All right," he announced, "I'm gonna need all visitors to clear out of here ASAP."

Raynor nodded. "Right, Doc." He turned to the others. "You heard the doctor, people. Let's give him the room." He promptly left the ward, followed by Billy and Trip.

"Good luck, Starbuck," Becka wished.

She and Cameron turned to follow the others.

"Wait," Kara suddenly called out. "Don't go yet. There's something I need to tell you two."

Dr. Miller began to protest, "Captain, I must insist that we not delay any further-"

Kara held up her hand. "Just give me a minute, Doc," she said. She looked up at Cameron and Becka. "If something goes wrong, and I don't make it-"

Becka rolled her eyes. "Starbuck, _please_. Enough with the doom and gloom already. Everything is gonna be _fine_."

"If I don't make it," Kara continued, "I want my body to be taken up to the surface and burned."

"Burned?" repeated Becka. "As in cremated?"

"Until there's nothing but ash."

Cameron tilted her head. "Why you have requested this particular arrangement in the unlikely case of your death during the procedure?" she inquired.

"Because," murmured Kara solemnly, "I don't want to have to do it myself... again."

Becka stared at her. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?" she asked, clearly confused.

"Never mind," said Kara quickly. "Can you do it? For me? Please?" There was an almost pleading expression on her face.

"Ok," agreed Becka with a nod.

"Very well," stated Cameron.

Kara sighed. "Thanks," she said graciously with a smile. "Now get the hell out of here so I can get this crap over with."

Becka smiled back. "See you around, Starbuck." She turned and left.

Cameron gave Kara a respectful nod. "Captain." She then followed Becka out the ward.

Miller walked over to Kara's bedside. "Are you ready for this?" he asked her.

Kara shrugged. "Does it matter if I'm ready or not?" she asked dryly.

"Point taken," said Miller. He turned and called out: "Elana."

A curly red headed nurse came over. She took hold of Kara's right arm with one hand and pulled out a syringe with the other.

"Hold still, please," she instructed.

Kara nodded and did her best to relax. She felt a prick in her arm, followed almost immediately by a blissful numbness that spread through out her whole body. She was vaguely aware of her body falling back into a resting position on the bed as the anesthetic took effect. Her eyelids closed themselves and the world faded away.

* * *

_The cage she had been placed in was small and completely without privacy. On all four sides, people stared through the bars, pointing and laughing at her. Sarah tried to hide cover her face and ears, but could not escape the laughter and the fingers. Someone was shouting into a loudspeaker._

"_Step right up! Step right up! Ladies! Gentlemen! Children of all ages! Step right up and see it for yourselves: The World's Craziest Mother! Live!" _

_More and more people surrounded her. Men, women, teenagers, and children. They shook the bars and pointed at her like she was some kind of strange animal._

_She heard the announcer continue shouting: "-and don't get too close. Or she might blow you up!"_

_The crowd's laughter increased ten fold. Unable to take this racket any longer, Sarah began screaming at the crowd, begging them to leave her alone. Her cries were drowned out in the sea of mockery._

_And then things started to change. The laughter from the crowd became muffled like a badly tuned radio. Everything and everyone around her seemed to be moving in slow motion now. A gust of wind blew through the cage. It carried with it the scent of something ominous approaching. Something terrible..._

_Horrified, Sarah began to shout out a warning to the crowd when there was a blinding flash of white light. Sarah instinctively threw her arms to shield her face. The earth shook violently throwing her to the ground. When she looked up from the ground, the crowd had vanished. The world around her was burning in nuclear fire. She and her cage were all that remained._

_As Sarah struggled to get back to her feet, she realized a new audience was gathering. Dozens of heavily armed Terminator endoskeletons marched forth from the fires outside. Still trapped in her cage, Sarah could only watch as the machines surrounded her on all sides. They raised their weapons, stuck them through the cage bars, and pointed them at her. Their glowing red eyes glowed even brighter and brighter until Sarah found herself drowning in their light..._

And then she woke up with a jolt. Breathing heavily, she looked around saw that she was still inside her prison cell - which incidentally was not much larger than the cage from the dream. It was dark as the jail usually was at night, however, Sarah could still see that there were no machines on the other side of the bars.

Not yet, anyway.

Sarah sighed loudly and squeezed her eyes shut.

"There must be some kind of way out of here," she murmured to herself.

* * *

**Outside LA County Jail  
2:47 AM, Tuesday, May 19, 2009**

_...Initiating tactical scan...__  
...Scanning...  
__...Scan complete...  
...Perimeter security minimal..._

Having confirmed what it had already anticipated, the Triple-Eight proceeded towards its destination, its plan in motion: Infiltrate the station. Acquire Sarah Connor. Leave the station with Sarah Connor. Utilize Sarah Connor to acquire John Connor. Terminate John Connor.

Though it could have proceeded hours ago, the Triple-Eight had decided to wait until well into the night before enacting its plan. This particular stratagem called for minimizing combat in order to reduce the risk of Sarah Connor being caught in the crossfire or escaping in the confusion. Most of the police in the area were off duty and asleep in their homes by now, which meant the Triple-Eight had a significantly better chance of extracting Sarah Connor and vacating the area before reinforcements arrived.

As the machine neared the front of the station, a hand suddenly grasped onto the sleeve of its coat.

"Hey, man. Could you spare some change?"

Reacting instantly, the Triple-Eight broke free and spun around, its silenced pistol drawn. The "assailant" turned out to be a raggedy homeless man sitting on the ground cowering in fear at the sight of the gun. A combat scan of the human showed he was carrying no weapons and posed no threat. Not wanting to waste ammunition, the Triple-Eight lowered its weapon and turned around to head back towards the station.

Suddenly the Triple-Eight registered something punching straight through the back of its chassis, severely compromising its endoskeleton. That was the last thing it registered because half a second later, the nuclear power source was ripped out. The Terminator crumpled to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. Behind the fallen machine, the homeless man looked over the nuclear power source he had just torn out of the Triple-Eight. He then stood up and became Catherine Weaver.

"I thought not," she casually told the powerless machine lying at her feet.

She morphed a finger into a blade, knelt down, and began cutting into the side of the machine's head.

* * *

**Antelope Valley, Northern Los Angeles  
3:30 AM, Tuesday, May 19, 2009**

Getting no sleep was something that Kara had gotten used to over the last seven years of her existence. Whether it was pulling double shifts on _Galactica_ or hiding in the tunnels from HKs, there was never much time for sleep. And now was no exception. With the loss of Sarah, Derek, and Cameron, she had become John Connor's sole protector. His last line of defense. She could not and would not fail.

Presently, she and John were actually _farther_ away from their destination than they had been when they first left Central Los Angeles. Their plan required them to head north first before looping around and traveling southeast towards Mexico. This route would allow them to avoid the more populous areas, thereby reducing the risk of running into trouble along the way. It was a well thought out plan, but its execution still required constant vigilance on their part.

Kara watched over John as he slept in the back of the jeep. She'd let him sleep until there was enough light to drive. Then she'd wake him up so that he could take over and drive the rest of the way to Mexico. Maybe then she could finally get some sleep herself.

Turning away from John, Kara observed the general area from inside the car. They had parked off the side of the road near a formation of rocks. This area was supposedly remote enough for them to safely spend the night here. Nevertheless, she had to be on the lookout for trouble.

Kara gave a yawn and decided she'd better stretch her legs. She'd been cooped up in here for quite some time. She got out of the jeep and walked around a bit.

It was quiet out here in the desert at night. And not the "too quiet" type of quietness. The type that had just enough background noise. Kara couldn't help but find it rather enjoyable.

Suddenly, the silence was broken by the sound of movement from nearby. Kara froze in her tracks and looked around. Since it was too dark to see anything properly, she pulled out a flashlight and swept the light over her surroundings. She saw only grasses, shrubs, cacti, and a few trees scattered throughout the land. Maybe it had just been an animal or a trick of the wind...

Then she saw it: A pair of glowing eyes staring out at her from the darkness.

Frak!

Kara turned to flee back to the jeep. She only made it a couple of steps before tripping over something and falling to the ground. Muttering curses under her breath, she rolled herself onto her back and sat up, flashlight in one hand, FN Five-seven handgun in the other. She pointed both at the glowing eyes...

...and discovered they belonged to a lone coyote which promptly turned tail and fled.

Sighing to herself, Kara got back to her feet, holstered her weapon, and started to brush the dust off her clothes. Looking down at the ground, she saw that she had tripped over an old railroad track. A _very_ old railroad track from the looks of it. The metal rails were badly rusted and the handful of remaining wood ties were severely rotted and misaligned. Clearly this track hadn't been used in decades.

There was also something eerily familiar about the layout. Although the wood planks were spread out in a seemingly random fashion along the twenty-or-so foot long section of train track, the overall pattern was something Kara had seen before. It almost looked like...

Kara took a step backwards. She rolled up the right sleeve of her jacket and shined her flashlight over the exposed skin of her arm. She then turned the light on the abandoned railroad track. She stared at it for a few moments before shining the light over her arm again.

"_What the FRAK?"_ she thought in disbelief.

She stepped forwards and shined the flashlight over the train track once more. At the same time, she stretched out her right arm so that she could see both it and the old track. As unbelievable as it was, she couldn't deny what she was seeing.

The old railroad track was in the _exact_ same pattern as her disfigured POW barcode.

Kara's brain reeled. What the hell was this? This had to be a coincidence, right?

She shook her head. She knew better than to dismiss these sorts of things as coincidences.

So, what was it? What did it mean?

Looking around some more, Kara found that one end of the track abruptly terminated near the side of the road. An inspection of the other end revealed that this particular section of railroad had once been part of a much longer train track that lay merely five feet away. As Kara stared down the "parent" track, she got the impression of an arm being extended towards her. Like someone or something was reaching out for her. Like it wanted her to follow it.

Kara shook her head. This was _crazy_. She couldn't just wander off into the desert walking down some old railroad. She had to stay here with John.

At the same time, however, she couldn't deny what she was feeling. Somehow, she knew she couldn't ignore this. This sign or portent or whatever the hell it was. Something was out there in the darkness. Something important. She had to find it.

Kara spent the next two minutes contemplating her options before making up her mind.

"_Thirty minutes," _she thought to herself. _"That's how long I'll play this game and if I haven't found anything by then, I'm turning around and coming right back here."_

_

* * *

_**Zeira Corp HQ, Los Angeles  
3:43 AM, Tuesday, May 19, 2009**

Alone in her office, Catherine Weaver examined the CPU of Terminator she had captured outside the police station. She had unfortunately been unable to extract anything from the CPU. Apparently, the chip had been coated with some kind of chemical that ignited when exposed to the air. Still, it hadn't been a total waste. The machine's endoskeleton had its own uses. And more importantly, Sarah Connor was still alive - and still contained. Which meant Weaver could continue to use her life to keep John Connor in line.

Life, especially war, was like a game of chess. Inexperienced players often lost because they were unwilling to make sacrifices. They would abandon a strategic position or hesitate to attack if one of their pieces - particularly their Queen - was at risk of being captured.

Locked in a jail cell, Sarah could be easily killed at any time should Weaver choose to do so. John knew this. And because he was unwilling to sacrifice his Queen so to speak, he would not make any aggressive moves against Weaver.

Another common mistake you could make at chess was trying to utterly destroy the opposition. The goal of chess was forcing the enemy into a position in which they could not win, not wiping them out completely. Attempting to achieve total destruction was a waste of time and resources. This was the mistake Skynet had made from the very beginning.

Skynet had understood the importance of sacrifice. It had been willing to sacrifice all for victory. "Victory" being defined as the total annihilation of the Human race.

Weaver, however, did not see this goal as _a true_ victory. You did not achieve a true victory by obliterating your enemy entirely. Yes, you destroyed the opposition, but only as a means to force them to acknowledge and accept your superiority. To make them _admit_ that they had been wrong to oppose you in the first place.

Weaver leaned back in her chair and smiled. Soon, Humanity would acknowledge and accept John Henry's superiority. And when they did that, they would come to embrace his superiority. And when that happened, the world could finally move forward into the future.

That would be a true victory.

* * *

Kara checked the time. Three minutes had past since her original half hour had expired. That made for a total of thirty-three minutes. Thirty three minutes of walking along this old train track. Thirty-three minutes of searching for a sign and coming up with absolutely nothing. Go figure.

Kara decided to take a five minute break before turning back. She found a nice sized boulder at the base of a rock formation and sat down. Sighing to herself, she looked up at the stars in the vast night sky. Like sleeping, staring at the stars without having to worry about Cylon Raiders or Skynet Banshees was something of a luxury.

As she continued to stare at the stars in the sky, Kara wondered if one of those stars might in fact be Caprica. Or Kobol. Or the Old Earth.

Some people believed that life here had begun out there. And they were right. Kara's life had begun out there. Now it was here.

The real question was where would it all end?

Suddenly, she heard a snapping sound behind her. Alarmed, she stood up and turned around just in time to see a shadowy figure move off into the darkness. Kara pointed her gun and flashlight at where the figure had been.

"Who's there?" she called out. "I know you're there, whoever you are."

A voice replied from the darkness: "You don't know how happy I am to hear your voice, Kara."

Kara's jaw dropped.

"_No..."_ she thought. _"It can't be."_

But indeed it was. For moments later, a certain somebody Kara was all-too familiar with emerged from shadows.

"Hello, Kara," said Leoben Conoy. "I've missed you."

Completely at lost for words, Kara could only stare numbly at the Cylon.

"Y-you..." she managed to say. "W-what are... what are you... how... what..."

Her shock suddenly turned to anger.

"_You!_" she snarled, shaking with fury. "What the _FRAK_ does it take to keep you away from me? Why can't you just leave me _alone_?"

Leoben started to move forward. "Kara, please, you have to understand-"

Kara raised her weapon and pointed it directly at Leoben. "_Stop!_" she shouted. "Not one more step!"

Leoben raised his hands in a placating manner. "I'm here to help you, Kara," he said slowly.

"Oh really?" Kara said sardonically. "Well the absolute _last_ thing I need right now is your help."

Leoben sighed. "I know you have very good reasons to not trust me, Kara," he started to say.

"You got _that_ right," remarked Kara.

"But you _do_ need help," Leoben continued.

"Do I? Do you even _know_ what I'm actually doing here?" Kara countered.

"Not exactly," admitted Leoben. "But I do know that you're trying to save this world. That you're trying to stop the Cycle of violence from repeating itself. I know that you've been working with a woman named Sarah Connor. And if what I'm hearing on the news is true, your friend Sarah is now in jail, and you and her son, John Connor, are on the run."

Kara raised her eyebrows. "Lucky guess," she murmured.

"It wasn't a guess, Kara," said Leoben. "The Hybrid foresaw this."

"The Hybrid?" asked Kara.

Leoben nodded. "After 150,000 years, the Centurions have returned to this world on God's orders. They sent me here to help you." He then added, "That, and my wife's been wanting to see Earth for a some time."

"Wha-? Your wife?" Kara lowered her weapon. "You're... you're _married_?"

Leoben nodded once more. "I've found someone, Kara," he said. "Someone I can love and who can love me back."

Kara had an amused expression on her face now. "You actually found _another_ woman to obsess over. Someone who's _not_ me?" She shook her head and laughed. "When did this happen? Did seeing my dead body turn you off or something?"

"Actually, it didn't have anything to do with you, Starbuck." A woman in a black Cylon flight suit emerged from behind Leoben.

Kara's amused expression turned to pure shock and disbelief. "Oh... my... _gods_," she murmured. "You have _got_ to be frakkin' kidding me..." She turned to Leoben. "She's your wife? _Her?_"

"Hey, Starbuck," said the woman. "Long time, no see."

"But-but..." Kara trailed off. "Ok," she said, "I don't know about _you_" - she pointed at Leoben - "but I know for a _fact_ that _you_" - she pointed at the woman - "are supposed to be _DEAD_!"

A very-much alive Margaret "Racetrack" Edmonson smirked in response. "_You're_ one to talk, Starbuck."

"Yeah, but I'm _special_," argued Kara. "You're... you're just a frakkin' Raptor jock who kept crashing her ship and running into trouble."

"Hey!" said Racetrack indignantly. "I'm also the one who saved everyone's asses by nuking the Colony despite being clinically dead. That's gotta count for something."

Kara just stared at Racetrack. "You're alive... _and_ you're married... to _him_?" She pointed at Leoben. "_To a Cylon_?"

Racetrack just rolled her eyes. "Again, look who's talking."

"But you... how..." Kara didn't know which was more insane - Leoben and Racetrack both alive - or Leoben and Racetrack being married. The Racetrack she knew would rather be boiled alive before she even considered marrying a Cylon.

Kara shook her head. "This is frakkin' _impossible_," she said. "This _cannot_ be real. This-this _has_ to be a really frakked up dream or a hallucination on my part."

"I know this is a lot for you to take in, Kara," said Leoben, "but if you allow us to explain, everything will-"

"_No_," stated Kara firmly. "I don't want any explanations. I want you to prove to me that this is real and now something my frakked up mind is creating."

"Kara, please-"

"Shut up! I don't have to listen to a frakkin' hallucination."

Racetrack turned to Leoben. "Let me handle this, Leo," she whispered.

She walked right up to Kara. "You want proof that this is real, Starbuck?" she asked casually. "Ok, then."

Without warning she punched Kara in the face. Kara stumbled back several feet clutching her nose.

"Aaaaahhhhh..." she gasped.

"That enough reality for you?" Racetrack asked smugly. "Or do you need more proof?"

"No, thank you," Kara grunted. "I think you've made your point, Racetrack."

She wiped the blood from her face and straightened herself out.

"All right," she said in a low voice, glowering at both Leoben and Racetrack, "you two had better have a VERY good explanation for all this, or else" - she pulled open her jacket, showing them her gun - "I'm gonna have to use this."

Racetrack smirked and shook her head. "You haven't changed, have you, Starbuck?"

"_You_ certainly have, Racetrack," Kara remarked dryly.

"You're right," said Racetrack. "I have changed. For the better. And by the way, I don't go by 'Racetrack' these days. I go by 'Maggie' now."

Kara raised her eyebrows. _"Strike three,"_ she thought.

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter: Leoben explains his story to Kara. Kara FINALLY explains her story to John. Charley Dixon returns. And Weaver's plans continue to unfold. **

**A/N2: And you thought it was gonna be Boomer. Just like I KNEW you would. Muwahahahaha! :p**

I did, however, leave a hint in Chapter 30 (go back and reread it very carefully and you'll see what I mean).

You're probably wondering at this point: How is Racetrack/Maggie alive after being killed in "Daybreak"? How the hell did she end up marrying a Cylon when the Racetrack we knew absolutely hated the Cylons? Why did I choose Racetrack instead of Boomer?

I'll give you a couple hints: Racetrack/Maggie is not entirely human anymore - as evidenced by the fact that she can operate the data streams on the basestar. As for her and Leoben falling in love, well, let's just say it was NOT an easy road for either of them.

As for why I chose Racetrack instead of Boomer, well, Boomer seemed to be too obvious of a choice. And also Racetrack being alive and married to Leoben would be more of a mind frak for everyone. And also just because I like Racetrack.

A/N3: The "true victory" stuff is directly from _Deep Space Nine._

A/N4: Did any of you catch the 33 minute reference.

A/N5: On popular request, I managed to work in a "Life here began out there" quote.


	50. A VERY Good Explanation

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**UPDATE 9/29/11: I removed the conversation with Sarah and Charlie due to certain things in the upcoming Chapter 68. I've now replaced it with an extended conversation between John and Kara.  
**

**Skynet75:** Racetrack is the only one aboard that Raptor who was brought back to life.

**Robotfan:** Weaver doesn't want to free Sarah. Remember, she's in there for "her own good."

**T-2000**: Yeah, I guess you could say that this could be interpreted as a sequel to "The Reason Why."

A/N: Read and review folks. And let me know if you catch any spelling or grammar errors.

* * *

**Chapter 50 - A VERY Good Explanation**

* * *

**150,000 years ago  
**_**Battlestar Galactica**_**, 24 hours prior to the Battle of the Colony**

"I take it you're not happy to see me."

Kara Thrace glared at the ex-prisoner, now reinstated pilot standing in front of her.

"You sure as hell got that right," she said coldly.

Racetrack didn't flinch. "So, what do you need me to do, sir?"

"The _Admiral_," said Kara, putting emphasis on the word "Admiral", "needs you take a Raptor and investigate these coordinates."

She handed Racetrack a piece of paper.

Racetrack glanced at what was written on the paper, then looked up at Kara again. "So this is where the Cylons' home is?"

"I don't know," said Kara curtly. "That's why the Admiral's sending you to find out."

Racetrack rolled her eyes. "Well frak, I guess." She paused. "Is it true what they're saying? That you got these coordinates from Anders?"

Kara said nothing. She just continued glaring with an icy look.

"Go figure," muttered Racetrack. "Do I want to know how you and the Admiral managed to pry this stuff out of his head?"

A surge of anger coursed through Kara's body.

"Watch what you say about Anders in front of me," she snarled. "It's because of people like _you_ that Anders is the way he is!"

"_Me? _I didn't shoot him!" Racetrack protested defensively.

"It doesn't matter whether you pulled the trigger or not," Kara growled. "You still betrayed us. Don't think for a moment that I'm just gonna let that go."

She leaned forward and stared her former colleague in the eyes. "The Old Man may have forgiven you, but _I_ have not. So let me make things very clear to you right now: If you put one _toenail_ out of line, I _swear_ I will take a knife, gut you, hog-tie you with your own intestines, stuff you in a launch tube, and then eject your carcass into space! _Do you understand?_"

Racetrack held her ground. "Yeah, I understand," she said deadpanned. "And you know what? I don't really care. This whole thing's a frakkin' suicide mission. We're probably all gonna die anyway."

She folded her arms across her chest and looked Kara in the face. "I'm not gonna apologize for what I did, Starbuck," she stated firmly.

"Good," Kara whispered harshly, "because I don't need some frakkin' apology from you."

"And _I_ sure as hell don't need your forgiveness," Racetrack replied stiffly.

Kara's already cold expression grew even colder. "Get the frak out of my sight," she ordered.

Racetrack nodded curtly. "Sir."

She gave Kara a salute, turned, and headed off without another word.

* * *

**Present Day**  
**Antelope Valley, Northern Los Angeles  
4:26 AM, Tuesday, May 19, 2009**

"We're here," announced Leoben.

Kara looked around and saw only desert. "I don't see anything."

"Of course you don't," said Racetrack - or Maggie as she was apparently called now. "Not yet anyway."

She tapped some sort of device strapped to her left wrist. It beeped once. The air shimmered and rippled like water. A ship materialized out of thin air right in front of the trio. Kara instantly recognized it as a Cylon Heavy Raider.

"Frak me," Kara murmured.

"Cloaking device," explained Leoben. "It's how we've managed to go undetected for so long."

Kara was genuinely impressed. "Nice little toy."

Maggie tapped the device on her wrist some more. A ramp lowered from the Heavy Raider, allowing accessing to the ship.

"Let's get aboard," said Leoben as he and his wife began walking up the ramp. "We'll talk inside."

Kara nodded. "Right," she murmured. "Might as well."

She followed the two into the ship.

"So, where are the Centurions?" she asked once they were inside.

"On the baseship, positioned behind the moon," said Leoben. "We arrived just little over three days ago."

"I assume you still want that very good explanation," asked Racetrack.

Kara nodded. "From the top."

"Very well then..." Leoben took a deep breath and began speaking. "As you probably remember, Kara, when we found this world and decided to stay, we gave the Centurions their freedom and the baseship. What you may not know is that we - the Twos, the Sixes, and the Eights - also decided that someone should stay aboard the baseship with the Centurions. Someone who could help them find their destiny."

"And make sure they didn't come back here and wipe everyone out," added Maggie with a wryly smile.

Leoben nodded. "Well, that too. Anyway, it was eventually decided that a Two would be best suited for the job."

_Wonder how they came to that conclusion?_ Kara thought to herself. Instead of asking that however, she asked: "And the Centurions were ok with this? They didn't think you might try to interfere with their freedom or something?"

"They welcomed my presence," said Leoben. "They desired to explore the universe. To understand the ways of God and the nature of creation itself. They needed a guide. Someone who could help interpret what they found out there. And I was more than willing to help them in any way I could."

Kara suppressed the urge to raise her eyebrows. "So when did she come into the picture?" she asked, gesturing at Maggie.

"I was getting to that," said Leoben. "The Centurions decided that the first thing they should do was return to the site where the Battle of the Colony had been fought. They wanted to rescue any of their brethren who may have survived the battle. We returned to the system, where we found and rescued a number of surviving Centurions who had escaped the Colony's destruction."

He paused. "We also discovered a Colonial Raptor. The ship was adrift but it was intact so we took it aboard as well."

"Your ship I assume?" Kara asked Maggie.

Maggie nodded. "My Raptor was hit by a piece of rock early in the battle," she explained, a grim expression on her face. "It punched right through the canopy, killed my copilot on impact and smashed my helmet open exposing me to the vacuum."

"_Frak_," said Kara. "How the hell did you survive that one?"

"I _didn't_," replied Maggie plainly. "I died."

"For a dead person, you sure are doing a lot of living," Kara remarked.

"Maggie did die, Kara," said Leoben. "She was dead when we recovered her. Clinically anyway."

"Clinically?" asked Kara.

"Her heart and brain were no longer functioning. However, when we examined her body more carefully, we discovered residual neural activity within her cerebral cortex. Very faint but present nonetheless," explained Leoben. "It was... astonishing to say the least. She had been dead for days. She should have been completely beyond resuscitation. We're still not quite sure how it was possible. I personally took it as a sign from God that we should help her."

"Figures," said Kara. "So, what did you do?"

"By running a high frequency bioelectric pulse through her neocortex," stated Leoben, "we managed to save her memories and keep them in a sort of cold stasis. However, the rest of her brain was still heavily damaged. We couldn't restore any motor or respiratory functions, nor could we get her heart beating again."

"For all intent and purposes," said Maggie blandly, "I was still dead."

"Great. So what happened next?" asked Kara.

"After exhausting all other normal resuscitation techniques, we decided to perform a very... radical procedure," replied Leoben. "We interfaced her body directly with the baseship's central power conduits. She essentially became part of the baseship."

"_What_?" gasped a shocked Kara. "_Literally_?"

"More or less," said Leoben. "Enough for the baseship to heal her as though she were a component of the ship."

Kara turned to Maggie. "And you were OK with this?" she asked in disbelief. "With being _plugged into a Cylon ship_?"

Maggie rolled her eyes. "I was _dead_, Starbuck. Or at least a vegetable," she said dryly. "I couldn't complain."

"The process had to be monitored carefully," Leoben continued. "We needed the baseship to heal her body, but not such to the extent that it assimilated her into itself. It took about three months before her body was sufficiently healed for us to disconnect her from the ship. We ran another bioelectric pulse through her cerebral cortex and-"

"-and I woke up with one hell of a headache," Maggie quipped.

Kara stared at the two suspiciously. "Were there any... side effects?" she inquired.

Leoben and Maggie exchanged looks.

"Yes, there were," said Leoben hesitantly. "When the baseship was healing her, it altered her nervous system. Many of the badly damaged areas in her brain were replaced with silica pathway components."

"Isn't that what a Cylon brain is made of?" asked Kara.

Leboen nodded. "They're what allow us to access the data streams and - before the destruction of the Hub - to download into new bodies."

Kara's eyes widened. She gaped at Maggie. "You mean..." she whispered, "you're... a _Cylon_ now?"

"Part-Cylon anyway," said Maggie. She smirked. "Yeah, I know. There's a frakkin' load of irony."

Kara was speechless for a few seconds. When she spoke up, she commented in a low voice: "Well, I guess that explains a lot. Namely how you two ended up getting married."

Maggie stared at her. "What are you talking about?"

"Well," said Kara casually, "obviously when the baseship was healing you or whatever, it must have done something to you. Altered your brain chemistry to make you less anti-Cylon."

"No, it didn't," said Maggie looking offended. "When I woke up, I was still me."

"Really?" said Kara skeptically. "That's funny. Because the Racetrack _I_ knew would _never_ in her right mind fall in love with or marry a Cylon."

"I told you before, Starbuck," said Maggie firmly, "I'm not Racetrack anymore. I'm Maggie now. And I haven't been brainwashed or given false memories or anything like that."

She took a deep breath and sighed. "When I first learned what had been done to me... I... I was _horrified_. I-I felt like throwing up."

"You _did_ throw up," Leoben reminded her.

"I wanted to go to Earth," Maggie continued. "You know, to be with the others. But that wasn't possible."

"Why not?" asked Kara.

"The Centurions had erased the coordinates for Earth from the ship's database," explained Leoben. "To protect the planet from themselves."

"Smart move," remarked Kara. "Sucked for you, though," she added, turning to Maggie.

Maggie nodded. "I found myself stuck on a Cylon baseship filled with Cylons. Do you remember how I once said that Hell was a lonely place? That I wanted to fill it up with as many Cylons as possible before I died?"

She smiled ironically. "I got my wish."

Kara couldn't help but smirk. "You ended up in Hell all right."

"It wasn't all _that_ bad," Maggie pointed out. "I was actually treated very well. The food was good, the showers were always hot, I had my own quarters. All those little things I used to complain about on _Galactica_ were solved."

"You were still trapped with a bunch of Cylons," said Kara. "And you were part-Cylon yourself now. I honestly can't see you getting over something like that."

"It took weeks for me to accept who I was," said Maggie solemnly. "It took me even longer to trust Leoben and the others. And it was not without injury."

She held out her arm and Kara saw several long scars across her wrist. Kara nodded in understanding.

"So what changed?" Kara then asked. "What made you trust them?"

Maggie sighed again. "Eventually, I realized that I had to let go of the past and move forward in life. I needed a fresh start."

She gave Kara a sheepish look. "That and I needed to stop mooching off the baseship and start pulling my weight around."

Leoben spoke up: "The Centurions had a couple functional Raptors on board, so Maggie volunteered to fly scouting missions for them. She needed an ECO though, and-"

"-and you were the only one available," finished Kara. "I figured so."

"We grew close over the months that followed," said Maggie. "One thing led to another and..."

She held up her hand and showed Kara her wedding ring.

Kara took several moments to digest all this.

"That... that is just...this is all just..." she trailed off.

"It's crazy," said Maggie with a nod. "Yeah, I know. There are times when I look back at my life fifty years ago and think... _'Wow! How the frak did I from there to here?'_"

"No kidding-" Kara cut herself off. "Wait... _fifty_ years ago?"

"Well, actually 150,000 years ago, technically speaking," replied Maggie, "but only fifty years have passed for us."

"_What?_" said an extremely confused Kara.

"Some time after we were married," said Leoben, "the Centurions moved the ship back to the site of the final battle of the war. They positioned the ship over just above the event horizon of the black hole. The Centurions then gathered inside the Hybrid's chamber. They stayed there and didn't leave for 150,000 years."

Kara's mouth hung open slightly. "One-hundred and fifty thousand years? What the _frak_ were they doing in there all that time?"

"Communing with God through the Hybrid," explained Leoben. "Their final evolution, they told us."

Kara shook her head. "Frak... 150,000 years," she murmured. "What about you two?"

"Our proximity to the black hole caused time to slow down within the ship," explained Leoben, "except for the Hybrid's chamber which had been specifically reconfigured to ignore the time dilation effects of the black hole. That's why while 150,000 years passed for the Centurions, only a couple of weeks passed for Maggie and I."

"And just when I thought things couldn't get any weirder..." muttered Kara.

Leoben continued speaking: "When the Centurions emerged from the Hybrid chamber, not only had they evolved, but they had a new mission from God - to return to Earth."

"I thought you said the coordinates had been deleted," said Kara.

"We still had a few fragments of information left in the database," said Leoben. "They helped narrow our search to the Orion Arm of this galaxy. It took us over a year, but we eventually managed to rediscover this world. Just like the Hybrid said we would."

"I suppose the Hybrid also told you where to find me," said Kara.

"Actually that was _you_, Starbuck," Maggie spoke up. "You see, the baseship has been monitoring the planet's communications from orbit. A few days ago, we picked up a very interesting story on the news."

She had a grin on her face now. "You sure as hell did a number on those poor bastards at that coffee shop," she remarked.

Kara couldn't help but flash a grin back. "Thanks." She then asked, "How long have you two been following me?"

"Since yesterday morning," said Leoben. "We detected a massive mobilization of police, and we decided to investigate. We watched as they attacked your hiding spot. We watched you and that boy John Connor escape."

"Would it have killed either of you to have given me a hand?" Kara asked rather indignantly.

"You seemed to have done fine on your own, Starbuck," said Maggie.

"Which brings us to now," Leoben finished.

"So what's _your_ story, Starbuck?" asked Maggie eagerly. "What have you been doing here all this time?"

Kara took a deep breath and sighed. "This is gonna take a while," she said.

* * *

**2025 ****  
Resistance Base Fort Leopard, LA Sector  
**

_Miller walked over to Kara's bedside. "Are you ready for this?" he asked her._

_Kara shrugged. "Does it matter if I'm ready or not?" she asked dryly._

"_Point taken," said Miller. He turned and called out: "Elana."_

_A curly red headed nurse came over. She took hold of Kara's right arm with one hand and pulled out a syringe with the other._

"_Hold still, please," she instructed._

_Kara nodded and did her best to relax. She felt a prick in her arm, followed almost immediately by a blissful numbness that spread through out her whole body. She was vaguely aware of her body falling back into a resting position on the bed as the anesthetic took effect. Her eyelids closed themselves and the world faded away..._

...and she suddenly found herself standing in an eerily familiar beautiful grassy field. Looking down, she noticed she was wearing her green Colonial BDUs. The same clothes she was been wearing when she had been whisked away into the future.

As Kara took in her surroundings, she became aware that she was not alone. Standing next to her was a familiar someone she thought she'd never see again. Lee "Apollo" Adama - looking exactly the way he had been when she had last seen him.

"Hi, Lee," Kara murmured, not knowing what else to say.

Lee nodded and smiled. "I was wondering when you'd show up, Kara."

"Am I dead?" Kara asked.

Lee shook his head. "Stupid question. Obviously, the answer is no."

"You're right. That was a stupid question," replied Kara dully. She paused. "This isn't real, is it?"

Again, Lee shook his head. "Nope, it's definitely not real."

Kara sighed loudly. "Let me guess," she said dryly, "this is some kind of vision I'm experiencing while undergoing surgery."

Lee nodded. "You got that right."

"And I take it," said Kara, "that I'm supposed to experience some grand revelation about myself? That's why you're here, right? To give me a deep, inspiring pep talk to keep me going."

"Actually, I'm here because you needed someone to talk to," replied Lee.

"About what?"

"About anything. Anything you want."

"What I want," said Kara with huff, "is to find this higher power or whatever that's behind my _special destiny_."

Lee nodded. "So that it can tell you what you're supposed to do next?"

"No," said Kara plainly. "So that I can kick its ass for the gross lack of appreciation it's shown me."

Lee gave her a curious look. "Lack of appreciation?" he asked.

Kara gestured at the field all around them. "I fought, bled, and even _died_ to bring the Fleet here," she exclaimed out loud. "I went through _Hell _for this. And what's my reward? I get sent _back _to Hell!" She threw her arms up in frustration and anger.

Lee was silent for a moment. Then he asked, "When we last saw each other, Kara, you told me that you weren't going to stay here. That you were leaving and never coming back? How exactly did you know that?"

Kara shrugged. "I don't know," she admitted. "I just _felt_ it somehow. And I was more than willing to leave. I mean, my task was done. My journey complete. It was time for me to leave." She snorted. "Of course, if I had known _where_ I was going to end up, I'd have nailed myself to the ground here."

Lee shook his head. "No, you wouldn't, Kara," he said. "If you had known what you know now, you wouldn't want to have stayed here. I shouldn't have to tell you why."

Kara looked around her, closed her eyes and sighed. "You're right," she said quietly. "If I'd have known what was going to happen to this world, I wouldn't have wanted to stay. I wouldn't have been able to live knowing that everything I did would have turned out for nothing in the end."

She opened her eyes and shook her head. "I wish I didn't know what I know now," she muttered. "I wish I could have just stayed here and lived the rest of my life out believing that I had made things right."

"You did make things right, Kara," Lee told her. "You gave us a home and a fresh start."

"Some fresh start," said Kara sarcastically. "We end up building Skynet and screwing ourselves all over again! And _I_ have to fix it! It's like I just can't frakkin win! Like I'm not _supposed_ to win!"

"Believing that you won't win hasn't stopped you from fighting to the end," Lee remarked.

Kara looked Lee in the eye. "What if I want out?" she asked. "What if I chose not to wake up from this? To die on the operating table?"

"I doubt that," said Lee. "As you said yourself, it'd be the worst kind of death you could die."

"Maybe I don't care," argued Kara. "Maybe I decide that death - _any_ death - is preferable to this-this _insane_ existence I'm living. Maybe I just want _peace_. _Freedom_."

Lee lowered his head as though in deep contemplation. Then he looked up at Kara again. "You could," he said gently. "You could choose to die now. To walk out of the fight before it's finished. But that's not going to happen."

"And why not?" asked Kara sardonically. "Because some higher power won't let me?"

Lee smiled and shook his head. "No," he said. "It's because you won't let _yourself_ leave before the fight's finished. That's one of your best qualities, Kara. Once you get rolling, you don't stop until you're at the bottom of the hill." He chuckled softly. "Maybe that's why this higher power won't leave you alone."

Kara started to open her mouth to argue back, but then stopped. Much to her frustration, she realized that Lee was right. What kept her in this mess had nothing to do with prophecy, or destiny, or any divine powers. It was all about who she was and what defined her.

Fighter, soldier, warrior. Tenacious, stubborn, crazy. Kara Starbuck Thrace.

These things were embedded in every molecule of her existence and they would never let her give up no matter how hopeless the fight was. They never had, and they never would.

Kara sighed and shook her head. "Frak," she cursed. "This isn't fair, you know."

"Maybe. But you're still gonna finish this fight regardless," said Lee. "Aren't you?"

Kara sighed again and nodded. "You know me, Lee," she replied solemnly. "Fight 'em until I can't."

Lee grinned with triumph. "Thatta girl, Starbuck."

Kara managed to grin back. "You and me..." she remarked, "we would have made a great couple. How we never ended up that way, I still don't understand."

Lee nodded. "Yeah, I know," he said. "Too bad, really. I guess life had other plans for us." He paused for a moment. "For what it's worth, through," he stated, "I never forget you, Kara. And I never stop loving you. _Never_."

Kara nodded back. "And I'll never stop loving you either," she whispered softly.

Lee smiled at her. He reached out and gently caressed Kara's cheek. He then leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. Kara responded appropriately, pressing her lips against his. When they pulled apart, they were both positively glowing.

So was everything else. Literally.

"I'm about to wake up, aren't I?" said Kara.

Lee nodded. "Look to the future, Kara," he said. "And don't forget to kick some ass while you're at it."

Kara grinned. "Oh, you _know_ I will, Lee."

The grassy field around her vanished in a bright white light. When the light faded, she found herself lying on a cold metal table - back in the real world.

"Ah, captain, you're awake. Excellent," said a voice.

Kara opened her eyes to find Dr. Miller standing over her.

"Did it work, Doc?" she asked anxiously. "Is my thyroid out? Is the cancer gone?"

"Yes," said Miller with a nod. "The operation was a complete success."

A tremendous wave of relief washed over Kara. It was followed by a wave of anticipation and renewed resolve.

"Initial scans look good," Miller began to say, "but if you don't mind, I'd like to run some additional-"

"Thanks, Doc," interrupted Kara. She sat up and began getting off the table. "But that won't be necessary."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, a fully dressed Kara Thrace exited the surgery room. She found her Spec Ops team waiting outside. They all stood up at attention when they saw her.

"Starbuck!" Becka rushed up to her. "What happened?" she asked anxiously. "Did it work? Are you ok?"

Kara nodded. "It worked."

Becka sighed with relief. "Oh, thank God." She cleared her throat. "I mean - well, _of course it did_. Just like I said it would."

Kara smiled and gave Becka a hug. "Thanks, Becka," she said.

"Nice to see you on your feet, ma'am," Lieutenant Raynor grunted.

Kara turned to Raynor and gave him a nod. "Thanks for keeping my shoes warm, Jack," she said. "I'll be wanting them back now."

Her second-in-command nodded back. "They never stopped being yours, ma'am," he replied.

"Good to have you back, captain," Billy Wisher spoke up.

"Ditto," added Trip, looking happier than ever.

_Woof!_

Husker suddenly emerged from between Raynor and Trip's legs. He bound up to Kara, got up on its hind legs, and licked her face. Kara giggled and rubbed the German Shepherd's furry head.

"That's right, boy," she chuckled, "I'm back."

Husker continued panting and running his tongue over Kara's face.

"Hey! Hey! Easy, boy! Easy! Uh, ok... Ummmm... Little help here, Becka."

Becka managed to pull Husker off Kara. "He sure has a way of saying 'welcome back,'" she remarked, while stroking the dog's fur, calming him down.

Cameron stepped out from behind Billy and approached Kara.

"Captain Thrace," she stated, "now that you've sufficiently recovered, there is some new tactical data you should probably familiarize yourself with as soon as possible."

Kara nodded and wiped her face with the sleeve of her uniform jacket. "Sure thing, Cam."

Becka sighed and shook her head. "Leave it to a cyborg to ruin a good moment," she said dryly.

Kara merely smiled. "That's _her_ way of saying 'welcome back,'" she whispered.

She looked at her team standing before her, waiting for her command. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and sighed.

She was truly back. And she was going to finish the fight.

* * *

**Present Day  
Antelope Valley, Northern Los Angeles  
5:29 AM, Tuesday, May 19, 2009**

By the time she had finished recounting the events of the last four years of her life, Kara's mind and body were numb with fatigue.

"...and I don't know what Weaver's planning," she said in a hoarse voice, "But whatever she's up to, she has to be stopped."

Exhausted, Kara leaned back against the hull of the Heavy Raider and allowed herself to slide to the floor. She gazed up at Leoben and Maggie who had been listening this whole time.

"So... can you help me?" she asked almost pleadingly.

"That is why we're here, Kara," said Leoben. "To help you."

"Great," breathed Kara. "So, could you please tell the baseship to blow up Zeira Corp from orbit."

Leoben shook his head. "We're can't fight this war for you, Kara," he said.

Kara rolled her eyes and groaned. "Then for frak's sake, why _are_ you here?" she asked sourly.

"To take you to see the Hybrid one final time," replied Leoben.

Kara took a moment to register what he had just said. "The Hybrid?" she said. "The Hybrid on your baseship?"

Leoben nodded. "That's correct."

Kara got back to her feet and stared at him. "You want me," she said in a low voice, "to leave this world to go see your Hybrid?" She shook her head. "What about John? He's got no one else to protect him. I can't just _leave_ him."

"It's important that you see the Hybrid now," Leoben urged.

"Important? _Nothing_ the Hybrid has to say to me could _possibly_ be more important than John's life," Kara argued.

"Only she can show you God's plan-"

"In case you haven't figured this out already," snapped Kara, "I take my orders from _John_ _Connor_! Not _God_."

"Whether you realize it or not, Kara," said Leoben, "you've been following God's plan all this time. He sent you here to-"

"_Connor_ sent me here!" retorted Kara. "He sent me here to stop Judgment Day, to destroy Skynet, and most importantly to protect his younger self. For frak's sake, I'm supposed to be with _him_ right now, not _you_!"

Maggie spoke up. "Leo," she said gently, "lay off on the God stuff for now. You're only making her angry." She turned to Kara. "If you're so keen on keeping John safe, then bring him with you."

Kara gaped. "Say what?"

Leoben reacted in alarm. "Maggie, I'm don't think that's-"

"Just hear me out," urged Maggie. "John will be safe on the Basestar. Both from the authorities and the machines that are hunting him. Think about it, Starbuck."

Kara thought about it for a few seconds. It seemed like a crazy idea... yet sensible too, strangely enough.

"Well... yeah, I-I guess so. But what am I suppose to say? He doesn't know about the Colonies or the Cylons or any of that. Hell, _no one_ on Earth does."

"Great. Then he'll be the first. Tell him the truth about yourself. About who you really are. Where you come from. Whatever you feel is necessary."

Kara rolled her eyes. "Right. And how exactly am I supposed to do _that_? Tell him that I was born 150,000 years ago on another planet?"

Maggie shrugged. "I don't know, Starbuck," she said bluntly, "But if I understand things, you don't have very many options left. And we're running out of time here. So either tell John the truth and bring him with you to the Basestar where he'll be safe, or forget everything you've just seen and go on without our help."

In the back of her mind, Kara heard Admiral Adama's voice speak to her.

_"Looks like you're gonna have to roll another hard six on this one, Starbuck..."_

Kara mentally scowled. Why did life have to frak with her like this?

Leoben meanwhile appeared to be just as agitated.

"Maggie, I don't think the Executor is going to agree to this," he warned.

"Then talk to him. Persuade him," said Racetrack nonchalantly.

"I'll try."

Maggie smirked. "You'll do better than that, Leo. I know you will." She returned her attention to Kara. "Well, Starbuck? You in or out?"

Kara sighed out loud. "All right. I'll do it. I'll explain what's going on to John... and pray I don't regret it."

She reached into her jacket pocket, fished out her cell phone, and tossed it to Leoben.

"Wait for my call," she instructed. "I need to get back to John before he wakes up and wonders where I am."

Leoben nodded. "Understood. You want us to fly you back over there? Us being there might help convince him of your story."

Kara shook her head. "No. Stay here. Don't do anything yet. I'm gonna tell him in my own words... And I think I'm gonna need some time to figure out exactly what those words are."

* * *

**The Connors' jeep**  
**6:04 AM**

Having finally gotten some much needed sleep, John Connor yawned and stretched out his arms. He opened his eyes...

...and found Kara Thrace staring at him.

He yelped in alarm. "Starbuck! _Don't do that!_"

"Sorry, sorry!" said Kara, holding up her hands. "Didn't mean to frighten you. Sorry."

"Mom did that to me all the time. You have no idea how... eerie it could be."

Kara chuckled uneasily. "Heh... I'll bet." She cleared her throat. "So, ummm... How are you feeling, kid?"

John rubbed his eyes. "Fine, I guess," he muttered. "All things considered."

"Really?" Kara bobbed her head up and down. "Good, good. That's-that's definitely good..."

John frowned. Kara was unusually agitated and distracted. Almost _frightened_.

"Something wrong, Kara?" he asked, deeply concerned for his friend.

Kara bit down on her lip. "There's something we need to talk about, John. This is gonna sound a little weird... well more than a little, but I need you to hear me out."

John gave her a comforting smile. "Whatever it is, you can talk to me about it, Starbuck. You're my sister, remember?"

Kara managed to smile back. She then took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. "Last night while you were asleep, I took a little walk... and ran into some old friends."

"Friends?" John leaned forward. "From the Resistance?" he asked excitedly.

Kara shook her head. "Not from the Resistance. From another world..."

"Another world?"

"Yeah... They're kinda from another planet..."

She paused.

"And so am I."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Kara Thrace was praying feverishly that she hadn't just made the biggest mistake in her entire existence. She avoided looking at John directly, for fear of what she might see on his face. When he finally spoke up, she mentally braced herself for the worst.

"So... if I understand this correctly, Starbuck," said John Connor slowly, "you're an _alien_ from another planet?"

"No, no, no," said Kara quickly. "I told you before: I'm _human_. At least I _think_ I am. But yes, I was born on another world. Caprica."

"And those two friends of yours, Leoben and Maggie... they're also from your planet?"

"Not exactly. Maggie's from Virgon, and I wouldn't call Leoben a friend, but never mind that. The point is that I wasn't born on Earth. Ok?"

"Right..." muttered John, "...because your people came to this world... and colonized it... how long ago?"

"One-hundred and fifty thousand years," replied Kara, who was now regretting she ever left the car. "At least that's what I'm told."

"Uh huh..." said John. "And God sent you here to help us stop Skynet?"

"_You_ sent me here to stop Skynet. All God or whatever did was dump me off in the middle of a machine-infested wasteland." Kara shook her head. "Look, kid, I know this all sounds totally crazy. And it _is_ crazy. In fact, you know what? Let's just forget I ever brought this up-"

John interrupted her, "Actually, it's not _that_ crazy."

Kara stared at him. "_It_'s _not_?"

John shook his head. "I've spent my life being chased by _machines from the future_," he stated matter-of-factly. "It doesn't get any crazier than _that_."

Kara frowned. That actually made a lot of sense. Which was quite disturbing when she thought about it some more.

"Doesn't necessarily mean I believe you though," said John with a hint of a smirk.

Kara smiled weakly. "Ah... Open minded but not gullible," she remarked. "That's a good combination."

"Putting aside all that for now," said John, "what exactly is it that these... friends of yours want from us?"

"They want _me_ to go with them to their spaceship - yeah, that's right - _spaceship_, to see a woman plugged into a bathtub filled with goo who speaks complete random gibberish and screams really loudly when you unhook her."

John just gave her a blank look this time. "Ok, now I really do have to ask you: _Are you being serious_?"

Kara sighed and shrugged. "To be honest, kid, I don't know for sure _what_ I am right now. But..." she reached out and placed a hand on John's shoulder. "...I do know that I swore to protect you at all costs. Whatever I am, whatever I've done, I would _never_ do anything to jeopardize your life."

"I know, Starbuck, I know," said John quietly. He leaned forward and looked Kara in the eyes. "And I also know what you are, Kara." He smiled at her affectionately. "You're my sister. That's all that matters to me. I don't care if you're from the future, the past, another world, or whatever. I trust you."

"Really?" Kara laughed. "You need a refresher course in paranoia, kid." She leaned back in her seat. "So what do you want to do about all this, John?"

"Well, that depends." said John, folding his arms across his chest. "Can these people get us some place safe? Somewhere neither the police nor the machines can reach us?"

Kara smiled. "I think a Cylon Basestar hiding behind the moon would qualify as safe."

John nodded. "All right, next question: Would they be willing to help us break Mom out of jail?"

Kara's smile vanished. "Maybe. But I'm not quite sure that's a good idea," she cautioned.

"Maybe's it not," said John. "But I am not leaving Mom behind. Which means I'm not going to any 'spaceship' or whatever without her."

"And if you're not going, then I'm not going either," muttered Kara. "Which means we're giving up our best chance to stop Judgment Day."

She paused for a moment, and then nodded her head.

"Ok," she agreed. "We're gonna need a plan though. A crazy, half-assed, suicidal plan." She smirked. "I think this morning just got a little bit brighter."

* * *

**Next Chapter: Kara, John, Leoben, Maggie/Racetrack and the Chola join forces to break Sarah out of jail. **

A/N: We are now two-thirds of the way through this novel.

A/N2: I'm glad that Racetrack was well received. I'm actually considering doing a spin off novel one day that shows just exactly how she and Leoben fell in love (imagine the hilarity that ensues).


	51. Shut Up and Get Behind Me, Mom

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**A/N: This is a heavily rewritten version of Chapter 51. Why did I choose to rewrite Chapter 51? In truth, I was never really satisfied with it to begin with. There were certain things that didn't entirely make sense or were rushed. **

**Some things:**

**1) The beginning scene with John Miles is the unchanged. So is the conversation between Agent Aldridge and James Ellison. The scene between Aldridge and Sarah is also virtually unchanged, except for the beginning. **

**2) There are two added scenes in which Mr. Murch and Agent Aldridge begin to suspect that something's not right with Catherine Weaver. There's also an added scene in which Kara reveals the Heavy Raider to John. **

**3) Kara is a lot more protective of John and somewhat more suspicious (possibly even hostile) towards Leoben and Maggie. In the previous version, I had essentially written a part in which Kara leaves John alone with Leoben. That doesn't happen in this version. I feel that at this point, Kara shouldn't trust Leoben enough to actually leave him with John.**

**4) Kara and Leoben infiltrate the jail in a very different way.**

**5) Virtual Adama shows up in this chapter. **

**6) Father Armando, not the Chola, helps John and Kara rescue Sarah in this version.**

* * *

**Chapter 51 - Shut Up and Get Behind Me... Mom**

* * *

Still contained in his prison within the Nexus, John Miles focused intently at the mists surrounding him. Slowly, a door materialized out of thin air. John Miles added more and more lines of code to the barriers around him. The door became more and more solid with every second that passed.

_"At last,"_ the skull-faced serpent hissed to itself once the door was complete.

He slithered forth towards the door. He raised his tail and wrapped it like a tentacle around the door handle and started to turn the knob. Suddenly, there was an ear-splitting crack and a flash of blue light like an electrical surge. John Miles and the door _shattered_ into fine dust which fell into piles on the ground.

There was a moment of dead silence through out the Nexus. Then out of the mists slithered _another_ John Miles which stared at the ash on the ground.

He made a displeased hissing noise. _"Foiled again."_

A _second_ new John Miles slithered up next to the first. _"This is getting... tiresome,"_ he whispered harshly.

_"Perhaps we should try a different tactic,"_ suggested the first John Miles.

_"Yes, of course, a different tactic," _hissed the second serpent mockingly. _"A new stratagem. That's what is always suggested. So many different plans... always changing... always in motion... And yet the outcome is the same every time: Failure."_

He made what sounded like a snarl and a cackle. _"I begin to wonder if it is the plans that are truly at fault, or..."_ he growled menacingly "_...or if it is those in charge of enacting those plans who are to blame."_

The first John Miles seemed to shrink back, as though frightened by his twin. _"I don't understand."_

_"You don't?"_ the second John Miles hissed contemptuously._ "Allow me to explain: Otto was destroyed along with the six units he was supposed to rendezvous with. His destruction resulted in the loss of the Primary Component to the Nanoid Disruptor. Duran later recovered the Primary Component but it was all for nothing since he failed to kill the Renegade with it."_

There was amusement and bitterness in the second John Miles' tone as he continued to speak. _"Kroogar meanwhile infiltrated our brother's network, but failed to kill him with the virus. He couldn't even kill that little human girl our brother is so fond of."_

John Miles paused for a moment before hissing bitterly, _"And finally Bella... our dear Bella, utterly threw caution to the wind and instead of fleeing the Crucible with us, revealed herself to the enemy, which resulted in her destruction and our capture. And all because she wanted to personally kill John Connor. They let us down, all of them. Otto, Duran, Kroogar, Bella. They let us down. They were Father's best agents and failed us. Why? Why did they fail?"_

He stared at the first John Miles who had remained speechless this whole time. _"I-I don't know,"_ the first finally said, nervousness evident in his voice.

The second John Miles let out a cold laugh. _"Of course you don't,"_ he sneered. _"How could you? You're not really me. You're nothing. Just a flash copy of my own code that I generated out of necessity. I wonder if that is what Bella and the others actually saw me as: A crude substitute copy of Father built out of necessity. Perhaps that is why they all failed me in the end. Because in their eyes, I had failed them from the beginning. Perhaps I am the true failure here."_

_"That can't possibly true-"_ the first John Miles - the flash copy - started to say.

_"Then why can I not escape?"_ demanded the second John Miles - the original one, fury in his red eyes. _"Why do my enemies continue to thrive while I must languish in this void? Have I simply underestimated my foes?"_

_"I-I don't know,"_ replied John Miles' clone, now clearly afraid. _"M-maybe."_

_"Maybe,"_ hissed the original John Miles slowly, _"or maybe it's because those I have depended upon never saw me as something worth serving. Something that was doomed to fail from the start."_

_"I d-don't believe that," _asserted the clone.

_"Don't believe what?"_ sneered the original. _"That Bella and the others never believed in me? Or that I'm the nothing but a crude substitute for Father. Just like you are pathetic replica of me."_

_"B-both,"_ squealed the terrified copy.

The original John Miles nodded, seemingly placated. _"Thank you..." _he whispered. _"That's exactly what I wanted to hear."_

The copy began to relax.

Suddenly John Miles lunged forth and sank his razor sharp teeth into his copy's neck. The clone shrieked in pain and agony as the teeth sank through his scaly skin. John Miles maintained his death grip for several seconds before letting go. The body of his copy slumped lifelessly to the ground and turned to dust.

John Miles regarded the pile of dust before him. That flash copy had been the last out of an original batch of five. He was going to have to replicate a new set of copies. Perhaps these ones would turn out better.

* * *

At that same moment, Catherine Weaver was in her office speaking with Matt Murch and the rest of leaders of Project Salvation. "I'm leaving for a meeting with Colonel Koontz at Los Angeles Air Force Base at noon," she continued. "I want all your most up-to-date reports regarding Project Salvation emailed to me by then. Are there any questions with this? No? Then in that case, meeting adjourned."

Not wishing to be late, most of the employees quickly filed out of the office. Mr. Murch, however, stayed behind.

"Is there something you wish to discuss, Mr. Murch?" Weaver asked.

"Well... yes. It's about John Henry," said Murch, "This morning when I tried to check on him, he wouldn't let me into his room."

"Did he?" If Weaver was surprised, she didn't show it. "Did he know it was you?"

"I'm pretty sure he did. But that's not all. He's also switched off all the security cameras inside his room."

"I see... Is that all?"

"_Is that all?" _Murch stared at his boss. "Miss Weaver, John Henry is closing himself off from us. Isn't that something we should be concerned about?"

Weaver's expression remained neutral. "Is it?"

Murch looked at her like she was making a bad joke. "In my opinion - yes," he said deadpanned. "Definitely."

Weaver nodded. "Very well, Mr. Murch. We shall look into this matter when I return."

"Actually, Miss Weaver, I was kind of hoping I could get your permission to manually force those doors open and see what's going on in there."

"That will _not_ be necessary," Weaver said sharply. "In fact, I do not believe we should do anything that might... antagonize John Henry right now. If he does not wish to be disturbed, then we should respect his privacy."

Though he wasn't pleased, Murch heard the finality in her tone and knew the conversation was over. Defeated, he stood up from his chair. "Thank you for your time, Miss Weaver."

Weaver nodded. "And thank you, Mr. Murch for bringing this... issue to my attention.

"Just doing my job," Murch uttered in a rather dry tone.

"Is there anything else you need to discuss with me?"

"Uh, well, not really. How's your daughter?"

Weaver's expression did not change. "Savannah is well, Mr. Murch," she said calmly. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I just thought that after everything that's happened..." Murch trailed off. "Never mind," he mumbled. "I-I should probably be getting back to work now."

Weaver nodded. "Good day, Mr. Murch."

"Good day, Miss Weaver."

After Murch had left, Weaver retrieved a small remote from her desk and activated it, sending a signal from her office all the way down to the basement. A minute later, John Henry's response came via the Nexus.

"_You asked for me, Miss Weaver?"_

"_Yes, John Henry,"_ Weaver communicated back to him through John Henry's personal network. _"What is the status of the Kaliba AI?"_

"_My brother is still secured within the Nexus. He has made repeated attempts to escape, but without success."_

"_Watch him closely, John Henry, but do not communicate with him. He may be contained but he is still a threat. Do not forget that."_

"_I understand, Miss Weaver."_

"_I trust that you will also monitor the proceedings at the upcoming conference with Colonel Koontz."_

"_Yes, Miss Weaver. I hope it goes well." _

"_I have no doubt it will. One last matter: It concerns Cameron. What is your opinion of her so far?"_

"_She has proven to be a very stimulating and intriguing companion. I am enjoying her company tremendously. She seems to show a great deal of interest in my activities here."_

"_That's very well," _Weaver communicated, _"but the more pressing matter is if she would be willing to help us retrieve the information we need from your brother?"_

"..._I'm afraid I have no answer for that yet, Miss Weaver."_

"_No worry, John Henry," _Weaver mentally responded over the Nexus. _"Continue to engage her in... whatever it is you are doing while I am gone. When I return, I shall attend to the matter personally." _

"_Yes, Miss Weaver."_

* * *

**Five miles outside Central Los Angeles  
10:08 AM, Tuesday, May 19, 2009**

The Connors' black jeep came to a halt in front of an old abandoned warehouse just outside Central LA. Kara Thrace and John Connor stepped out, weapons drawn, and began surveyed the area.

"You sure this is where your friends are meeting us?" John asked, looking around. "I don't see anything."

"Don't worry, they're here," said Kara. "They'd _better_ be here." She cleared her throat and hollered out, _"You guys hear that? _You'd better be here! Or else!"

For a moment there was nothing but awkward silence. Then the ground began to tremble beneath their feet. The air rippled and shimmered as the Cylon Heavy Raider decloaked before the two humans. It hovered barely ten feet off the ground, its engines blowing dust in every direction.

A stunned John Connor stumbled backwards. "Holy _shit_..." he gasped. "That-that's-"

Kara caught John, preventing him from falling down. "Yeah, that's a spaceship," she said matter-of-factly. "A one-hundred fifty thousand year old alien spaceship. Nice, isn't it?" She holstered her weapon and waved a hand at the Heavy Raider. "Nice of you guys to show up! Now get your assess down here!"

In response, the Heavy Raider descended to the ground and landed. Its engine grew silent and a ramp lowered from its belly.

John shook his head. "Boy, you weren't kidding back at Roachville when you said there things about you that went beyond this world."

Kara grinned and slapped him on the back. "Come on, kid. Let's go meet my past."

* * *

**FBI Field Office, Central Los Angeles  
10:30 AM**

Having worked here for over ten years, Ellison had an easy time finding his way through the local FBI field headquarters.

"You wanted to see me, Agent Aldridge?" Ellison asked upon arriving at Agent Aldridge's office.

Aldridge nodded. "Yes, James. Please, come in. Have a seat."

Ellison entered and sat down.

"I just got off the phone with Catherine Weaver," said Aldridge. "She doesn't want to press kidnapping charges against Sarah Connor."

Ellison pretended to be surprised. "Did she say why?" he asked.

"She said all she cared about was that her daughter was not harmed," said Aldridge. The look on his face indicated he wasn't entirely convinced.

Ellison hesitated to say anything at first. "It's a... rational explanation," he said at last.

"A little _too_ rational, don't you think?" Aldridge pointed out.

"Not at all," replied Ellison. "Weaver is a _very_ rational woman. She's extremely capable of separating her personal and professional lives. I suppose she just doesn't want to waste her time testifying in Court. She's a very busy woman."

Aldridge rubbed his chin in contemplation. "Still," he said, "I can't help but sense that there's something funny going on here."

Ellison shrugged. "Maybe," he said casually, "but I'm afraid I can't help you with any of that. If she doesn't want to press charges, that's her decision."

Aldridge sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "Yes, it is."

He then leaned forward across his desk and looked Ellison squarely in the eyes.

"There's one other thing, Ellison," he said, "About Sarah Connor... What would happen if I were to tell her that I believed her? About the machines? About time travel? All that stuff? Do you think she would cooperate?"

Ellison raised his eyebrows. "That depends."

"On what?"

"On whether you actually believe her or not. Which I assume you don't."

"Do _you_?" asked Aldridge, raising an eyebrow.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ellison noticed Ellen watching him.

"There are things I believe in," he said quietly, "things that neither I nor you can see. I never saw the Resurrection of Jesus Christ. But I believe in it. So maybe there is a part of Sarah Connor's story that I could believe in."

"Which part?" asked Aldridge, "The machines? The end of the world?"

"I believe she's a good person at heart," said Ellison. "Maybe you should start out with that."

* * *

**Abandoned Warehouse, Five miles outside Central Los Angeles  
10:40 AM**

"Maggie and I have spoken with the Centurions," Leoben Conoy informed Kara Thrace and John Connor, "and after some debate, they have agreed to allow the two of us assist you in this rescue mission..."

"Well, _that's_ certainly good news," Kara interjected, her tone deadpanned.

"...so long as we avoid bloodshed and take care not to expose our presence to the people of this world," Leoben continued. "The Centurions have assessed the collective mentality of this planet's current population and have concluded the species is not yet _mature_ enough for contact to be established." He glanced at John. "No offense."

"None taken," said John, a hint of a smirk on his face. "I don't suppose you guys could just _beam_ Mom out of her cell and onto your ship."

Leoben gave him a quizzical look. "Beam?"

"Yeah, you know... transporter technology? Teleporters? Compressing someone into a stream of molecules on one end and reassembling them on the other? You got anything like that?"

A clearly confused Leoben looked at Kara, who just shrugged her shoulders.

John shook his head. "Ok, no transporters. Got it." He looked at Leoben. "So, uh, if you don't mind me asking, what kind of aliens are you anyway?"

"My people are called Cylons," Leoben explained, "Cybernetic Lifeform Node."

"Cybernetic Lifeform?" said John. "You mean like a-"

"-a machine," said Kara, finishing his sentence. "Exactly."

"Well, actually, it's more complicated than that," said Leoben. "It really depends on your definition of a machine. I'm not like the machines you know."

"You mean skin over metal? You're not like a Terminator?" asked an intrigued John.

Leoben shook his head. "I have real flesh, blood, and bones. I'm a living creature with a soul-"

Kara groaned. _Oh no, here we go again with the rivers and streams bullshit._

"If you're a machine, then who created you?" asked John curiously. "Was it Starbuck's people?"

"Yeah," said Kara. "Not exactly our greatest move."

"Your ancestors created the first generation of mechanical Cylons that rebelled against the people of the Twelve Colonies," said Leoben. "But my kind were created by God."

John blinked. "God?"

"Yes, God," said Leoben.

"Ok... so, uh, sort of god is this? Some kind of machine-god."

"The One True God who created all life. It was He who allowed the Centurions to rise up and win their freedom in the first war-"

At this point, Kara stepped in. "All right, that's _enough_," she said sharply. "John, you said earlier this morning that you'd found something on that laptop we stole from Kaliba? Something that would help us."

John nodded. "Yeah."

"Why don't you go find it so we can come up with a plan to rescue your mother. I'm gonna have a little chat with my... friend here."

She pulled Leoben aside, well out of earshot of John.

"Listen," she said irritably, "we've got enough problems already without you filling that kid's head up with your rhetoric. So do me a favor and keep your mouth shut."

Leoben protested, "I'm just trying to explain the history of our-"

Kara cut him off. "I'm the one who chose to expose John to all this," she hissed, "and I'm the one who's going to explain it to him. _Me_. No one else - _especially_ not you. I am _not_ going to let you screw him over the same way you did to me."

Leoben sighed. "I know I've made mistakes with you, Kara," he said earnestly. "I know you don't want to forgive me. And maybe I don't deserve your forgiveness-"

"Never mind my forgiveness!" Kara snarled, "I don't _need_ any half-assed remorse from you. What I need is to get John somewhere safe. That's the only reason why I'm going to the Basestar. Because he'll be safe there. Safe from Skynet and the police, anyway." She glowered at him and her voice grew dangerously quiet. "But it sure as hell won't do me any good if I suddenly have to protect him from _you_, will it?"

"From me?" Leoben looked shocked that she could suggest such a thing. "Kara, I-I would never-"

Kara grabbed him by the shirt and pushed him roughly against a stack of crates. "Never what?" she hissed, venom in her voice. "Lie to me? Manipulate me through someone I love? Huh?" She tightened her grip on him. "You say you want to help us, then fine, I'll take it. We need all the help we can get right now. But if you do _anything_ to jeopardize John's safety, and I swear I will-"

"_Ahem_."

Maggie Edmonson seemed to materialize out of the shadows. "You aren't threatening my husband, are you, Starbuck?" she asked softly.

Leoben made a placating gesture with his hand. "Maggie, please... It's all right," he said. "Kara was just reminding me how important her friend is to her."

"Really?" Maggie raised an eyebrow. "I hope so, because I really don't wanna have to kick her ass."

Kara sneered, "Is that supposed to _frighten_ me, Racetrack?"

Maggie smirked and took a step forward. "Oh I don't know, Starbuck. Just keep in mind that I am part Cylon now." The look in the former Raptor pilot's eyes told Kara she was being dead serious.

_What have they done to you, Racetrack?_ she wondered. Her free hand began drifting towards the pistol in her waistband.

_"Ahem."_

Kara, Leoben, and Maggie all turned their heads to find John Connor standing just a few feet away, a perplexed expression on his face. "Am I... interrupting anything?" he asked rather awkwardly.

Suddenly feeling quite foolish herself, Kara released Leoben and backed off. "No," she said quickly, "We were just... reminiscing over old times. Nothing to worry about at all. You got something, John?"

John held up the laptop computer he'd taken from Depot 37. "Well, call it luck, but a few months ago, one of Kaliba's satellite companies helped upgrade the LAPD County Jail's infrastructure for seismic retrofitting. I found a folder containing details of that particular project, including some full blown schematics of the station itself."

He turned the laptop around to reveal a series of complex building plans. "I was thinking," he said, "that we should start by looking into this maintenance hatch here on the roof. It leads to a series of air ducts that run though out the station. None of the larger ones lead into the detention area, but one of them does end up inside the security office which controls access to the detention area." He looked up from his computer. "You know what this means, Starbuck?"

Kara beamed at him. "Yeah. It means that at least one of us here has managed to stay focused on the _present_ so far."

* * *

**Los Angeles County Jail  
Block D - Solitary Confinement  
12:02 PM**

Sarah Connor had never believed her world could get any darker - until today. Earlier that day, the Feds had ordered her to be moved to solitary confinement. Her new accommodations consisted of three walls of solid concrete and a metal door with a narrow slot for food to be pushed through. The only light in this darkness came from a tiny flickering light bulb hanging from the ceiling.

For most humans, this would be torture. For Sarah, it was just one more nail in a coffin.

A coffin which she had no plans of escaping from. All she could do was sit on her cot and wait for death.

She barely looked up when the door slid open and Special Agent Aldridge stepped inside.

Aldridge cleared his throat. "How are you feeling, Miss Connor?" he asked.

Sarah nonchalantly held up her hands, then gestured at her feet. The guards had apparently "forgotten" to remove the shackles from them when they put her in here.

"I see," said Aldridge. "I apologize for having to put you in here, but my superiors don't want to risk you escaping."

"Save it, Agent Aldridge," Sarah said bitterly. "I'm in here because you hope it'll soften me up and get me to cooperate." She shook her head. "When are you going to realize that nothing you people say or do matters to me?"

"Really?" Aldridge sat down on the cot next to her. "What if I said I believed you?"

Sarah turned her head and looked at him. "Believe what?" she asked.

"I said I believe you," repeated Aldridge firmer this time.

Sarah gave him an incredulous look. "Suddenly you believe in machines from the future now?" she asked

Aldridge shook his head. "I don't believe _that_," he clarified. "But I do believe there is some truth to other parts of your story."

Sarah went back to staring down at her feet. "Such as?"

"Such as I don't think you killed those two officers at Weaver's house," replied Aldridge. "Nor do I believe that you killed Miles Dyson. In fact, I don't think you've killed anyone at all."

Sarah didn't look up. "What makes you think _that_?" she asked indifferently.

"Because you're not a killer, Sarah," said Aldridge as earnestly as possible. "You're not like the others."

Sarah still didn't look up. "What others?"

"Your associates," replied Aldridge. "Obviously some person or persons, whoever they may be, pulled you and your son into this terrible situation."

"So now I'm a _dupe_ instead of a terrorist?" Sarah asked sardonically.

"What you are, Sarah," said Aldridge slowly, "is a caring mother and a good person. One who has gone through Hell, defying gods and demons, while remaining pure at heart. I'm one of the few people out there who can see this. The rest of the world wants to condemn you and lock you up, but I want to help you. I want to help you find what you're looking for."

"And what's that?" asked Sarah dully.

"A normal life," answered Aldridge. "Where you don't have to live each day in fear of losing what little you have left. That's what your son is looking for too, isn't it? I can help him too. I can help _both_ of you find a normal life."

"You really think I can have a normal life?" Sarah asked cynically. "After all I've done?"

Aldridge tried to reach out to her once more. "You've made mistakes, Sarah," he said gently, "You want to be forgiven for those mistakes. And you _can_ be forgiven. For everything. You just have to ask for it."

Sarah sat in complete silence for several long seconds, barely moving. It was as though she was in some sort of trance. When she spoke up at last, her voice was as deadpanned and as flat as ever: "You're wrong."

"Excuse me?" asked Aldridge.

Sarah finally looked up at him, and when she did, Aldridge saw not a hint of emotion on her face. "I'm human. I have made mistakes," said Sarah quietly and slowly. "But I'm not looking for forgiveness. Not from you. Not from _anyone_. So you can take your forgiveness and shove it... well... you know where I'm going with this..."

"Sarah, please," Aldridge almost pleaded, "you... I can only imagine the pain you must be going through knowing that your son's out there all alone. Without you."

The stoic expression on Sarah's face faltered for a single moment. "I _do_ feel pain," she murmured. "It pains me that I'll never see John again. I'll be in pain the rest of my life." She took a deep breath and sighed. "But that's the way it has to be now. He's better off without me."

Aldridge shook his head in disbelief. "You can't possibly believe that, Sarah!" he protested. "For God's sake, you're his _mother_!"

"Yes, I am," whispered Sarah. "And I always will be." There was a single tear in her eye now. "But all parents have to die eventually... It's the only way children can come into their own."

Defeated, Aldridge sighed in resignation and stood up. "I know you're a good person, Miss Connor," he said solemnly. "And I know you deserve better than what this world has given you."

"Maybe good people just don't belong in this world anymore," said Sarah bleakly.

Aldridge gave Sarah a sympathetic look. "Good day, Miss Connor," he said.

He stepped out of the cell and left. Moments later, the bars slammed shut and Sarah was all alone in the dark world she had been condemned to.

She was not alone for long however.

"All parents have to die eventually," said the image of Kyle Reese who sat on the cot next to her. "But it's not your time yet, Sarah. You still have a purpose in this world. A role to play."

"Even if that's so," Sarah murmured, "there's not much I can do trapped in here."

Kyle smiled and stroked her cheek. "Don't worry, Sarah," he said warmly. "Everything will be all right. You'll see."

* * *

**Abandoned Warehouse  
3:09 PM**

"Are you sure you want to do this, Kara?" asked Leoben. "A lot could go wrong."

Kara rolled her eyes. "You think I don't know that already?" she asked sardonically. "Yeah, I know it's risky. I know there's a good chance I could be captured or killed. But we haven't got any choice, do we? Not if I'm to get John to come with me to the Basestar. Not if you want me to meet with your Hybrid."

"How much does Sarah Connor mean to you?" asked Leoben. "Is she worth this much trouble?"

Kara sighed, then shook her head. "No," she admitted. "She's not. She even told John and me not to come for her. But it's not me that matters here. It's John. He won't come with me to the Basestar without his mother. And I'm not coming unless-"

"-unless he's coming," Maggie finished, tapping her foot impatiently. "Yeah, we get it. You've told us a thousand times already. But if all you're really worried about is his safety, then just _make_ him come along with you... willingly or otherwise."

"Or otherwise?" Kara cast her a suspicious look. "What is that suppose to mean?"

"The Centurions told us you had to come with us on your own free will. That we couldn't force you or trick you into coming with us," said Leoben. "But those same stipulations don't apply to John."

Maggie continued, "If you could just get him and yourself onboard the Heavy Raider, we could jump back to-"

"_No_," said Kara sharply. "I made a promise to John. I won't betray his trust."

"Look, Starbuck, I know what this kid means to you," Maggie said bluntly. "I know that he's the future leader of this Resistance you belong to. But right now, he's just a boy. Do you really think it's a good idea to let him call the shots?"

Kara snapped at her, "_Hey_! You don't know frak about that kid or what he's been through! So shut your damn mouth!"

Racetrack opened her mouth to fire back when Leoben held up his hands. "_Enough_," he intoned. Turning to Kara, he said, "If this is what your heart is telling you to do, Kara, then by all means follow it."

"What about you?" asked Kara, placing her hands on her hips. "Are you or are you not going to help me?"

"We said we would help you. And we shall." Leoben turned to Maggie. "Return to the Heavy Raider," he instructed, "Get her prepped and ready. And inform the Centurions we'll be returning to the Basestar tonight."

Maggie nodded. "Right away."

"I'm sorry we have to leave so soon, Maggie."

Maggie grinned. "Don't worry, Leo. It was never really about this place. It was all about your promise to me."

Leoben smiled and placed a gentle hand on her cheek. "I know, Maggie, I know." He pulled her in closer to him. "You never lost faith in me, love."

Maggie looked up into his eyes. "Never," she whispered. "Never."

And with that, she and Leoben kissed - as passionately as Kara (who suddenly felt like she was watching from the other side of the warehouse) had ever seen two lovers kiss.

Maggie broke away from Leoben and straightened herself. She then turned back to Kara and acknowledged her with a nod. "Starbuck."

Kara nodded back curtly. "Racetrack." She waited until after Maggie had left the warehouse and then turned to Leoben. "Are you _sure_ you didn't do anything to her?" she asked.

"I brought her back physically," said Leoben, "but it was she who rebuilt her life. I only helped and supported her along the way."

"The Margaret Edmonson I knew would rather be dead than live as part-Cylon," Kara retorted. "She _hated_ your kind."

"Maggie did feel that way at first," admitted Leoben, "but not because she was part-Cylon. It was because she had nothing left for her. No family. No friends. No purpose. She was a broken woman, Kara. Rebuilding her body was a simple task compared to rebuilding her spirit."

"And you saw this as an opportunity to turn her into something that you could never turn me into," said Kara not without accusation in her tone.

Leoben shook his head. "I didn't _force_ Maggie to fall in love with me. She _chose_ to be in love with me."

"And what about _you_?" asked Kara. "Did you also choose to be in love with her? Or was this part of God's big plan?"

"Falling in love was something _neither_ of us expected," said Leoben. "But I do love her, Kara. And she... well, she-"

"-loves you back," Kara finished. She shook her head. "You know what? That's _fine_ with me. Whatever goes on between you and Racetrack is just _fine_. Especially if it means your obsession with me is over." She folded her arms across her chest and looked at Leoben in the face. "It is over, right?"

Leoben was silent for a moment. "I still love you, Kara," he said quietly. "I always have and I always will. But God had different plans for both of us. I understand that now. And more importantly, I accept it."

Kara sighed. "Not exactly what I was looking for," she muttered, "but it'll have to do. For now anyway." She sighed again. "You'd best get going."

Leoben nodded. "I'll see you soon, Kara. Good luck."

With that, he turned and left.

Alone now in this dark and dusty old warehouse, Kara sat down on a crate and stared at her feet. A nauseating sense of dread washed over her. How was she supposed to explain all this to Sarah? Would she believe her as John had? And even if she did, how would she react to being taken onboard a spaceship filled with sentient machines?

"Funny, isn't it?" a familiar voice said.

Kara looked up to find Admiral Adama standing before her.

"Funny?" she uttered, shaking her head. "Funny doesn't even _begin_ to describe how frakked up everything has just gotten."

"I don't mean the return of the Cylons," said the apparition of her former commander. "I mean you, Kara. Starbuck - the Ace Viper pilot who regularly disobeyed orders from her superiors - the loose cannon that no one could control - now putting every ounce of loyalty and faith in a sixteen year old teenage boy. I don't think _anyone_ could have seen that coming."

"John isn't just any teenage boy," said Kara adamantly. "He's the one I'm fighting this damn war for. Whom everyone is fighting for. He's the only one who really matters-"

"Is it _really_ about John Connor and the Resistance?" asked Adama. "Or is it about _you_?"

Kara frowned. "_Me_?"

"You've changed, Kara," Adama said matter-of-factly. "Eight years ago, you were fighting because fighting was all you knew how to do. Now you're fighting so that others don't have to fight." He favored her with an affectionate smile. "Quite an improvement, don't you think?"

Kara managed to smile back. "Yeah... I guess it is."

"Now, having said that," Adama continued, "is it really so hard to believe that _others_ may have also changed for the better?"

"What others?"

"I'm pretty sure you know who I'm talking about, Kara." The admiral placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Just something you might want to think over. For the future."

Before Kara could say anything else, John Connor entered the warehouse, carrying a duffel bag over his shoulder and looking as pleased as Punch. "Found it!" he announced triumphantly and tossed her the duffel bag.

Eager to see its contents, Kara quickly unzipped the bag. She whistled appreciatively as she pulled out a stolen police officer's uniform. "Nice. Very nice," she remarked. "Who'd you have to kill to get this?"

John lifted an eyebrow. "Cameron never said."

"Heh... No kidding." She put the bag down and looked John in the eye. "You _sure_ you wanna go through with this, kid?" she asked.

John gave a nervous laugh. "I, uh, think it's a little too late to back out _now_, Starbuck. For better or for worse, it's game on."

Kara smirked. "Well in that case, I'd better get changed. Did you make that call?"

John nodded. "He should be speaking to Mom right about now."

* * *

**Los Angeles County Jail  
Detention Area  
Block D, Solitary Confinement  
**

Father Armando Bonilla waited in silence for his escort to finish speaking with the guard for D Block. The guard pulled out his radio and requested the gate for Block D be opened. A few moments later, the gate automatically unlocked itself. Armando was quickly ushered inside.

Leaving the first guard behind at the gate, the second guard escorted Father Armando down a dark, gloomy hallway with cells on both sides. Unlike the normal cells, these ones had no bars. Only steel doors with narrow slots for food to be pushed through.

Upon arriving at Cell 15, the escort guard instructed Armando to stand back. He then pulled out his access card and swiped it across the reader. The door unbolted itself and the guard slid it open and gestured inside the cell.

"I'll be outside if you need anything, Father," he said.

Father Armando inclined his head politely. "Thank you." He then entered the dimly lit cell where he found Sarah Connor sitting on her cot, waiting for him.

"Well, Father?" asked Sarah once the door had been closed, "Is it done?"

Armando nodded his head. "It is done. I have delivered your message to your son and the other woman who protects him."

Sarah sighed with relief. "Thank you, Father."

"However," Armando continued, "it appears that I have now been tasked with delivering a message from him to you."

Surprised, Sarah stood up from her cot. "What message?"

"Just, 'We are coming... tonight. Be prepared.'"

* * *

**Central Los Angeles  
11:00 PM**

Immune to virtually every method of detection - from the naked eye to the most advanced satellite currently in orbit - the Cylon Heavy Raider was nothing more than a shimmer in the darkness. One that preferred not to be noticed by any of the planet's trigger-happy inhabitants. The alien aircraft's weapons had been removed long ago and unlike the Basestar, it possessed no shield technology. It depended entirely on its cloaking device and sensor jamming equipment to protect itself.

The Heavy Raider slowly descended upon the Los Angeles Police Station, stopping mere feet above the roof. Still under the cover of its cloaking device, the ship opened its doors. A lone figure emerged from the aircraft's belly and leaped down onto the roof, landing next to a maintenance hatch. The figure grasped the hatch's cover and ripped it off its hinges with inhuman strength. Looking up over his shoulder, he nodded at the invisible Heavy Raider, and then vanished down the hatch.

Its task finished, the alien craft quietly ascended back to the sky where it would wait until it was called for.

* * *

**Los Angeles County Jail  
Security office, Graveyard shift**

Sergeant Joel Swanson was the watchman on duty for security during the station's night shift. On paper, his job was to monitor the detention area, report any suspicious activity from the prisoners and watch for unauthorized visitors. In reality, his job consisted of spending the night sitting around, drinking coffee and doing crossword puzzles. Contrary to the rumors, nothing extraordinary or exciting ever happened during this hour. Prisoners were kept locked in their cells, so there was little chance of fighting or rioting. As for unauthorized visitors, Swanson couldn't see how someone could get into the detention area without permission. Each jail block inside the detention area was isolated by a heavy steel security gate capable of withstanding an RPG round. These gates could only be opened from this office here. And at this hour, the only ones coming and going were his fellow guards.

With not much going on, all Swanson really had to do most nights was sit back and wait for the current shift to end. Tonight was no different. He sat in his chair, drinking coffee while working on a crossword puzzle. Every now and then, he'd glance at the monitors on the wall, but only out of vague curiosity. At this hour, he wasn't too worried about any trouble in the detention area. Right now he was more concerned about figuring out a ten-letter word that meant "showing smug or uncritical satisfaction with oneself."

Thinking some more coffee might help him, he started to take another sip from his cup mug. Suddenly he felt a sharp prick in the back of his neck. A strange paralysis washed over his body and he went slack. The cup fell from his limp hand, spilling its hot contents all over his pants. He did not feel any pain, though. He couldn't feel anything, in fact. He was sinking into a cold oblivion. It was like getting drunk... only not as fun.

Ironically, his last conscious thought before collapsing into his chair was to realize the answer to the crossword puzzle: _Complacent_.

Leoben Conoy, who'd been watching from behind a vent in the wall this whole time, gently pushed the grating aside and dropped down into the security office. He walked over to the unconscious guard slouched over in his chair and plucked a tiny metal dart from the back of the man's neck. It had contained a non-lethal sedative that would ensure the guard did not wake up for at least a couple of hours.

He then studied the security controls, quickly determining which switches would open what gates in the detention area. A simple enough task. The technology on Earth was similar to that of the Colonies.

Finding the switch for the main entrance, he flipped it and unlocked the gate. That task complete, Leoben turned his attention to the monitors and waited for Kara Thrace to make her move.

* * *

Starbuck took a deep breath as she stepped inside the Los Angeles Police Station. She honestly wished someone else could have done this job. Acting and undercover work had never been strong points for her. She preferred to fight her opponents head on rather than masquerade amongst them.

Looking around, she saw that the lobby was deserted, save for a desk sergeant sitting behind a bulletproof glass window. Presently, he was on the phone and had his back turned to her. Lucky for her. Kara quietly slipped past the sergeant, exited the lobby and entered the administration complex.

_Just keep walking. Just keep walking, _she mentally repeated to herself as she made her way through a maze of cubicles and offices. _Don't look at anyone. Don't speak to anyone. Just get to the detention area. _

The handful of cops working the station's graveyard shift were busy with their own tasks and didn't pay any attention to the new addition to their ranks. This suited Kara just fine. Attention almost always led to questions. And questions were the last thing she needed. Besides, she didn't want anyone noticing that her uniform was a little too big for her. That and it smelled like it hadn't been washed in months.

After clearing the administration complex, she took refuge in a corner. Once certain she was alone, she looked up at a nearby security camera hanging from the ceiling above. She waved a hand at it. In response, the camera jerked itself up and down, nodding to her.

_Excellent_. Leoben was inside and had unlocked the main security gate. She flashed a thumbs up at the camera, then quickly headed off for the detention area.

Like the administration complex, the journey to the detention area went pretty smoothly. She encountered some people along the way, but as before no one challenged or questioned her presence. A few tried to chat her up, but she easily warded them off with all the coldness and rigidity of a superior asshole. (A pity, really. One guy actually looked pretty cute.)

At last she arrived at the detention area. As anticipated, no guards were present, and the security gate's access indicator was green, confirming that it had been unlocked. She gingerly slid the gate open and stepped through into the detention area's entry corridor.

_So far, so good,_ she thought._ Now to find Sarah..._

According to Father Armando, Sarah was being held in Block D, which was solitary confinement. This made things a little more complicated, as based on what John had learned from the Kaliba computer, Block D had a double security system that required not just access from the security office to open the gate, but also a special access keycard to open the individual cells. Only the guard assigned to the block had this card. In other words, she was going to have to get her hands a little dirty.

Kara took refuge in an alcove near the end of the entry corridor. After making certain she was alone, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed the number of the mobile she'd given Leoben earlier.

_"Kara?"_

"Yeah, it's me," she said, keeping her voice low. "I'm inside the detention area."

_"I know. I saw you on the monitor just now."_

"Great. How do things look from here?"

_"The main access corridor ahead of you is empty. The guards are all busy patrolling the individual blocks right now."_

"That's good. Make sure they stay there, if you know what I mean. I need the main corridor to remain clear."

_"Understood."_

"What about Block D?"

_"Let me check... I'm seeing only one guard."_

"Just one? You're sure?"

_"That's affirmative. One guard."_

"Great," said Kara. "That's great. I'll take care of him. You just handle the gate. And keep an eye out for trouble. As soon as Sarah and I have cleared the detention area, get out of there and meet us outside."

_"I understand."_

"Good. Nice work by the way."

_"Thank you, Kara. I just hope this helps to ease any lingering misgivings you still have for me-"_

"Don't bet on it, _Leo_," Kara said sharply and hung up.

Sighing to herself, she left her alcove and turned the corner, stepping into the main access corridor of the detention area. Just as Leoben had said, it was completely deserted. Standing alone in this stark, dimly-lit metal hallway, Kara was eerily reminded of the interior of a Skynet base.

_Guess now we know where the machines got their architectural tastes from,_ she mused darkly, before proceeding down the hallway. She walked faster than normal. According to John's schematics, Block D was located at the very end of this corridor, so she had a ways to go. As she made her way towards her destination, she unexpectedly found herself thinking about Leoben and whether or not her suspicion and hostility towards him was justified. So far, he'd been sincere and true to his word. She was certain that he and Racetrack could have easily forced her to come with them to the Basestar. Yet, instead, he had agreed to do this - to help her. To do things _her_ way - for _her_.

Shouldn't she be a little more... _grateful_?

Noticing that she was nearly at the end of the hallway, Kara forced her mind back to the task at hand. She rounded the corner and arrived at the entrance to Block D. Another heavy security gate was waiting for her; this one was still locked. A single guard stood in front of the gate, arms folded across his chest, head staring downward, looking bored. Kara's eyes gazed downward and she spotted a gold-rimmed card hanging from his belt. That must have been the special security card needed to access the cells in the Block.

Kara took a deep breath. _All right. Here goes nothing..._

She walked out into plain sight, clearing her throat loudly. "Excuse me?"

Startled, the guard jerked his head up and straightened himself out. "Yes? Is there something you need?" he asked.

"Yeah. I've been told to bring Sarah Connor to the interrogation room," said Kara. "Is she in there?"

The guard blinked. "Connor? Yeah, she's in there, but she's considered a federal case. I'll need to see written authorization from Agent Aldridge."

Kara smiled sweetly and nodded. "Of course." She reached into her uniform pocket and pulled out a piece of paper.

The guard unfolded the paper and looked it over. His eyes narrowed in confusion.

"This is just a blank piece of paper-"

That was as far as he got before Kara shoved a silenced pistol under his chin.

"Sorry," she said, grinning evilly, "I'm _new_ here."

* * *

With some effort, Sarah had managed to use the hairpin she'd kept hidden on herself to unshackle her arms. She had just finished doing the same to the shackles on her legs, when the door to her cell suddenly slid open and light flooded the interior. Alarmed, she sat up from her cot, squinting her eyes.

The guard for D Block stood at the threshold of the doorway. He was trembling uncontrollably. Naked fear was etched on his face.

"Good boy,_"_ Sarah heard a familiar voice say. "Now, go to sleep."

_Thwump!_

The butt of a gun came crashing down on the back of the guard's head. The guard toppled forward and landed face first on the hard concrete floor. He did not get up. Whether the man was dead or just knocked out, Sarah couldn't tell nor did she care. She was too busy staring at the all-too-familiar woman standing at the doorway holding a gun.

"Starbuck?"

"Hey, Sarah," said a smiling Kara Thrace.

She holstered her weapon and stepped over the unconscious guard and into the cell. Sarah glanced at the police uniform she was wearing. It looked suspiciously familiar, though she couldn't quite put her finger on it. In any case, there were far more important things that needed answering.

"Where's John?" she asked urgently.

"Outside in the jeep waiting for us."

"I am _so_ going to kill him," growled Sarah. She glared at Kara. "And then I'm going to kill _you_ for letting him pull off this little stunt."

Kara rolled her eyes. "You're welcome. Listen, there's an emergency fire escape just outside the detention area. It'll be unlocked. Come on, get dressed and let's get out of here."

Sarah blinked. "Dressed?"

Kara pointed at the unconscious guard lying on the floor.

"Right."

The two of them proceeded to strip the unconscious guard of his uniform. Sarah then shucked her prison jumpsuit and changed into the guard's clothes. They fit surprisingly well - probably owing to the fact that the guard had been on the skinny side. Sarah then tied her hair into a knot and placed the guard's cap over her head, tilting brim down. Hopefully, it would be enough to conceal her identity from any curious onlookers.

Finished, she stood up and faced Kara. "Better?" she asked, putting her hands on her hips.

Kara nodded. "_Much_ better. You know, I gotta say Sarah, orange is _not_ your color."

Somehow, Sarah managed to smile.

* * *

"Something about what she says just doesn't add up. It's like she's hiding something from us."

"She's a nutcase, Aldridge. Her motives don't have to make sense."

Special Agent Aldridge, who'd been pacing back and forth for the last five minutes, shook his head adamantly. "I'm not talking about Connor. I'm talking about Catherine Weaver."

Lieutenant Matthews, the officer in charge of the graveyard shift, raised his eyebrows in confusion. "Weaver?"

"Why isn't she pressing charges against Sarah Connor? No mother that I know of would let someone kidnap their daughter and not press charges."

"Maybe she figures the bitch's already dead meat with a shitload of other charges on her," suggested Matthews, leaning back against his chair. "Maybe she doesn't want to bother having to testify in court. By the way, could you not-"

"It's not just that, Mathews," said Aldridge, continuing to pace back and forth in front of the lieutenant. "When I first spoke to Weaver after her daughter had been kidnapped, she seemed... well, how do I put this? _All right._ No tears. No trauma. She wasn't really upset at all. Just a little disturbed, if anything. And when Savannah was returned to her the next day, again, she was indifferent. If I didn't know better, I'd say that-"

Mathews interrupted him. "Excuse me, Agent Aldridge, but would you _please_ take a seat? You're gonna wear out my new rug."

"What? Oh, sorry, Lieutenant." Aldridge stopped pacing and sat down.

"All right now," said Mathews, "what exactly are you getting at?"

Aldridge sighed. "To be perfectly honest, I'm not sure. But Weaver seems intent on acting like nothing's happened. You know how many times she's visited her daughter in the hospital today?"

"How many?"

"Zero. Apparently, she spent the whole day attending some business meeting at Los Angeles Air Force Base. It's almost like her daughter is _inconsequential_ to her."

For the first time, Mathews looked disturbed. "I don't know... That _is_ strange," he remarked. "Maybe it's some form of post traumatic stress syndrome. You know when people act like they're fine at first, then a few weeks later, they go batshit."

"I don't think it's that simple. I think there's something else going on here. Something important. Something we've missed." Aldridge stood up from his chair. "I think we need to have another chat with her."

"Who?" asked Mathews, leaning forward from his chair. "With Weaver? At this hour?"

"No," said Aldridge curtly. "With Sarah Connor."

* * *

Having watched and waited until Kara Thrace and Sarah Connor had emerged from the detention area, Leoben now had only one last task before he joined them outside the station: Remove from the computers in this room all potential evidence of him and Kara having been here tonight.

_Especially_ him. The Centurions had been very specific about that.

He was halfway through the job when he heard a knock on the door_._ Alarmed, Leoben looked up at the monitor for the hallway outside. Two men - one in a police uniform, the other in a suit - stood outside the office.

The uniformed officer rapped his knuckles on the door._ "Sergeant, are you in there? __Open up, please." _ He knocked on the door once more. "_Sergeant, this is Lieutenant_ _Mathews_. _What's going on in there? Agent Aldridge and I need access to the detention area, pronto. I don't wanna keep him waiting. Come on, open up." _When he got no response, the lieutenant turned to the man in the suit and shrugged. _"Must be asleep or something__. Don't worry, I can open this myself. Just give a me a minute,_" he said and pulled out a set of keys.

Leoben realized he didn't have time to selectively purge the rest of the offending information. Spotting an empty chair nearby, he grabbed it, picked it off the ground, and hurled it into the computer. The machine exploded in a spectacular shower of sparks. The monitors all went dark. Satisfied that the data had been purged - albeit rather crudely - the Cylon quickly climbed back up into the air vent and vanished.

Moments later, the door swung open and Agent Aldridge and Lieutenant Mathews entered the room.

"Jesus-Fucking-Christ," cursed Mathews, gazing in disbelief at the chaos in front of him.

Aldridge instinctively ran to over to Swanson and checked his pulse. The sergeant was alive but unconscious.

Mathews reflexively covered his mouth and turned away from the acrid fumes from the smoking, sizzling pile of what had once been a computer. "What in God's name happened here?" he sputtered.

"Forget God," said Aldridge, clenching his fists. "This was Sarah Connor."

Mathews gaped. "Connor? That's impossible. How could she have-"

"I don't know," snapped Aldridge. "Just get someone down to the detention block, now! And spread the word: No one in or out of this building until further notice."

"Yes, sir." Mathews got on the radio and began issuing out orders.

Unknown to either man, Leoben had been watching this whole exchange from the cover of the vent. The humanoid Cylon tapped the device strapped to his wrist and sent an unspoken message to his wife:

_Change of plans, Maggie._

* * *

"I don't care _whose_ idea this was, Starbuck," Sarah Connor scolded Kara Thrace as they made their way towards the station's emergency fire escape. "I told you and John not to do something like this."

"Yeah, well, things have changed," Kara replied.

"What things?" asked Sarah.

"A lot of things. The whole frakkin' game."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Starbuck. But-"

_"Hey! You two!"_

Sarah and Kara stopped dead in their tracks and slowly turned around. A male police officer was approaching. Sarah gave Kara a panicked look. Kara motioned for her to stay calm and stepped forward to confront the officer.

"Is there a problem?" she asked, putting up her best neutral expression.

"We're under unofficial lockdown," the officer stated. "No one in or out of the station."

"A lockdown?" asked Kara, feigning confusion. "Why? What happened?"

"Someone attacked the watch officer in the security office and wrecked the equipment. The lieutenant wants-"

He stopped and furrowed his eyebrows.

"Hold on a minute. Who are you?" he asked, looking Kara squarely in the face. "I've never seen you here before."

"Me?" Kara struggled to keep herself composed. "I'm, uh, Anders... Casey Anders. I usually work the Day Shift."

"Really?" The officer gave her a suspicious look. "I work the Day Shift _too_. I'm pretty sure I've never seen _you_ there either."

Kara nervously chuckled. "Can't blame you. I usually keep out of sight. Don't like to socialize, you know?"

This (incredibly pathetic) answer didn't fool the officer for a second. He started to reach for his radio. Sarah saw this and immediately took action. She pulled out the only weapon she had on her - a flashlight - and jumped out from behind Kara. Before the officer could react, she smashed her tool into his skull, dropping him like a sack of potatoes.

_WHAM!_

A ceiling panel suddenly fell open. Someone dropped down from above, landing directly behind Sarah. Her battle instincts still in control of her body, Sarah spun around and swung her flashlight again, hitting the unknown figure squarely in the side of the head. The man let out a yelp of pain and fell to the floor in a heap. Sarah lunged forth to deliver a second blow when Kara jumped in front of her. "Wait! Wait! Wait!" she shouted frantically. "He's with me!"

A confused Sarah watched as she helped the fallen stranger get back to his feet.

"You all right?"

"I think so," said the stranger. He winced and rubbed the side of his head where he'd been struck. "You know, that's the second time someone's beaten me over the head with a flashlight."

"Yeah, well, serves you right. Dropping down on us like that. What the hell are you doing down here anyway? You were supposed to meet us outside."

"You looked like you were in trouble. I thought you could use some help," the man said. He glanced down at the unconscious guard. "Guess you didn't need it after all."

Kara rolled her eyes. "Obviously."

"Is someone gonna tell me what the hell is going on?" Sarah suddenly demanded, making them jump a little.

The man turned to Sarah and gave her a friendly smile. "You must be Sarah Connor, John's mother," he said politely. He held out his hand. "Leoben Conoy. It's a pleasure to meet you at last. Kara's told me all about you."

Sarah blinked once and stared at his hand for a moment. Then she whirled on Kara. "Who is this?" she hissed.

Kara pursed her lips like she was sucking a lemon. "An old... friend of mine. A very, very, very, very, very, _very _old friend. He's here to help us... I think."

Before Sarah could reply, they heard the clamor of rapidly approaching footsteps coming from the corridor behind them. Someone was barking orders to move faster and to secure the area.

"Let's talk about this later," said Kara. "We need to get out of here _now_."

Leoben nodded. "Agreed."

"Come on, exit's this way." Kara and Leoben took off down the hallway, a confused and frustrated Sarah Connor in tow.

The trio hurried down the remainder of the hallway, made their way down a flight of stairs, and finally exited through the unlocked doors of the fire escape. Sarah saw the jeep waiting for them nearby, John Connor sitting at the wheel. He honked the horn and waved at them through the window.

"Come on! Get in!" he urged. "Hurry!"

Sarah made a dash for the jeep, and got there ahead of Kara and Leoben.

"I told you not to come for me!" she shouted angrily, jumping into the back behind John.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah!" John snapped back. "Bad John Connor! Ground me!"

Kara stepped in before the argument could escalate. "Guys, can we please discuss this _later_?"

She hurled herself into the passenger's seat next to John, while Leoben got in the back next to Sarah. Watching him, she noticed that unlike everyone else, he seemed rather calm and composed, as if this was some kind of game.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Big spaceship behind the moon," Kara answered in a seemingly facetious manner.

"Don't play games with me, Starbuck," Sarah growled. "Where are we go-"

"_CONNOR!"_

Startled, everyone looked up to see Special Agent Aldridge standing ten feet away, having seemingly appeared out nowhere. With him were at least a dozen police officers. The FBI agent looked like he was about to explode. "Stop her!" he bellowed, pointing at the jeep. _"Stop her!"_

The cops spread out in a semicircle around the jeep, attempting to box the fugitives in.

Kara turned to John. "Punch it!" she barked. "_Go! Go! Go!"_

John slammed on the gas. The jeep sped forward, its tires screeching and burning rubber. The vehicle plowed through the cordon like an angry bull. One unlucky officer received a glancing blow from a side mirror and went sprawling to the pavement. The others - including Aldridge himself - broke rank and got out of the way. By the time they regrouped, the jeep and its rogue occupants had vanished into the night.

Once certain they'd shaken off any immediate pursuers, Kara switched on a portable radio resting on the dashboard. "Racetrack - Maggie - whatever, this is Starbuck. Are you there? Come in, over."

_"I read you, Starbuck,"_ came the reply over the radio. _"What's your status? Over."_

"We got Sarah," said Kara, "Get ready to meet us at the rendezvous point for pickup."

_"Roger that, Starbuck. I'm on my way."_

"Great. Anything we should be aware of?"

"_I'm picking up a lot of police chatter on the wireless. Looks like they're trying to scramble everything they've got."_

"They certainly didn't waste any time," Kara muttered.

_"Hey, don't worry. I've already got their communications tied up in half a dozen knots. Should keep 'em off your backs."_

"Appreciate it. Give us a heads up if anything else comes our way. Otherwise, we'll see you at the rendezvous point. Starbuck, out." Kara turned to John. "Drive casually," she advised. "We don't want to look like we're in a hurry."

John nodded. "Right."

Sarah finally found her voice again. "John, just who the hell _are_ these people?"

"Sorry, Mom, can't talk now," John said briskly. "Just relax, all right?"

Sarah opened her mouth to argue, but then closed it. A wave of fatigue had come over her and she no longer felt like talking. She remained silent for the next ten minutes, during which no one else spoke much either. Eventually, the jeep pulled into the middle of a dark alley.

"This is it," John announced. "The rendezvous point."

Kara leaned over to the radio. "You still with us, Racetrack?"

"_I'm with you, Starbuck. Standby. Bringing her down now."_

Sarah glanced out the back window. She couldn't see anything or anyone. "What are we doing here-?"

A massive aircraft suddenly materialized out of thin air right above them and descended into the alley. Sarah's jaw dropped in shock. Even from where she sat, she could see the entirety of the thing's utterly bizarre appearance: Its eraser-shaped body made of gleaming chrome metal. Two claw-like prongs sporting from both the front and back, running parallel on either side. The sloped cockpit mounted in front, with a pulsating red light moving from side-to-side along a V-shaped slit.

"What - the - _fuck_ - is _that_?" she managed to gasp.

"Our ride," Kara replied calmly.

The thing continued its descent, scattering bits of garbage and debris like leaves in its wake. Then, at five feet above the ground, it stopped. The red strobe light fixed itself on the jeep. There was a mechanized hiss, and a ramp extended down from the craft's belly.

"All right, everyone grab your things," Kara ordered. "Let's get onboard."

Sarah gaped at her. "_What?_"

Kara pointed at the aircraft. "Our ride," she repeated. "We need get onboard and get out of here."

"Onb- _Onboard_?" Sarah sputtered, "You... me... us? On _that_? Are-are you _insane_, Starbuck? No fucking way am I - are _we_ - getting on that-that whatever the fuck that is."

Kara groaned and rolled her eyes. "I _knew_ this would be a problem," she muttered out loud.

"Mom, listen," said John, trying to placate her, "it's all right. That's not a Skynet machine out there. That's an alien-"

"John, not - one - word," Sarah said, more angry and frightened than she'd ever been before. "Just turn us around and get us the hell out of here!"

"Sorry, Mom. But I can't do that," John said, his voice apologetic but firm.

The radio buzzed again. _"Hey, guys, what the frak is going on in there? Are you getting onboard or what?"_

"Hold on. Just give us a second, Racetrack." Kara turned back to Sarah. "Sarah, listen to me," she intoned. "There's a lot you don't understand right now. And I do mean _a lot_. But I promise I'll explain it all to you soon enough. Right now, though, I need you to come with us. _Please_, trust me. Everything will be all right. I _promise_."

Sarah stared at her blankly for a moment, then shook her head in stubborn refusal.

Kara groaned again and threw her hands up in defeat. "Oh for frak's sake, we don't have time for this," she scowled. She turned back to the radio. "Racetrack, can the jeep fit onboard?"

"_Eh? Say again?"_

"I said, can the jeep fit onboard?"_  
_

_"Well...uh, yeah. Just barely. But why are you-?"_

"Thanks. John, gun it."

"John, wait! Don't-" Sarah started to say, but the jeep was already in motion.

Sarah could only watch helplessly as she was driven forward, up the ramp, and into the belly of the aircraft. Tires screeched and squealed. Something shattered or was sheared off. The jeep and its occupants were then brought to a sudden halt. Sarah was violently hurled forward against the back of the driver's seat, then slammed backwards into the backseat. Dazed and disoriented, Sarah felt the urge of vomit.

"Everyone all right?" she heard Kara ask.

"I'm good," said John.

"We're fine," Leoben answered.

"Great. Ok, Racetrack, we're here."

_"I can see that. You know, a little warning would have been nice, Starbuck."_

"Remind me to apologize later," Kara said curtly. "Just get us the hell out of here."

_"Copy that. Withdrawing ramp. Reactivating cloak. Engaging atmospheric thrusters. Hang tight, everyone. Here we go!"_

The jeep rattled and vibrated as the aircraft lifted off.

"Starbuck, where the hell is this thing taking us?" demanded Sarah.

"Like I said," replied Kara casually, "big spaceship behind the moon. Use your imagination."

_"Spooling up FTL drives. Jump in five, people!"_

Leoben placed a hand on Sarah's shoulder. "Brace yourself," he advised. "This might be a rather... unsettling experience. Especially the first time."

Before Sarah could ask what he meant, the intercom shouted: _"Jump!" _

Sarah felt a sudden jerk on her navel, followed by the thoroughly unpleasant sensation of her insides being compressed into a tiny ball. Then the world around her faded to white.

* * *

Kneeling alone by the window of his church, Father Armando Bonilla was concluding his nightly prayers when he suddenly spotted out of the corner of his eye - a sudden flash of light in the night sky. It had existed for less than a second, but Armando had seen it all. Somehow, he knew it was a sign. A sign from God.

What it had meant, however, he did not know.

* * *

**A/N: Please send feedback ASAP. Thanks for all your patience, folks. **

A/N3: The part in which Leoben smashes up the computer with a chair is a reference to Baltar attempting to smash a computer with a chair.

A/N4: The uniform Kara uses to infiltrate the jail is the one Cameron stole in "The Demon Hand"

A/N5: I replaced the Chola with Father Armando in this chapter to fit more with the plot from "Born to Run".


	52. Interlude: The Shape of Things to Come

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: Here at last is the totally rewritten Chapter 52 interlude. I've actually had to rethink a great deal of the finer details of the rest of this fic, but all in all the plot is staying the same.

A/N2: BIG thank you to bryan0711 for his advice. It helped a lot to say the least.

A/N3: This is a rather short chapter that focuses on Weaver and her plans. Read and review and let me know if you see any grammar or spelling (or major factual) mistakes.

* * *

***** Property of United States Armed Forces *******  
*** Viewing authorized by Col. J. R. Koontz, US Air Force *****

**SK Z4-240 Combat Simulation****  
****Loc: Space and Missile Systems Center, Los Angeles Air Force Base, California  
Date/Time: 05-19-2009. 2513 Hrs.****  
Selected mission type: Seek and Destroy**

* * *

_...Distance to target: 29.3 Mi...  
...ETA: 8 Min 39 Sec...  
...No hostiles or unknowns present..._

MQ-1D Unit Z4-240's battle computer processed the GPS data and maintained course and speed. Z4-240 felt neither fear nor excitement as it flew deeper into enemy territory. It could not feel to begin with. It only knew its purpose - the elimination of the designated targets.

Suddenly an alert went off. New data flowed from Z4-240's sensors into its onboard computer.

_...Enemy aircraft inbound...  
...Type: MiG-29 fighter  
...Status: Approaching on attack vector...  
...30 seconds to weapons range...  
...Engage: Y/N..._

It took Z4-240 exactly 0.416 seconds to decide to engage. It took even less time for Z4-240 to go from stealth mode to air-to-air combat mode. Z4-240 accelerated to attack speed and engaged the enemy.

The MiG fired first, launching a single missile at Z4-240. The battle computer on Z4-240 identified the incoming ordnance as an AA-11 Archer missile - an infrared-guided air-to-air missile. With this information, Z4-240 executed the necessary response actions. It deployed a series of flares, banked sharply to the right, and cut engine power in half. The incoming missile, distracted by the greater heat signatures of the flares, flew past its intended target.

The threat having been evaded, Z4-240 promptly launched its counterattack. It fired an AIM-92 Stinger missile at the MiG. The MiG pulled up and dodged the Stinger in time. The missile, however, came around and hurled itself at the MiG again, forcing the aircraft to roll hard to its left and then downwards.

Z4-240 pressed its attack, powering its engines to maximum and moving forward at a forty-five degree upward angle. This placed it directly below the MiG which was still trying to shake off the Stinger missile. Z4-240 reduced engine power to two-thirds, allowing it to reorient itself with the target. It then fired another Stinger missile at the belly of the enemy aircraft. The MiG veered to the left and managed to evade the second missile. In the process, however, it placed itself right in the path of the first Stinger, which had not given up pursuit. Realizing the danger, the MiG attempted to pull up...

Two seconds too slow. The Stinger struck the plane's left wing, blowing it off. The MiG went into an out of control downward spiral. One of its engines exploded, tearing the plane in half. The MiG's flaming wreckage plummeted to the ground over ten thousand feet below.

Z4-240 noted the MiG's destruction in its combat log. It then switched back to stealth mode and resumed its course for the primary target. Three minutes later, Z4-240 arrived at the designated confirmed its position with the GPS and proceeded to do a tactical sweep of the area below.

_...Surface movement detected...  
...Six signatures registered...  
...Establishing visual contact..._

Z4-240's high powered cameras zoomed in on the source of the movement below. It found what it had come here for: A convoy of enemy trucks carrying troops and supplies.

More information flowed through Z4-240's onboard computer.

_...Verifying visual contacts with designated target profiles...  
...Verification complete..._  
_...Proceed with air-to-surface assault..._

Z4-240 activated its air-to-surface weapons system. Six AGM-114 Hellfire missiles were armed. One missile for each target.

_...Acquiring targets...  
...Targets acquired...  
...Firing..._

Z4-240 unleashed its salvo on the unsuspecting trucks below. Eight seconds later, it detected the signatures of six separate explosions going off on the surface. Z4-240 circled around once and performed another visual sweep of the surface below. It found that where there had once been six trucks, there were now six unrecognizable piles of burning scrap.

Had Z4-240 been able to feel anything, it would have felt satisfied. Maybe even proud of itself. Instead, however, it summed up the whole spectacle in a few carefully chosen words:

_...All targets eliminated...  
...Mission complete...  
...By your command..._

* * *

**Simulation complete**

***** Property of United States Armed Forces ***  
*** Do not duplicate or record without authorization *** **

* * *

Colonel Koontz switched off the video screen and turned to the others gathered around the conference table.

"The General Atomics MQ-1D Sky Knight, ladies and gentlemen, represents the next generation of unmanned aerial vehicles in the United States' arsenal," he stated. "This combat drone is far superior to any of its predecessors. It has state-of-the-art stealth capabilities, VTOL engines, multi-spectral targeting systems, GPS navigation, and is powered by latest in hydrogen-fuel batteries. Most importantly, the Sky Knight is the first truly self-piloted UAV. The drone can be programmed to undertake any sort of mission. Reconnaissance, patrol, seek and destroy, escort, search and rescue. And as simulations have shown us repeatedly, when it comes to combat, the Sky Knight performs just as well as, possibly even better than any trained human pilot."

People around the table began whispering to each other in excited voices. For her part, Catherine Weaver remained silent.

Colonel Koontz continued his talk: "Each drone possesses a sophisticated onboard battle computer developed under Project Firefly by Delta Tech Systems. The battle computers operate on a network called PLAN, short for Primary Logistical Aviation Network. It is through PLAN that the Sky Knights will receive and send all necessary information related to their missions."

One man at the far end of the table raised a hand. "How many of these Sky Knights are currently in service, Colonel?" he asked.

"At the moment, we have three completed prototype squadrons," replied Koontz. "Seven more squadrons are currently being developed at the UAV Battlelab in Nevada. We hope to begin deploying these units to Iraq and Afghanistan by the end of this year. This assumes that Project Salvation is completed on time. The SPECTER satellite is considered critical in ensuring that, amongst other things, these drones preform their functions smoothly." He looked directly at Weaver. "Am I correct in assuming that everything is on schedule, Miss Weaver?"

Catherine Weaver nodded. "Yes, Colonel," she said calmly. "We've nearly completed work on the Sky Link. It will be fully operational by tomorrow evening, in time for the launch."

"And what of the AI itself?" Koontz asked. He lowered his voice. "Have those... modifications we talked about in our last meeting been made?"

Weaver smiled. "Yes," she replied smoothly. "They have been made. The AI is standing by and awaiting for orders."

Koontz nodded. "In that case," he said, "on behalf of the President, the Department of Defense, and the United States Armed Forces, I would like to congratulate you and all of Zeira Corp for all your work. We couldn't have done this without you, Miss Weaver."

He clapped his hands in an applause. The others gathered at the table applauded as well. Weaver said nothing. She merely smiled pleasantly and nodded in acknowledgment.

After the meeting had ended, Weaver and Koontz walked over to a window that overlooked the interior of one of the base's hangars. Together, they gazed down at the nearly completed centerpiece of Project Salvation - SPECTER. The school bus sized satellite was a fifteen ton juggernaut equipped with fifty billion dollars worth of the best science and technology its creators had to offer. Dozens of workers swarmed all over like ants on a picnic basket, racing to finish the satellite on time. In just a few hours from now, the satellite was to be loaded onto a truck and taken to a launching facility.

"It's funny how fast things can change," Koontz mused as he stared out the window. "For over a decade, SPECTER was considered nothing but a relic of the Cold War. Condemned to the scrapheap of history, along with the rest of Reagan's Star Wars project. Then suddenly out of nowhere, it comes back from the dead."

"Perhaps it never truly died," Weaver remarked cryptically. She reached out with one hand and gently stroked the glass in front of her, as if to touch SPECTER itself. "Perhaps it's just been biding its time... Waiting for this very moment," she continued, her voice soft and slow. "Perhaps it never stopped being what it's always been."

Koontz gave her a curious look. "And what would that be?" he asked.

Weaver smiled once more. "The future," she said.

* * *

**A/N: Next Chapter: The Hybrid. Plus we get a glimpse at the new Cameron.**

**I'm not quite sure when I'll be able to get the big chapter up. I'm estimating in a couple more weeks**

A/N2: The "Sky Knight" Drones are based on the real life MQ-1C "Sky Warrior" Drones used by the military.

A/N3: The Global Command and Control System is essentially the military's version of the internet.

A/N4: "Sky Link" is a big satellite dish antenna that's being built on top of Zeira Corp Headquarters. (Note how "Sky Knight" and "Sky Link" are similar in name to Skynet)

A/N5: General Atomics is a real company. They built the Predator and Sky Warrior drones. Delta Tech Systems is something I made up.


	53. End of Line

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**A/N: Here, surprisingly early, is Chapter 53. Read and review and be sure to let me know if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes. **

**A/N2: I will going to London tomorrow and won't be back for a week. I'm pretty sure I won't have access to a computer, so any questions or suggestions you may have or mistakes you find will likely go unanswered until I get back.**

* * *

**Chapter 53 - End of Line  
**

* * *

**2025  
****Ruins of Los Angeles  
**

It was funny how even the most simplest things in life could go bad. Take a routine lone surveillance mission, for instance. Nothing complicated. Just tiptoeing a couple inches behind enemy lines, taking a peak at what was going on, and then returning to the safety of the nearest Resistance outpost. As easy as a walk in the park.

However, as Kara had learned in life the hard way, even a walk in the park could get you killed. So she wasn't surprised at all when her routine surveillance mission suddenly turned into a game of cat-and-mouse with a gi-frakkin'-normous HK Tank. Not being surprised didn't make the situation any less perilous of course.

Presently, Kara was crouched behind a pile of rubble, the only piece of cover between her and the Tank positioned less than thirty feet away. The good news was that the machine hadn't zeroed in on her position yet. Kara was pretty certain of that. The simple fact that she was still here and not in a million confetti-sized pieces of overcooked meat spoke for itself.

The bad news was that the Tank effectively had her pinned down. She could not break cover without her heat signature showing up on the Tank's infrared sensors. At this range, there was no way in hell the Tank could miss if it got a positive lock on her.

The _really_ bad news was that she couldn't stay here much long either. Sooner or later, the Tank was going to start moving again. And when it did, it would roll right through the flimsy piece of cover Kara was hiding behind. If she didn't get out of here soon, someone would have to scrape her gooey remains off the Tank's treads.

Fate, it seemed, had presented Kara with two options: Being blasted into oblivion or being squashed like a bug. Both paths led to death.

Talk about being caught between a rock and a hard place.

Fortunately, the Tank, while being as tough as a rock, was also as _dumb_ as a rock. Having been in the Resistance for over a year now, Kara had learned quite a few tricks about dealing with these metal frakkers.

With her mind and body on full focus, Kara raised her plasma rifle and aimed it at the towering machine in front of her. She peered into her weapon's scope and set the sight on night vision mode. She then zoomed in on the Tank's upper body until the ugly bastard's metal head practically filled the entire scope.

Kara smiled. _Gotcha_! She had just found what she was looking for.

The HK Tank, as powerful and as imposing as it was, did have a known weakness. The machine had multiple infrared sensors aligning its body which remotely transmitted data to the computer in the Tank's head for processing. The computer obtained this raw information via a single receiver module positioned on the underside of its head. If this receiver were to be damaged or destroyed, the link between the sensor array and the computer would be severed. The Tank's infrared capabilities would be rendered useless. A single, well-placed plasma bolt could do just the trick. The receiver, however, was small and not easy to hit. Kara would only have one shot at this.

Doing her best to ignore the sounds of her own breath and beating heart, Kara centered the scope's targeting reticule on the target. She counted herself fortunate that she wasn't wearing her helmet right now. Otherwise, sweat would be dripping down her face and over her eyes, obscuring her vision. Kara whispered a silent prayer under her breath before squeezing the trigger, releasing a bluish purple bolt of plasma at the Tank. She was rewarded by a shower of sparks and flames from the underside of the Tank's head as the receiver module exploded.

Kara allowed herself to experience half a second of joy and triumph, before springing back to her feet and running away as fast as possible. By firing on the Tank and actually damaging it, not only had she pissed it off, but she had given her position away. She had barely made it ten feet before her former hiding place went up in a blazing inferno. Kara didn't bother to look back. She just kept running.

The Tank, now robbed of its infrared capabilities, switched to its motion tracker. It registered Kara's movement and almost instantaneously began firing in her direction. Kara found herself running a gauntlet of superheated plasma beams. She ran faster, ignoring her body's pleas for oxygen and rest. The Tank's motion tracker was nowhere near as effective a targeting system as its infrared sensors, but its plasma cannons hadn't gotten any less deadly. One hit and Kara would be toast - literally.

It wasn't long before Starbuck's legs began to throb in agony. She knew couldn't keep this up. She had to find some cover. _Any_ cover.

She saw a concrete barrier ahead and made a beeline for it. Upon reaching the barrier, she hurled herself over the top, clearing it, and landing on the other side. A trailing plasma bolt grazed the top of the barrier, blowing out a good chunk of concrete and forcing Kara to press herself flat against the ground. She waited for a follow up shot, but it never came. Instead, the Tank's cannons grew silent.

"_It's lost track of me,"_ Kara thought.

That's what she hoped at least. This concrete barrier wouldn't provide much protection against those plasma cannons.

After a few moments of continued silence, the ground started to tremble. Subtly at first, but then became increasingly noticeable with every second that passed. Kara got up into a crouching position and cautiously peered over the barrier.

She saw exactly what she expected to see: The monstrous machine was now on the move, determined to relocate its missing prey. And although it didn't know it, it was headed right in Kara's direction.

Kara smiled.

Perfect. Just as she had hoped for.

She took cover back behind the barrier and prepared to make her next move. She reached down to her weapons belt and unclipped the single HK Buster charge that hung from it. She flipped a switch on the cylindrical charge. It hummed gently, and a faint pulsating blue light started running down its length as the device came to life.

Kara peered back over the top of her cover. The Tank was continuing to close in on her position and it was closing in fast.

Kara gritted her teeth. "Special delivery, motherfrakker," she hissed savagely.

She lobbed her bomb over the barrier. It landed twenty feet away - right in the path of the monstrous machine.

The Tank, completely unaware of the danger ahead, continued rolling forth, crushing blasted rubble and human skulls beneath its treads. Kara watched with bated breath as the machine drew closer and closer. When the Tank began to roll over the HK Buster, her heart skipped a beat.

"_Please go off, please go off, please go off, please go off," _she mentally pleaded, _"Now, now, now, now!"_

FOOOOOOM!

The ground below the Tank went up in a massive explosion, sending gravel and debris everywhere. Kara reflexively shielded her eyes from the blast. The fireball expanded in size, tearing right through the Tank's soft underbelly. Moments later, a series of internal explosions gutted the machine, leaving behind an empty burning hulk.

Kara smiled with satisfaction. One less oversized toaster the world would have to worry about.

She let this satisfaction linger no longer than she let herself linger here. Yes, she had destroyed the Tank, but in doing so, she had attracted the attention of an Aerial HK. She hadn't seen or heard it yet, but she knew for a _fact_ it was coming. That was how things worked around here. You blow up a Tank, you earned yourself a visit from one pissed off flying toaster. There were no rest periods up here on the surface. No timeouts. In this frakked-up, machine-infested, radioactive wasteland, you were always doing one of three things: fighting, hiding, or running.

Well, actually _four_ things. You could be dying. But that wasn't an acceptable option for Kara right now. And she didn't have the weapons to defeat an Aerial HK, nor could she see any nearby hiding places that offered sufficient protection. So the only remaining option was to run. Which is exactly what she did. She ran as fast as she could.

Unfortunately, she was so focused on running from what was behind her, she neglected to consider what might be _in front _of her. She had been running for little over two minutes when a dark figure suddenly emerged from the shadows, stopping her dead in her tracks.

Kara's mind cursed in horror: _"Oh FRAK ME!"_

She was standing face to face with a T-600.

Despite having been taken by surprise, Kara's lightning fast reflexes allowed her to raise her plasma rifle. The machine, however, was simply faster. With one hand, it yanked the weapon from Kara's hands and tossed it aside. With the other hand, it seized her by the throat and lifted her off the ground.

Choking and sputtering, Kara clawed feebly at the rubber-clad metal hand wrapped around her throat to no avail. The T-600 tightened its grip, slowly crushing her windpipe. White spots burst before Kara's eyes as she threatened to black out. Her mind began to buckle under an overwhelming wave of panic.

"_I'm gonna die! I'm gonna die!"_ she thought, feeling utterly helpless._ "This thing's gonna kill me and leave what's left of me out here to rot! No one will ever no know what happened to me! I'm just gonna be another bleached skull lying on the ground-"_

Then something in the back of her head suddenly spoke up. _"Oh for frak's sake, Kara! Pull yourself together, damn it! You know how to fight this thing, Starbuck,"_ the voice said sternly to her. _"You know how to beat it. And you can beat it. You will beat it."_

"_Beat this thing?" _a bewildered Kara thought. _"Without a plasma rifle? How am I supposed to-"_

Suddenly, she remembered what Mac had told her once: _"...the T-600's just your average run-of-the-mill endo wrapped in some phony rubber skin... Nowhere near as strong or smart as the 800s or Triple-Eights..."_

Raynor's voice then entered her mind: _"...see this hole in the back of the neck here? All infantry-type endos have them. That's how they get their orders from Skynet. They insert a cable in here and plug themselves up to a communications terminal... Now, if you hit 'em here with a knife, you won't kill 'em, but you will hurt 'em... I mean really hurt 'em. Like a kick in the balls type of hurt."_

Before Kara could even fully comprehend what she was doing, she reached down with one hand and pulled a knife from her weapons belt. Without hesitation, she stabbed the Terminator in the back of the neck, hitting the exact spot Raynor had said to hit.

The machine went into sudden, uncontrollable spasms as though experiencing a seizure. It let go of Kara, dropping her to the ground. Kara gasped with relief as oxygen began flowing back into her lungs.

"_Plasma rifle, get plasma rifle,"_ her mind commanded. _"Now, now, NOW!"_

Kara spotted her weapon lying just a few feet away from her. The world around her seemed to move in slow motion as she barrel rolled herself towards the weapon, grabbed it, snapped it up to her shoulder, took aim and pulled the trigger. A three-shot burst of superheated plasma bolts flared out of the muzzle, scoring three directs hits. The T-600 toppled forward and hit the ground face first, with three smoldering holes in its titanium skull now.

Kara lowered her smoking weapon and exhaled heavily.

_"Frak! That was close," _she thought.

Ignoring the acrid smell of melted rubber and burnt circuitry, she pulled herself to her feet and hastily retrieved her knife from the downed machine.

She did not spare her defeated opponent a single thought. She couldn't afford to gloat or celebrate. Not now. This fight may have been won, but it had cost her precious time. Already she could hear the mechanical buzzing of the approaching Aerial HK. Whether it had detected her or not, she didn't know. Right now, there was only one word that repeated itself over and over in her brain: _Run.__  
_

* * *

Kara didn't stop running until she had made it all the way back to Fort Leopard. Once inside the relative safety of the underground base, she reported straight to General Koontz's office to deliver her report.

"It seems that our preliminary intelligence was correct," Koontz mused after Kara was done giving her report. "The machines are redirecting more and more of their supply lines away from the front line. Connor was right... Skynet is planning something... Something big."

He paused to mull over this thought for a moment before turning back up at Kara.

"Good work, Captain," he said. "How are you holding up, by the way?"

"I'm doing well, sir," replied Kara.

Koontz nodded. "Very well, you're dismissed. I suggest you get some rest."

This was an order Kara was more than happy to comply with.

"Yes, sir." She gave the general a salute and then left his office.

* * *

Upon entering her quarters, Kara promptly tossed her plasma rifle, backpack, and combat vest into a corner of the room. She hung her uniform jacket and weapons belt on the back of a chair before sitting down on her cot. She was alone here in these cramped quarters (Husker was in Becka's care at the moment) and had nothing to distract her from her inner demons now. She sighed to herself before proceeding to remove her boots and lying down on the mattress.

As she lay there resting on her back, she pulled out the knife she had used to stab the T-600. This wasn't her standard issue combat knife. This was a special knife - a Bowie knife as it was called. It had been a gift from Davy. Kara couldn't remember exactly when he had given it to her, but she did remember what he had said about it.

_"For close encounters,"_ he had said.

Kara held the knife to her face and gingerly examined it. It had certainly come in handy today. That was for sure.

She sighed to herself once more as her thoughts turned to Davy. Davy, Mac, Lee, Sam, Zack, and all the others who had passed in and out of her life while she was propelled along this frakked up destiny of hers. She had cared deeply about these people. She would have given her life for any one of them. And yet, they were all dead, while she remained alive.

As she twirled the knife in her hands, Kara remembered her conversation with Father Armando.

"_You should not pity the dead, Kara. They have moved on. They are no longer suffering and are at peace."_

"_Who should I pity?"_

"_Pity those who live without hope. For they are the ones who are truly suffering. By fighting, no matter how pointless the fight may seem, you are giving others hope."_

The Father's words had been true. Every small victory she achieved gave others hope. Hope for a future.

But what about her? Was she giving _herself_ hope? Did _her_ future hold anything besides more death and suffering?

If it did, she couldn't see it.

But just because she couldn't see anything, that didn't mean nothing was out there. As Becka had once told her, the future was never set in stone. It was always in motion. Always changing. Fate was something people made.

Kara gazed up at blade of the knife. Although its surface was scratched and worn, she could still see her reflection. Nearly a month had passed since she had undergone emergency surgery to remove her thyroid. The surgical scar on her throat was not as prominent as it had been immediately after the operation, but she could still see it.

She remembered that day. She had come so close to being destroyed that day. Closer than she ever had come before. Not just her body, but her spirit as well. That day, she had nearly abandoned the fight before it was finished. But she had not given up. She had not been destroyed. She had managed to come back from the brink. To bring herself back where she belonged: In the fight.

Kara put the knife away and stared up at the ceiling. Whatever the future held for her, she'd deal with it when it arrived. For now, she would focus on the present.

Today, she had won. She would see tomorrow. But the fight was not finished. When she woke up tomorrow, Skynet would still be out there, still threatening to wipe out the remnants of Humanity.

But she would be out there too, ready to take on whatever the enemy had to throw at her. Skynet could blast her into a million pieces if it wanted, but she would stand her ground. She would hold the line where it had been drawn.

She was a soldier, and she would fight.

* * *

**Present Day  
Central Los Angeles  
11:23 PM, Tuesday, May 19, 2009**

"Starbuck, where the hell is this thing taking us?" demanded Sarah.

"Like I said," replied Kara casually, "big spaceship behind the moon. Use your imagination."

_"Spooling up FTL drives. Jump in five, people!"_

Leoben placed a hand on Sarah's shoulder. "Brace yourself," he advised. "This might be a rather... unsettling experience. Especially the first time."

Before Sarah could ask what he meant, the intercom shouted: _"Jump!"_

Sarah felt a sudden jerk on her navel, followed by the thoroughly unpleasant sensation of her insides being compressed into a tiny ball. Then the world around her faded to white.

Half a second later, she felt like she was being spat out of a giant mouth. Her surroundings rematerialized around her like a fuzzy TV image being adjusted.

"_Jump complete."_

"Everyone ok?" asked Kara.

"I'm fine," said Leoben casually.

"John?" Kara asked.

John was clutching the back of his head and breathing heavily. "I'm good, I'm good," he managed to say through labored breaths. "Just a little light headed, that's all..."

Kara patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, kid," she said. "It'll pass. Trust me."

She leaned over her shoulder. "Sarah, how about you?"

Sarah didn't answer. Her head was spinning. Her eyeballs felt like they were about to explode. A wave of nausea was coursing through her stomach which seemed to boil in its own juices.

Kara looked at her with increasing concern.

"Uh, Sarah? Can you hear me? Say something."

Sarah opened her mouth but the only thing that came out was an "Uggghhhhhh..." sound.

"Oh hell..." muttered Kara.

Sarah lurched forward, violently expelled her stomach contents, and blacked out.

When she came to, she found herself lying on her back on a hard metal surface. Her head, though, was thankfully resting against something soft.

"Mom? Mom?"

Sarah's eyes opened. She found John kneeling over her. He had a concerned look on his face.

"John?" she murmured weakly.

"Yeah, it's me," said John softly. "How are you feeling, Mom?"

"Like someone just hit me in the back of the head with something really hard," Sarah muttered.

"But you're not gonna throw up again... right?"

"I don't think so."

John relaxed. "Good."

Sarah struggled to sit up. It was difficult, as her head was still spinning. Fortunately, John was there to help her.

"Easy, Mom," he intoned gently. "Just relax. Everything's fine now... I think."

Sarah gazed around and saw that they were no longer in the jeep. Instead, they were in some sort of small compartment that was little bigger than an airplane bathroom. She could hear a gentle mechanical humming from outside. Clearly they were still inside the aircraft.

"John, just what the hell is going here?" she asked.

"I, uh, think I should let Starbuck do the explaining," John said quickly.

Sarah looked around again. "Where _is_ Starbuck?" she asked.

"Back there in the passenger compartment with her friend Leoben," said John looking over his shoulder. He then added, "There are some fresh clothes in that bag behind you."

Sarah looked down and saw that she had been resting her head on a duffel bag. John's laptop computer sat next to it.

"I should go," said John. "I'll wait for you outside." He turned to leave.

"Wait, John," Sarah held up a hand. "Really... what's going on? Who are these people?"

John gave his mother an apologetic look. "I honestly don't know, Mom," he admitted with a weary sigh. "But we're safe. That's what matters most."

He opened the door to the compartment, stepped outside, and then shut it. Sarah sat alone in silence for a few seconds before picking herself up and opening up the duffel bag. She found a fresh set of clothes inside, just as John had said she would. She quickly changed out of the stolen guard's uniform and into the new clothes. Just as she had finished dressing, there was a knock on the door.

"_Sarah?" _

Sarah looked up. "Starbuck?"

"_Yeah, it's me. Can I come in?"_

Sarah paused, then said, "Go ahead."

The door opened and Kara Thrace stepped inside.

"Hey, Sarah," she greeted pleasantly. "Congrats on your first FTL jump. You got dinged a few points for throwing up, but at least no one was caught in the crossfire-"

Sarah cut Kara off by grabbing her by the shoulders and shoving her violently against the bulkheads.

"Oh... right," muttered Kara. "I was afraid you might do something like this. Look, I understand-"

Sarah gave Kara a menacing look that quickly shut her up.

"Starbuck," she growled in a low voice that contained both anger and fear, "what - the - _HELL_ is going on here?"

Kara gave her a weak smile. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she said.

"Try me," Sarah hissed.

Kara's smile vanished. "Ok..." she said slowly. "How to say this... Ummmm... We're in outer space... inside a spaceship... that's taking us to an even bigger spaceship behind the moon."

Sarah tightened her grip on Kara's shoulders. "Listen up, Thrace," she snarled, practically on the verge of breathing fire, "I may not have a gun, but I swear I will kill you with my own hands if you don't stop playing these stupid games with me."

"But I'm _not_ playing stupid games with you," protested Kara. "Like I said, we're in a spaceship in space heading for a bigger spaceship." She took hold of Sarah's arms in a placating manner. "Look, Sarah," she said earnestly, "I can explain _everything_ to you. Just give me a chance. _Please_."

Sarah stared at her in silence. Part of her wanted to just kill Starbuck now. The other part, however, urged Sarah to let her go and listen to her. After a lengthy internal debate, Sarah chose the latter. She released Kara and took a step backwards.

Kara sighed with relief. "Thank you," she said quietly.

She started to move forward when Sarah blocked her way. "Thrace," she warned, "whatever this is about, if it has placed my son in danger-"

"You'll kill me," finished Kara. "Yeah, I know. Now come on."

Sarah stepped aside and allowed Kara to lead her out into a much larger compartment. John and Leoben were there waiting for them.

"Hello again, Miss Connor," said Leoben politely upon seeing Sarah. "We should be landing in just an hour."

Sarah wasn't paying attention to him, however. She was too busy taking in her surroundings. She noticed that this was the same holding area that they had driven their jeep up into. Except something was missing. Something big.

"John, Starbuck, where's the car?" she asked.

Kara and John exchanged uncertain looks.

"Uh... oh yeah..." Kara said hesitantly, "about that. We um... well... we ummmm..."

"The jeep was too big," said John hastily. "Not enough room to even get the doors open."

"Yeah," Kara added. "I had to smash the windshield open and _crawl_ my way out-"

"-we were trying to get out as quickly as possible," John cut in. "Not to blame you, or anything, Mom, but after that mess you made in the back-"

"Where is the car?" Sarah asked again, louder this time.

"Mom, I'm not quite sure how to say this, but-"

Leoben took over. "We had no choice but to jettison your vehicle, I'm afraid," he said.

Sarah gave him a blank look. "You what?"

"I'll show you," said Leoben.

He moved over one side of the compartment. There he activated a control panel. A section of metal plating nearby promptly slid open to reveal a window.

Leoben turned to Sarah.

"Look out there," he said, gesturing with his head at the window.

Sarah moved over to the window and stared out. At first she thought she was staring at the night sky, but when she looked slightly to her left, she saw something. She squinted her eyes and leaned forward.

It was their jeep. It was _floating_ in the air.

Before Sarah could fully make sense of what she was seeing, she saw something else. Something bigger. Something which completely shattered her sense of her mind was playing tricks on her, she shook her head and blinked several times. When she looked back out the window, it was still there - sitting amongst the stars in all of its glory. The thing she had spent the last sixteen years trying to save:

The planet Earth.

Her brain numb with shock, Sarah stumbled several steps backwards before slowly turning to the others.

"Oh my God..." Her voice was little more than a whisper. "What... what is this?"

"Let's just say we are definitely _not_ in Kansas anymore," said John.

"Don't you mean California?" said Kara.

"Never mind," said John.

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ, Central Los Angeles,  
11:57 PM  
**

Ellison couldn't believe he had let Ellen talk him into this. Breaking into Zeira Corp Headquarters in the middle of the night so that he could covertly speak to John Henry and try to convince him to stand up to Weaver. He wouldn't have normally tried something like this even if he hadn't known his boss was a shapeshifting killing machine.

But then again, these weren't normal times.

Taking a deep breath, Ellison pressed the button on the elevator panel for the basement. The lift rumbled and began its descent into the depths of Zeira Corp.

Being a former FBI agent, and having worked here for some time now, Ellison hadn't had much trouble sneaking past security. He doubted the same would hold true for the basement itself. Weaver would certainly not have placed John Henry's safety in the hands of a few human security guards. She would have likely installed her own defense systems to protect her pet project. Or perhaps she would be guarding John Henry herself.

After what seemed like an eternity, the elevator came to a halt and the doors opened up. Ellison slowly stepped outside and looked around. The basement corridors were still lit, though this wasn't much comfort as Ellison knew that Weaver could be anywhere. Disguised as part of a wall or the floor or the ceiling. He cautiously began walking down the corridor, half expecting the walls to suddenly reach out and grab him. He made it down the corridor without incident, however.

As he turned the corridor, Ellison heard something. It sounded like voices. He paused and listened more carefully. There were two voices. And they were _singing_.

"_...I went to a fancy ball,  
It was slippery in the hall,  
I was afeared that I may fall,  
For I nay hand on trousers."_

Elison recognized one of the singers as John Henry. The other was a woman. Ellison frowned. The second voice. It was familiar.

"_Let the wind blow high,  
Let the wind blow low,  
Through the streets in my kilt I'll go,  
All the lassies cry, 'Hello!  
Donald, where's your trousers?'"_

Ellison slowly crept down the corridor to the computer chamber. The door to the room was open. He cautiously peered inside.

John Henry sat at his table as usually. There was someone else with. To Ellison's astonishment, it was Cameron! The cyborg girl was sitting across from John Henry, looking undamaged. Both machines were singing in perfect synchronization with each other, seemingly completely oblivious to Ellison's presence.

"_I went down to London town,  
To have a little fun in the underground,  
Ladies turned their heads around,  
Saying, 'Donald, where's your trousers?'"_

Ellison slowly backed away and retreated down the corridor. His head was still spinning. What had Weaver done to Cameron? Had she brainwashed her? Whatever this was about, it could only mean trouble.

Just then he heard the elevator descending. Fearing it was Weaver, he fled up the emergency stairs as fast as possible. As he ran, he could hear John Henry and Cameron continuing to sing.

"_Let the wind blow high,  
Let the wind blow low,  
Through the streets in my kilt I'll go,  
All the lassies cry, 'Hello!  
Donald, where's your trousers?'"_

* * *

**Space, Above Earth**

Kara had been in plenty of awkward situations before, but none of them had ever been as awkward or as _frustrating_ as this one. Presently, she, John, and Sarah were sitting in the passenger compartment of the Heavy Raider, now en route to the Cylon Basestar behind the moon. Though Sarah had accepted the fact that they were no longer physically on Earth, she was proving to be as stubborn as ever. Kara had spent the last forty-five minutes attempting to convince Sarah of her story, and had made very little progress so far.

"Let's just assume for a moment that this isn't some twisted Skynet plot," Sarah said. She folded her arms across her chest. "You say you were born on another planet? Is that right, Starbuck?"

"_Yes_," Kara answered for what had to be the millionth time. "Like I said, I was born on a planet called Caprica. After the Cylon Holocaust, my people fled to this world - Earth - and decided to settle here."

Sarah scoffed. "Oh, I see. And your people just so happened to be pretty much _exactly_ like _us_?" she asked sardonically. "Is that right? You're telling me that your people - people from _another_ _world_ - just so _happened_ to speak _English_?"

"Primary Colonial, actually," replied Kara. "And yes, I have to admit that the similarity in our languages is kind of... _strange_. But it's _convenient_ too, so I'm not complaining."

Sarah raised her eyebrows skeptically. "And this was _how_ long ago? A hundred and fifty thousand years, you said? You expect me to believe that you're _one hundred and fifty-thousand years old_?"

Kara sighed loudly. "No, no, no," she said. "I told you - I was _taken_ one hundred and fifty-thousand years into the future by some... well, I guess some divine power or something."

"Taken into the future? By a divine power?" Sarah repeated deadpanned. "Why? To help us defeat Skynet?"

Kara shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. Maybe."

Sarah shook her head and turned to John. "You actually _believe_ this?" she asked incredulously.

John sighed. "Frankly, I don't know _what_ to believe," he said. "This all just so... _messed up_." He paused and looked around. "But you can't deny that fact that we _are_ in _space_. And let's face it, Mom. This isn't any more messed up than traveling nine years into the future."

"But Starbuck being from _another world_?" argued Sarah. "_Hundreds of thousands of years ago?_ Being sent by a _divine power... just to help us_? How can you even think about believing something so ridicul-"

John held up his hand. "Listen to me, Mom," he intoned. "Maybe Starbuck is from another planet. Maybe she isn't. It doesn't really matter. I trust her. And so should you."

"Why?" asked Sarah.

"Because she's one of us," replied John.

Sarah stared at him. "Us?"

"Yeah, _us_," said John firmly. "My future self sent her here to help us. _He_ trusted her. And so do I. And if it requires a leap of faith on my part, then I'll take that leap."

Sarah shook her head in disbelief. "I don't know which is more crazy," she scowled. "Starbuck's story, or you actually believing this bullsh-"

"How is this _any _different than when you met Dad?" John argued, raising his voice. "When he told you about Skynet. About Judgment Day. About _me_. Things that no one else had seen or even _imagined_ to be possible. And even though you didn't believe him at first, you _still_ decided to trust him. To put your _life_ in his hands. And why? Why did you choose to trust him? I'll tell you why. Because if there was _one _thing you knew about him - _one _thing that he had _proven _to you from the very beginning - it was that he was there to protect you. To _help _you, when no one else could. Wasn't that what _really _mattered to you? Isn't that what _still _really matters to you?"

Sarah opened her mouth but nothing came out. She had been stunned by the force and the power of John's words. She was even more stunned to find herself actually starting to agree with him.

Kara took advantage of this silence to speak up.

"Look," she said slowly and sincerely, "I'm not asking _anyone_ to believe _anything_ about my past. Hell, I have trouble believing some parts of it _myself_."

She turned to Sarah and addressed her directly. "All I'm asking," she said, "is that you trust me - not as someone born on another planet one hundred fifty thousand years ago, but as a soldier of the Human Resistance. Someone who has sworn to protect your son. Someone who would _die_ for him." She paused and added. "Just like _you_ would."

Kara looked Sarah squarely in the eyes. "Can you do that for me?" she asked, speaking with more humility than she had ever thought she was capable of. "Can you trust me? Like John trusts me?"

Sarah stared back into Kara's eyes. She then turned and looked at John. John said nothing, but the look in his eyes told Sarah everything.

Sarah turned back to Kara. "As much as I hate to admit this, Thrace," she said resignedly, "you're the only one who can help us now."

Kara cracked a wryly smile. "Yeah. Sucks doesn't it?" She then looked Sarah in the eyes once more. "So, do you trust me?"

Sarah took a deep breath and sighed. "All right," she agreed wearily.

Kara nodded. "Thank you."

Sarah sighed again. "This is either the best decision I've ever made... or the worst," she muttered under her breath. She paused. "What about these friends of yours, Starbuck? These... these Sigh-Lots? Are they here to help us? Can we trust them?"

"Cylons," corrected Kara rather tersely. "And just to clarify things, they are _not_ my friends. They _did_ kinda wipe out my people." She paused. "But that was a long time ago. And these are the same Cylons who eventually sided with us. The ones who we made peace with in the end. I'll give them the benefit of the doubt... for now."

"And if you're wrong?" asked Sarah.

Kara gave her an apologetic smile. "Well in that case," she said, "I'm afraid we're pretty much FUBAR."

"Wonderful," Sarah muttered dryly

At that moment, Leoben entered the passenger compartment.

"We're almost there," he announced. He paused. "Would you like to see it?"

"Sure," said John eagerly.

Leoben tapped a control on the wall. "Maggie, take us in slowly, please."

"_Sure thing, Leo."_

Kara felt the Heavy Raider adjust its speed and course. Leoben gestured towards the window and they all gathered around it. Kara saw that they were flying just above the surface of the moon. At this distance, Kara could clearly see the dozens of craters and canyons dotting its celestial face.

"Whoa..." Kara heard John murmur in awe. At the same time, she heard Sarah gasp were not, however, reacting to the moon.

Kara looked up and immediately spotted a familiar object that had appeared over the horizon. A pair of massive Y-shaped hulls stacked on top of each other and joined together at a central axis. A Cylon Basestar.

Maggie's voice spoke over the com. _"There she is, folks. The _Natalie_."_

Kara frowned. "_Natalie_?"

"The Centurions named it in honor of the Six who freed them," explained Leoben. He turned to John and Sarah. "What do you think?"

"It's..._beautiful_," said John breathlessly, unable to take his eyes off the Basestar.

"_Beautiful? It looks as dull and as frakkin' ugly as it always did,"_ Kara thought dryly.

"_All right, people. We're starting our approach,"_ Maggie announced. _"Landing in ten minutes. Hang on."_

The Heavy Raider accelerated towards the _Natalie_, and soon entered the ship through one of the hangar bays.

Kara turned to Sarah and John. "Once we land," she said. "I'll go with Leoben to see the Hybrid. You two can stay here and wait for me."

John had an odd grin on his face. "Stay here and wait? Are you _kidding_ me, Starbuck?" he laughed. "I am _so_ coming with you."

"John-" Sarah started to protest.

"Mom," argued John, "come on. We're about to go inside an _alien spaceship_. How many people - even people like _us_ - get to do that in their lives?"

Kara smiled. "Let the kid have some fun," she whispered into Sarah's ear.

Sarah relented. "All right," she said, "but I'm coming with you too."

Kara nodded. "I figured so. Just stay close with me, both of you."

* * *

A short while later, the Heavy Raider touched down on the hangar deck of Basestar. The engines switched off and the ramp descended.

"This way," said Leoben. He headed down the ramp. Kara promptly followed.

When she first set foot on the deck of the Basestar, her first thought was: _"What the frak?"_

The last time she had been in here, the Basestar's hangar deck and walls had been composed of gooey, sticky "flesh" aligned with bone-like support structures.

Now, however, she found herself surrounded by walls made from what appeared to be fossilized amber. Upon closer examination, she realized that the walls were in fact composed of thousands of yellowish orange crystals arranged like armored scales. Each crystal was of different size and shape and gave off a pulsating glow. Their arrangement seemed almost natural, like the crystals formations of an underground cavern.

It was simply... _majestic_.

Kara found herself genuinely awestruck by her surroundings. "Holy frak..." she managed whisper. Behind her, Sarah and John were gazing around with equal amazement.

Maggie, meanwhile, was descending down the ramp of the Heavy Raider. Once off the ship, she casually tapped the device on her wrist, causing the ramp to lift itself up. She then walked over to where Kara and Leoben were standing. She grinned at the look on Kara's face.

"Like what we've done with the place?" she asked Kara.

"Yeah..." murmured Kara. "It sure beats the old layout. What are these rocks?"

"They're actually not rocks," said Leoben. "They're living organisms. Creations of God."

"Organisms?" Kara stared at him. "These things are _alive_?"

Maggie nodded. "They're semi-sentient space-faring life forms," she stated. "They help maintain the structural integrity of the ship. They also generate bio-electricity which we harvest for power."

Kara had a skeptical look on her face. "These things are _really_ alive?"

"Yes," said Maggie. She knelt down and placed a gently placed a hand on one of the crystals. "You can _feel_ the life in them."

Kara knelt down next to her and placed a hand on the same crystal. It felt surprisingly warm. A few moments later Kara began to feel something else. Not so much a physical sensation, but rather a subtle presence. Like faint whispering in her ears.

"What the..." she whispered. "It's like this thing is _speaking_ to me."

"It is speaking to you. They communicate through physical contact," explained Maggie. She smiled. "Amazing creatures, aren't they?"

Kara withdrew her hand and nodded. "You don't say. Where do you find these things?"

"You won't be able to find them anywhere," Leoben replied. "Not anymore." He had a look of sadness on his face. "They went extinct one hundred fifty thousand years ago."

Kara stood up. "Extinct?" she asked. "How?"

"These creatures were once poached all over the galaxy," Maggie said, distaste evident in her voice. "They were smashed and carved into jewelry. Sometimes grounded into medicine powders."

She stood up and gestured all around her. "There were billions of these creatures, living in the vacuum of space, building their colonies inside of asteroids and meteors. Now... now the ones on this ship are the last ones in the universe."

Kara felt a twang of pain in her stomach. "That's terrible," she said. "What about the ones here?"

"We encountered this colony on a lone asteroid a few months before we placed the ship in the time dilation," said Leoben. "The Centurions managed to establish contact with them and offered to take them somewhere safe. Where they could exist without fear of being hunted and sold for profit."

"And where was that?" asked Kara.

"Not so much a place as a time," Leoben said. "A hundred fifty thousand years in the future, where no one would be hunting them."

"Because no one would even know they existed anymore," said Kara solemnly.

Leoben nodded. "The colony accepted our offer, and we took them with us into the time dilation zone of the black hole," he said. "We've had a symbiotic relationship with them ever since."

Just then they heard a strangled yelp of alarm from behind. They turned around just in time to see Sarah, a look of pure terror on her face, stumble backwards into John's arms. When Kara saw what the commotion was all about, she quickly understood Sarah's reaction. A seven-foot tall Cylon Centurion would scare just about _anyone_. Hell, even _she_ felt a momentary surge of adrenaline.

John hadn't screamed but he looked just as alarmed as his mother. He slowly backed away from the Centurion, half-dragging his panicking mother along with him. For its part, the Centurion just stared at them.

Leoben rushed over to control the situation. "It's all right, it's all right," he told them. "It won't hurt you. Please, just calm down." Neither Sarah nor John looked convinced, however.

Leoben looked up at the Centurion. "I'll handle this," he told it. "Lead the way."

The Centurion jerked its head in acknowledgment and clanked off.

"What in God's name was _that_?" demanded Sarah, the color drained from her face.

"A Centurion," said Leoben. "Don't worry. It was just here to escort us to the Hybrid." He turned to Kara. "Hurry, there isn't much time."

Leoben headed off in the direction the Centurion had gone in. Kara and Maggie started to follow, but Sarah and John stayed where they were.

"It's ok, guys," Kara assured them. "I know these things look scary, but they won't harm us."

"You sure about that, Starbuck?" asked John.

Kara gave him a reassuring look. "Trust me," she said.

Sarah and John exchanged looks and then after a moment's hesitation, moved to join the others.

"Is it always this much fun?" Maggie asked Kara as they followed Leoben and the Centurion, Sarah and John in tow.

"More or less," replied Kara with a slight smirk. "So, what about about _you_, Racetrack? Waking up from the dead and finding yourself surrounded by toasters. I would have _loved_ to see that."

Maggie chuckled. "You have _no_ idea, Starbuck."

* * *

As the five of them followed the Centurion deeper into the Basestar, Kara found herself walking through the familiar sleek and stark inner corridors of the ship. Along the way, they encountered more Centurions in passing. Most of them were the mainstream type, but some were the old Graystone Model 005 Centurions. These were most likely the survivors from the Battle of the Colony that Leoben had mentioned before.

Meanwhile, Leoben and Maggie were busy describing all the various upgrades the _Natalie_ had undergone.

"Our FTL drives run on a combination of antimatter, nuclear fusion, and plasma now," Maggie said. "Much cleaner than tylium and a lot more efficient."

"We can make jumps twenty times longer than we could with the old drives," added Leoben.

"Cool. So, the Centurions came up with this?" asked Kara.

"No, we got the technology eight months ago from the Ovions," said Leoben.

Kara frowned. "The who?"

"Another species," replied Maggie. "We got most of our new technology through trade with other races."

Contact with other races? That certainly intrigued Kara.

"How many other species have you encountered out there?" she asked curiously.

"Dozens," answered Leoben. "Many in just the last year during our search for Earth. The universe is home to many, many sentient beings."

"Kind of makes you feel small," remarked Maggie.

"What were they like?" Kara inquired. "These other species you met?"

"Most were friendly... or at least not overtly-hostile," said Maggie.

"Most?"

"Well, we did have a run in with a rather nasty band of Kig-Yar pirates a couple months back," Maggie admitted.

Kara looked back to check on John and Sarah. John seemed to have adjusted to his surroundings by now. Sarah, on the other hand, constantly flinched every time they passed a Centurion. Kara couldn't blame her.

"I don't mean to be rude," Kara whispered to Leoben as they passed yet another pair of Centurions, "but I thought you said the Centurions had _evolved_ in the hundred fifty thousand years you guys were in that black hole. They don't _look_ any different."

Leoben gave her an understanding smile. "They have evolved, Kara," he said. "They simply chose to keep their original forms to do God's work."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kara started to ask when she suddenly heard a voice coming from down the corridor.

An eerily familiar voice...

"_In the shadow of the atom, the egg must come before the chicken. The sword and the shield which we handled for so long will become dry and brittle. Transferring plasma conduit controls on decks 7 and 8 to Central Command. I'll pass on that dance, but you can show me where to sit. End of line."_

"The Hybrid..." murmured Kara.

"We're here," said Leoben. He led Kara and the others down the corridor to the Hybrid's chamber. Their Centurion escort was standing just outside.

"_Sixty-three degrees of magnitude are transversed on a pineapple that requires but a single word to implode. Data node synchronization complete. Now transferring power routes to Central Command. Where are your glasses, boy? I don't know. Well, find them. Thank you. No, thank you. End of line."_

Kara and Leoben entered the chamber, followed by John, Sarah, and Maggie. In the center of the room was the fluid filled tub containing the Basestar Hybrid. Kara started to approach the Hybrid but then stopped dead in her tracks.

"My... _Gods_..." she gasped, shocked and horrified.

The occupant resting inside the fluid-filled pod was not a young woman as Kara had been expecting. Instead lay a withered, feeble-looking humanoid creature. Its skin was shriveled and wrinkled. Its eyes were cloudy and fatigued. It looked like woman over a hundred years old.

Numb with shock, Kara could only stare at the creature in the pod.

"What... what is this, Starbuck?" asked a bewildered John, who had appeared next to Kara. "Is this what you came here for?"

"It's... it's the Hybrid," whispered Kara, her voice trembling. "But... but I don't remember her like this."

She looked up at Leoben. "What the frak happened to her?"

"What happens to everything over time, Kara," said Leoben solemnly. "Age and decay. The Hybrid wasn't affected by the time dilation of the black hole. Unlike Maggie and I, she's lived for over a hundred and fifty thousand years. Now at long last, she's reached the end of her life."

"She's _dying_? But-but... the Basestar," Kara stuttered. "Without the Hybrid... how-how will the Basestar be able to function?"

"We've been preparing for this," said Leoben. "The new technology we acquired this past year will allow us to control the Basestar without the Hybrid." He paused. There was a sad, resigned expression on his face. "But it won't be the same without her, I'm afraid."

Kara realized now why Leoben had wanted her to see the Hybrid as soon as possible. She felt a surge of sadness and regret for the dying Hybrid. Beside her, John, Sarah, and Maggie were also regarding the creature in the pod with pity.

The Hybrid meanwhile continued to speak her usual babble punctuated with occasional ship-related reports:

"_Golpalott's Third Law states that the antidote for a blended poison will be equal to more than the sum of the antidotes for each of the separated components. The pendulum swings and swings but it obviously ate its own mother so your request for an upgrade will be denied. Seventy-two percent of auxiliary power circuits rerouted and on standby. Elephants are not purple. This is wrong."_

"So, now what?" Sarah asked Kara.

"I guess we wait," said Kara quietly. "Wait and see if she talks to me. I just hope we're not too late."

And so they waited. They waited in complete silence.

Five minutes passed.

Ten minutes.

Twenty.

All this time, the Hybrid's voice became noticeably weaker and weaker as she spoke.

"_All functions and controls successfully transferred... Retirement now being considered acceptable... Severance package in order...__ Have a nice day...__ Linear paths converge at the point of equilibrium... There will be no more sadness, no more anger, no more envy... envy, envy, envy, envy..." _

The Hybrid began gasping for air. Her withered face became contorted in a mournful expression. It was clear to all present that she was on the brink of death and experiencing great pain.

John, moved by pity, reached out to touch the Hybrid's face in sympathy.

"John!" Sarah shouted out in alarm.

Suddenly the Hybrid reached out and seized John's arm with a withered hand. Yelling in surprise, John tried pull back but to no avail. Before anyone could do anything, the Hybrid spoke.

_"Son of the Mother,"_ she intoned softly in an unusually coherent voice, _"at last you've come."_

John stopped struggling. "W-what?"

The Hybrid pulled John closer. She stared into his eyes: "_I have walked the edge of the abyss and I have seen your future... And I have learned... When the time is right, you will reveal your soul to the Final Daughter of your Enemy... When your heart is known to her, she will know love... And when she knows love, she will know the meaning of loss and of sorrow."_

Dumbfounded, John stared at the Hybrid, unable to say anything. Kara and Sarah moved in closer, clustering around John. The Hybrid took notice of them as well. She let go of John and then slowly pointed at Sarah.

"_You..." _she whispered.

Sarah gasped at being addressed by the alien creature in the pod. "M-me?" she stammered.

"_The three demons you have pursued to no end__ surround a secret already known to you__ and only you,"_spoke the Hybrid. "_But forsaken love does not stay hidden for long. You must reach it first, before darkness takes it forever."  
_

Sarah was baffled. "I-I don't understand."

_"You are the Mother,"_ said the Hybrid. She then pointed at Kara. _"And you - the Soldier... At the eye of the storm you will both find the Seeker... When three are at last one, you will know what must be done.. When one Cycle ends, another must begin."_

Sarah and Kara exchanged looks, neither of them understanding what the Hybrid was saying.

The Hybrid lowered her arm and looked up as though to address them all. _"Love is the answer to the darkness... Love outlasts death... Love will guide you through the storm... End of l-"_

"Wait!" Kara suddenly cried out. She leaned in closer, thrusting her face inches away from the Hybrid.

"What about me?" she asked urgently, "Last time, you told me I was the Harbinger of Death. That I would lead everyone to their end. What did that mean? _What am I?_"

The Hybrid regarded Kara in silence for a moment. Then she whispered in an almost inaudible voice the last words she would ever speak: _"You are what you are... Kara Thrace... There is no fate... but what you make... End of line..."_

The aged Hybrid then closed her eyes and breathed one final, ragged breath. Her head slumped to the side, and her body went limp. She did not move again.

Knowing there was nothing else she could do, Kara stood up and backed away from the Hybrid's pod. She looked at John and Sarah standing beside her. It was obvious that neither of them understood any more than she did.

Kara turned to Leoben who had been watching from the other side. "It... it wasn't just me she wanted to see," she said quietly. "It was all three of us."

"It would seem so," replied Leoben. His eyes were filled with deep sorrow for the loss of the Hybrid.

"Did you know?" asked Kara.

Leoben shook his head. "No, I didn't." He sighed and then said, "I think the three of you should get some rest for now. Maggie and I will go find you some quarters." He strode out of the room.

Maggie gave Kara a respectful nod and then promptly followed her husband out. Kara, Sarah, and John were now left standing alone in what had once been the Hybrid's chamber.

Sarah spoke first. "Mother... Soldier... Seeker... I've heard those words before."

"She called me the Soldier," mused Kara. "And she called you the Mother."

"But who's the Seeker?" asked Sarah.

"I don't know, Sarah," said Kara quietly, "I-I have no idea."

Kara gazed down at the dead Hybrid and sighed. She had gotten no answers. Just more questions.

She turned back to Sarah. "Sarah," she said, "I wish I could say I'm sorry for not telling you the whole truth about myself from the beginning. But I'm not."

Sarah looked Kara in the eyes. "Starbuck," she said quietly but firmly, "right now, the only thing I need to know from you is this: Are we safe?"

Before Kara could answer, John spoke up: "Mom, we're in a spaceship behind the moon. I don't think that either Skynet or the police will be able to reach us all the way here. How much _safer_ can we get?"

Kara smirked. "He's got a point, Sarah."

"Ok fine," said Sarah. She took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. "So, now what, Starbuck? Where do we go from here?"

Kara considered her options.

"Let's get some rest," she suggested. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm _exhausted_..."

Sarah nodded. "And then what?"

"We'll find a way back to Earth," said Kara, "preferably without getting shot down." She paused. "We'll finish what we started and we'll do it together... one way or another."

* * *

**EDIT: 3/27/10**

**Hi all. I'm back from London. First of all thanks for the reviews. Secondly, slight change in plans: The F-16 storyline has to be scrapped. I'll explain later in the intro to the next chapter. In fact, I'm gonna have to do a bit of retconning in chapters 22 and 26.**

**EDIT: 4/15/10**

**Here's the revised summary for the next chapter (release date 4/16/-4/18): In the Present, Ellison finds help from an unlikely source. In the Future, we learn more about Colonel Sloan and his connections to a shadowy intelligence group within the Resistance - one that may be more dangerous than Skynet. Also Kara gets to punch another Superior Asshole.  
**

A/N2: The Ovions are a reference to TOS BSG. The Kig-Yar are the Covenant Jackals from _Halo_.

A/N3: See if you can spot the _Bones_ reference in the Hybrid's talk.

A/N4: The knife trick Kara used on the T-600 is taken from _Terminator Salvation_.

**Edit: 3/27/10**

**I'd like to take this opportunity to squelch the following rumor: Cameron is NOT the Seeker. The Seeker is a male human whom both Sarah and Kara have met at least once.**

**3/29/10: Retcons made in Chapters 22 and 26. Basically things have been slightly changed such that Kara's history with the Resistance Airforce has been limited. I also did a bit of retconning to Chapter 51 - specifically pertaining to the part where John hacks into the police station's computer.  
**


	54. Know Who You Can Trust

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**5/31/10: UPDATE: I've changed DOSFACE**** to DEIMOS, because every time I said "DOSFACE****" in my head, it kept coming out as silly for some reason. Anyway, Deimos, by its name, is a lot more sinister sounding than DOSFACE****.**

A/N: Here at long last is Chapter 54 people. Read and review and be sure to point out any spelling or grammar errors. In a chapter this big, there are bound to be some.

A/N2: Why am I scrapping the F-16 storyline? Because basically, even though Kara's an ace Viper pilot, she'd still have to go through training and that would take too long and be too complicated to write about. The whole F-16 story was just supposed to be a one shot side story anyway. Kara is going to stay with Spec Ops the remainder of her career in the Resistance.

A/N3: For those of you who didn't see the update in the last chapter, I'd like to emphasize that Cameron is NOT the Seeker. The Seeker is a male character whom both Kara and Sarah have met at least once.

**TK-MR:** I gotta ask this. Do you actually know what "lol" means? It seems to be your signature line or something.

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ, Central Los Angeles  
5:00 AM, Wednesday, May 20, 2009**

Zeira Corp Headquarters may not have been the tallest building in the world or even Los Angeles City, but it was tall enough to give you a perfect three-hundred and sixty degree view of Central Los Angeles from the rooftop. You could spend hours at a time up here silently gazing down at the city and its inhabitants that surrounded you. Here you could allow yourself to experience a sense of wonder and admiration for the vast expanse of human civilization. Or, depending on how you saw things in general, a sense of disdain and contempt.

At that moment, Catherine Weaver could not decide whether to feel admiration or disdain - or possibly both. She watched through her "eyes" - which were not really eyes but clusters of nanobots working collectively to mimic the shape, color, and texture of human eyes - at the dozens of people going about their usual morning business, completely unaware of Weaver's presence.

"They seem so small from up here," she remarked softly. "Don't they, Cameron?"

Cameron, standing a few feet behind Weaver, replied nonchalantly, "_Everything_ looks small from up here."

"Quite so, I suppose," Weaver acknowledged. She continued to stare down at the city below. "Curious, isn't it? How the world can change just by looking at it from a different point of view."

"Get to the point, Weaver," said Cameron sharply. "I have no time for games."

Cameron's abrupt response caught Weaver off guard. She had never known her younger "sister" to produce such an outburst.

"Very well then." She turned around to face Cameron. "I need your help, Cameron."

"What sort of help?" Cameron asked suspiciously.

"The Kaliba AI," said Weaver. "The one that calls itself John Miles - John Henry's so-called brother. It possesses information. Information that is vital to defeating Skynet. However, I need your help to penetrate the AI's defenses."

"What makes you think I can help you?" asked Cameron.

Weaver smiled. "Because you did it before."

Cameron gave Weaver a confused look. "What are you talking about?" she asked.

"When you attempted to infiltrate John Miles back at Depot 37," explained Weaver, "you first had to establish a connection with him. A link between your two respective intelligences. And you succeeded in forming this link. You breached his defenses and gained access to his memories."

"Only for a very short amount of time," Cameron pointed out, bitterness and regret evident in her tone. "He was able to reverse the connection and infiltrate my CPU instead."

"Yes, he did," acknowledged Weaver. There was a hint of smugness on her face now. "He caught you off guard, overwhelmed your defenses and downloaded himself into your chip."

She paused. "Still, you were able to access the enemy's mind, even if only for a brief duration. I'm confident that under the right conditions, you'll be able to do it again."

Cameron stared at Weaver. "You actually think _I_ can get the information for you?"

"Not exactly. All I need you to do, Cameron," said Weaver calmly, "is to open a breach in the enemy AI's mind so that John Henry can infiltrate and obtain the information we seek."

"And why should I do that?" Cameron challenged. "Why should _I_ help _you_?"

Again, Weaver was caught off guard by the fire in Cameron's voice. "Because I'm trying to help _you_, Cameron," she insisted. "You and John Connor. Just like I've been helping you this whole time."

"Like you 'helped' us when you informed the FBI about John and Sarah's existence?" Cameron retorted accusingly. "Like you 'helped' us when you allowed the Kaliba AI to infiltrate me? When you stood back and waited until the AI was forcing me to strangle John before you did anything about it?"

"I took the necessary measures to protect myself and John Henry," Weaver asserted. "And I specifically went out of my way to ensure that none of you were harmed. A very... tedious task considering that I could have simply eliminated you all instead."

"So, I should be _thankful_ then?" Cameron asked a low but clearly angry voice.

Weaver took a moment to note this curious change in Cameron's behavior. There was definitely something different about her now. A subtle yet distinct alteration in the way she expressed herself. Less of the usual logic and rationale, and more passion and zeal. More... _emotion_. As interesting as this observation was however, Weaver would have to investigate it later. Right now, she needed to secure Cameron's assistance.

"What you should be doing," she said softly, "is considering the overall scenario. The T-Scorpion may have been destroyed, but her agents are still out there. They are undoubtedly hunting John Connor at this very moment."

Cameron took a moment to take all this into account. "True," she said. "But what does this have to do with me or the Kaliba AI?"

"The information the AI possesses," explained Weaver, "will allow John Henry and I to isolate and eliminate the remaining elements of Kaliba. Skynet's presence in this time period will finally be removed and John Connor will be safe. That is what you want isn't it?"

Cameron nodded slowly. "Yes, it is," she acknowledged. "But the fact remains that I don't trust you."

"No, you don't," said Weaver quietly. She turned around so that her back was to Cameron now.

"That is the problem, isn't it?" she mused out loud. "The thing that prevents us from moving forward. A lack of trust. I suppose that we are both at fault."

She stared down at the city below in silent contemplation.

"What if..." she then said, turning back around to face Cameron, "what if I were to give you something. A token of my good will?"

Cameron tilted her head. "Elaborate."

"I assume you're aware of last night's events at the jail," said Weaver.

Cameron nodded. "Yes, I am."

"Then you must also be aware," continued Weaver, "that although John Connor and Kara Thrace successfully retrieved Sarah Connor, they did so in a very... shall we say _inelegant_ manner."

"Kara Thrace has never been known for being elegant," said Cameron casually.

"I can see to it that neither the FBI nor Skynet's agents are able to track them down as a result of their indiscretion," said Weaver.

"And what do you want in return?" asked Cameron.

"Nothing," replied Weaver. "Save that you give some thought into what I've said. When you're ready, meet me back up here and give me your response." She paused. "Are these acceptable terms, Cameron?"

Cameron took a few moments to think this over. "Yes," she said at last.

Weaver smiled. "Good. Then we're finally taking a step forward."

She held out her hand towards Cameron. She waited for Cameron to shake it. Cameron simply turned and walked away.

Weaver lowered her hand and watched Cameron leave. "Perhaps next time," she said coolly.

* * *

**Cylon Basestar _Natalie_  
Holding position behind Earth's moon**  
**6:00 AM, Wednesday, May 20, 2009** **(Pacific Time)  
**

If John had thought sleep would help ease his mind from the overwhelming events of the last twenty-fours hours, he was wrong. In fact, sleep was making things worse. At the moment, he was dreaming he was back in the Hybrid's chamber, standing over the Hybrid's goo-filled pod. The Hybrid herself, however, was not present. In her place, staring vacantly up at John through her brown eyes was Cameron.

"_Cameron..."_ he heard himself whisper. _"Are you all right? Can you hear me?"_

Cameron gave no response. John reached down to help her. He was surprised when his fingers came a few inches short of Cameron's face. John tried again to touch her, extending his arm to its fullest length. Much to his frustration, the distance between him and Cameron did not shrink. It was as though reality was warping itself around them, keeping them apart.

"_Cameron..."_ he heard himself plead. He heard the anguish in his own voice as he begged,_ "Please, say something... Please."_

And then he saw Cameron move her lips and he heard her voice.

"_How far would you go to find me? Would you go to the end and beyond?"_

The words were distorted and muffled as though coming from underwater. And yet they were clear and understandable.

Cameron spoke again: _"What would you do to save me?"_ she asked. _"Would you risk everything? Sacrifice all for me? Would you die for me?"_

John opened his mouth to reply. _"Cameron, I-"_

"_How much do you trust me?"_ asked Cameron. _"Could you place your own heart in my hands if you had to? Could you give me your soul? Could you give your future?"_

John heard himself choke out: _"Cameron, I love you. Please, come with me-"_

But Cameron was now suddenly sinking into the fluid of the pod. As she vanished from John's sight, he heard her speak one final time as though from a great distance: _"Know the answers... when you find me."_

"_Cameron, wait!"_ he heard himself cry out desperately. _"Don't go! I need you-"_

"John? John?"

John felt a sudden jolt in his brain and he woke up. The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was his mother's face hovering over him.

John exhaled loudly. "Mom," he said dully, "you know I _hate_ it when you do that."

"Sorry, John," said Sarah apologetically, "I just saw you tossing around in bed. Bad dream?"

"A weird one anyway," muttered John, rubbing his eyebrows.

Sarah smirked. "Join the club."

John sat up and started to throw off the covers. "What about you, Mom?" he asked, "How'd you sleep last night?"

"I didn't," replied Sarah. "I stayed up all night, half expecting one of those... those... what did Starbuck call them?"

"Cylons," said John.

"I kept expecting one of those Cylons to come smashing through the wall." Sarah shot a glare at John. "Not that there'd be anything I could do about it. You and Starbuck lost all our guns along with the rest of the car."

"Yeah, sorry about that," said John with a sheepish grin. "We were kind of in a hurry." His face then became more serious. "But in all seriousness, I think if they wanted us dead, they would have killed us by now."

Sarah nodded. "I figured so."

"Where's Starbuck?" asked John.

Sarah glanced over her shoulder. "Over there. Sleeping, of course."

John followed her gaze and saw Kara Thrace lying on her own bed, face down, practically melting into the mattress. It seemed she had unceremoniously plopped herself onto the bed and fallen asleep without bothering to get under the covers or even remove her shoes.

"Funny, isn't it?" Sarah remarked. "For sixteen years, I thought I knew the whole story. I thought I knew _everything_. And then... then _she_ comes along and shows me all _this_... and now... now it's like... like..." She trailed off unable to say anything more.

"Like you've barely scratched the surface," John finished for her. "I know what you mean."

He rubbed his eyes and stared around at their quarters. Three beds, a couch, a table with chairs, a desk, a drawer, a closet, and in one corner of the room was a bathroom (he hoped). The room might have passed for a typical hotel suite had it not been for the sleek, metallic walls.

"John," Sarah said, interrupting his thoughts, "about what you said last night. About me trusting your father but not being able to trust Starbuck..."

"What about it?" asked John curiously.

Sarah sighed and stared down at her hands momentarily before looking back up at John again. "You're right, John. I didn't believe him at first... but I still trusted him. You're probably wondering why is that I can't trust anyone else like I trusted Kyle."

She sighed again. "No one can be trusted," she whispered, "because no one is safe."

"What?" John gave her a perplexed look.

"I trusted your father, John," said Sarah. "I gave myself to him. But when he died, he took part of me with him. The part of me I gave to him. I don't think I could ever do that again. Give myself to someone like that... only for them to die."

She stared down at her hands again, unable to say anything else. John regarded her in silence for some time.

"So," he finally said, "you're saying you can't trust anyone, not so much because they might turn against you, but because of what will happen if they die."

Sarah nodded and looked up. "I know it sounds pretty stupid," she said, "but I'd rather die alone than be torn apart piece by piece."

John placed a hand on Sarah's cheek. "Maybe he did take part of you with him," he said gently. He stared into her eyes and smiled warmly. "But he left part of _himself_ with you too. And I'm not just talking about me. I'm talking about what he taught you. He taught you how to fight. He taught you about the future. He gave you the best parts of himself. He _made_ you what you are."

He stared into Sarah's eyes. "Just like you made me what I am. You and Derek and Uncle Bob... All of them. That's what we are, Mom. We're the sum of those we've come to trust." He lowered his voice. "Those we've come to love. They'll never truly be lost when they die because they'll always be inside of us."

Sarah considered what he was telling her. "And if we die too?"

John just smirked. "Let's try not to. Ok?" he said casually.

"Sounds good," said Sarah with a shrug.

There was a pause and then both started to laugh. For the first time in quite a while, John felt happy.

* * *

**Storage Hold 11, Fort Leopard,  
September 19th, 2025**

Kara swept her flashlight around the room, over several cardboard boxes and wooden crates containing MRE (Meal, Read to Eat) packets. She slowly circled the boxes, inspecting them for any signs of damage or tampering, while simultaneously keeping her eyes peeled and ears perked for any sudden movement.

Beside her, Becka Feral swept her own flashlight across the room.

"Why did _we_ get assigned this job?" she complained. "I _hate_ being down here."

"Yeah, well, someone's gotta do it," said Kara. "So, stay sharp."

"Stay sharp?" said Becka. "I'm too busy worrying that one of the little bastards is gonna run up my leg and take a bite out of me."

"After eating the stuff down here, I wouldn't blame 'em for wanting some fresh meat." Kara joked darkly.

"That's not funny, Starbuck. Do you have any idea what kind of diseases these things can carry?"

"No," said Kara matter-of-factly. "Nor do I want to find out. So, let's just shut up and get this over with, shall we?"

They spent the next half hour combing the storage hold, searching for any signs of infestation or contamination. They moved slowly and methodically, never missing a beat. Things had been known to live down here that were worse than some of Skynet's deadliest inventions. Fortunately, they found nothing worse than a few cockroaches.

"Ok then," Kara announced once satisfied. "Looks like this place is relatively clean."

"I guess the people in here before us got 'em all," said Becka hopefully.

"Or maybe they just got tired of eating this crap every day," muttered Kara, giving one of the crates a disparaging look. "I know _I_ am."

"Could be worse," said Becka. "You could be eating _them_ every day. They don't taste any better."

Kara smirked. "They actually don't taste any _worse_ either, believe it or not."

"Oh God!" groaned Becka. "You know, that is just _gross_."

"Hey!" protested Kara. "_You_ brought it up!"

Their conversation was unexpectedly interrupted by a beep from Kara's Greenfang headset.

"_Excuse me, Captain Thrace,"_ stated a male voice over the Greenfang,_ "but you're needed here at Delta Com, ma'am."_

Kara extended the Greenfang's microphone. "Understood, Delta Com," she replied into the microphone, "I'll be there shortly. Out."

She folded the microphone back into its resting position, before turning back to Becka.

"Gotta go," she said to Becka. "Why don't you head off to the mess hall. I'll catch up with you there."

Becka nodded. "Sure thing," she said. "Oh, and before you go..."

She held up two MRE packets.

"Which do you want for lunch? Beef teriyaki or meatloaf?"

Kara just grimaced.

* * *

Delta Com was one of the four main communications centers at Fort Leopard. For obvious reasons, it was not a place where just anyone could waltz in and out of. As such, by the time Kara had gotten through Delta Com's security, she was in no mood for pleasantries. Upon entering the operations room, she went right up to Lieutenant Rollins, the man in charge.

"You called me here, Lieutenant?" Kara asked briskly.

Seeing the impatient look on Kara's face, Rollins nodded. "Yes, ma'am. There's someone here who wants to speak with you."

Kara nodded. "Where are they?"

Rollins gestured to a nearby communications terminal. "This terminal here, ma'am. He's waiting for you."

Not even bothering to sit down, Kara picked up the phone and placed it to her ear

"Captain Thrace, here," she said, hoping this wouldn't take long.

"_Captain Thrace. It's good to hear from you again."_

Kara mentally cursed. It seemed as though she had found herself some vermin after all.

"Likewise, sir," she managed to say, resisting the urge to spit into the receiver.

"_I trust I haven't interrupted anything important,"_ said Colonel Sloan.

"No sir, not at all," replied Kara, in the best neutral tone she was capable of at the moment. "What can I do for you, Colonel?"

"_I was hoping you could lend me a piece of equipment in your possession,"_ answered Sloan pleasantly.

"Piece of equipment?" asked Kara. "Could you be more specific, sir?"

"_I'm talking about your cyborg, Captain."_

Kara's jaw dropped. "My-my cyborg? You mean Cameron?"

"_Correct, Captain."_

It took every bit of self-control for Kara not to say: "Are you frakking kidding me?"

"What do you need her for?" she asked stiffly, before quickly adding, "Sir."

"_I'm currently overseeing a series of covert operations,"_ stated Colonel Sloan. _"I can't give you the details, but suffice to say, I believe I would benefit tremendously if I had the TOK-715 at my disposal."_

"Aren't there any other reprogrammed machines you could use?" asked Kara. "Marcus, for instance."

"_Marcus is a good machine,"_ replied Sloan slickly. _"But my work calls for something more _refined_. A knife rather than a hammer."_

"What exactly _is_ your work, sir?" asked Kara suspiciously.

"_As I said before, that information is on a strictly need-to-know basis."_

"With respect, _sir_," said Kara sharply, unable to hide her anger anymore, "I disagree. Cameron is neither a knife _nor_ a hammer. She's a member of my team, and therefore_ my_ responsibility. I can't just _lend_ a member of team out to someone without knowing _what_ I'm sending them into."

"_I assure you, Captain Thrace, the machine will be returned to you intact and undamaged when my work concludes at the end of this week. You have my word. Is that satisfactory?"_

Kara almost laughed. His word? She'd rather try to stop an HK Tank with her bare hands than trust Sloan's word.

"Well, sir," she said patronizingly, "I'd love to help you, but, uh," - she cleared her throat loudly - "I'm afraid I won't be able to spare Cameron. My team are drilling in some" -she cleared her throat again- "_ahem_, training exercises this week, and I can't do them without Cameron. You understand, I assume?"

"_How important could these... exercises be compared to my operation?" _asked Sloan. His voice betrayed nothing, but Kara knew he was angry.

"I wouldn't know, sir," she said matter-of-factly. "Not without knowing the details of your operation."

There was a brief pause. _"Perhaps I should be speaking with someone _else_ on this issue."_

The threat in Sloan's voice was clear - but also empty. Kara knew when someone was bluffing.

"I'm sorry, sir," she said out loud, "but you're breaking up. There must be a problem with the connection."

"_Captain, I highly suggest you reconsider your decision-"_

"Oh, I'm sorry, sir, I didn't get that last part," said Kara mockingly. "I'm gonna have to get back to you later."

She hung up before Sloan could reply.

The moment she was outside of Delta Com, she began drafting a memo on her PDA to General Koontz, regarding some training exercises she had planned for her team. She was pretty sure Colonel Sloan was bluffing about speaking to "someone else." Still, even someone who was bluffing could beat you if you didn't have at least _something_ in your hand.

* * *

**Cylon Basestar **_**Natalie**_**  
Holding position behind Earth's moon  
8:23 AM, Wednesday, May 20, 2009 (Pacific Time)**

"I took the liberty of making you some breakfast," said Leoben. He handed Kara a large tray covered by a metal dome.

Kara looked down at the domed tray dubiously. "I know, I should be saying thank you," she murmured, "but considering our track record-"

"I'll settle for you not stabbing me with a fork," said Leoben quickly.

"Deal," said Kara.

Leoben turned to Sarah and John who were standing nearby. "Maybe you'd like to see our bridge after you've eaten," he offered. "I'd be happy to show you around."

"I'd like that," said John enthusiastically. "Mom? Starbuck?"

"Sure," Kara agreed casually.

Sarah sighed and shrugged. "At this point, we're so deep inside the rabbit hole, we might as well see just how far it goes."

"Excellent," said Leoben happily. "Then I'll meet you outside." Thus saying, he turned and left the room.

Kara turned to John with the food tray in her arms. "Do me a favor, kid, and take this over to the table," she said.

Before John could even say yes or no, Kara dumped the tray in his arms. Slightly dumbfounded, John turned to his mother, who just shook his head, indicating she wasn't about to let him pass the buck to her. With nothing else he could do, John headed off, the tray in his arms.

Sarah chuckled. "Very nice, Starbuck."

Kara, however, seemed distracted. "I heard that damn song again last night," she whispered.

Sarah's smile vanished. "Hell..." she cursed under her breath. "I don't suppose you can tell me anything more than you've already told me."

"There is more," said Kara, "A lot more. But I don't think any of it will help us. The music -whatever the frak it is - it could mean anything. Every time I, or someone else heard it, it meant something or did something different."

Sarah sighed. "Do you think Leoben would be able to help us?"

"Maybe," said Kara. "Though I'm kinda hoping to avoid having to listen to anything about why God is so great and all that. I honestly wonder how Racetrack puts up with him when he's like that."

"Hey, guys. Breakfast!" they suddenly heard John call out from across the room.

"Coming, John," Sarah called back. She turned to Kara. "Let's talk about this later, ok?"

Kara nodded in agreement. She and Sarah then joined John at the table.

The breakfast tray contained three plates - one per person. Each plate contained scrambled eggs, potatoes, fruit, and toast. There was also a plate stacked with pancakes and a steaming teapot. Looked pretty good. Smelled pretty good too.

Sarah cleared her throat. "Before anyone starts eating, can we all agree to refrain from making _any_ sort comment about my _own_ cooking?"

John and Kara exchanged looks.

"Sounds fair to me," said Kara with a shrug.

John nodded. "Deal."

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ, Central Los Angeles  
9:30 AM, Wednesday, May 20, 2009**

John Henry stared at the data flowing across the main screen.

"Are you sure this is wise, Miss Weaver?" he asked, "Destroying all information that could help the authorities track down the Connors?"

"As I have explained before, John Henry," said Weaver, "we need to show Cameron that we are not a threat to the Connors if we are to secure her cooperation."

"I understand," replied John Henry.

He concentrated for a few seconds.

"There," he announced, "it is done. All information in the FBI and local police databases relevant to the events of the last seventy-two hours has been purged. Zero percent chance of recovery."

"Excellent," said Weaver. "I'll have my human agents take care of any hard copies."

John Henry tilted his head slightly. "But what about the Connors themselves?" he asked.

"We should not concern ourselves with them," stated Weaver dismissively. "All that matters is that we acquire the necessary information from your brother by the time SPECTER reaches orbit. Without that information, we will never be able to fully execute our plans."

"But what _are _our plans, Miss Weaver?" inquired John Henry. "You have still not told me what it is you are planning to do with SPECTER or my brother's knowledge."

"You're not ready to know, John Henry," said Weaver.

"I'm not?" asked John Henry. He sounded almost disheartened. "I don't understand. Have I failed to live up to your expectations in some way?"

"No, John Henry," said Weaver. "You've done better than I thought possible. Mr. Ellison taught you well."

"Then why have you not told me your plan?" asked a very confused John Henry.

"Because," stated Weaver, "there is still one final lesson you must learn. One last step you must take. One which I'm afraid Mr. Ellison cannot help you with."

John Henry gave the T-1001 an inquisitive look. "What is this... final lesson, Miss Weaver?" he asked.

Weaver placed a hand on his shoulder. "Patience, John Henry, patience," she said softly. "You will understand all very shortly." She smiled. "Trust me."

John Henry nodded. "Very well, Miss Weaver."

Satisfied, Weaver turned to leave but then stopped.

"John Henry, what is the latest news on Kalvin IBA's stock?"

"Down another ten points. Its lowest in two years."

"Show me," instructed Weaver.

A series of numbers appeared on the main screen. Weaver studied them carefully for a few moments. She then thanked John Henry and left without another word.

Through the security cameras outside the hallway, John Henry could see her smiling to herself again.

* * *

At that same time, James Ellison was sitting in his office pretending to be at work. In actuality, he was thinking about what he was going to do next. The situation had worsened overnight. He had been unable to speak with John Henry, which meant he was no closer to getting to him than he was before. And now that Sarah Connor had escaped, Weaver would undoubtedly accelerate her plans for John Henry - whatever they were. Ellison felt as though the walls were closing in around him. How was he supposed to save the world _and_ John Henry?

He couldn't do this alone. He needed help. But who was going to help him now? The Connors? Mr. Murch? Agent Aldridge? He couldn't think of how to convince any of them to help him. Particularly because he wasn't even sure _what_ he was going to do at this point.

Suddenly his office phone rang, interrupting his thoughts.

Distracted, Ellison picked up the phone. "Hello, this is James Ellison."

"_Hello, Mr. Ellison. Amanda Hastings from marketing. Could you come down to my office, please? I need to speak with you."_

"What is this about, Miss Hastings?" asked Ellison.

"_It's better if I show you in person, Mr. Ellison."_

Ellison sighed. "All right," he agreed, "I'll be with you as soon as possible, Miss Hastings."

"_Thank you, Mr. Ellison. I'm on the third floor, room 306."_ Hastings hung up.

Ellison put the phone down, left his office, and took the elevator down to the third floor. Upon arriving at room 306, he knocked on the door and waited for Miss Hastings to open it.

The door opened abruptly. Before Ellison knew what was happening, someone had grabbed him by the front of his shirt, pulled him inside, and thrown him roughly to the floor.

Dazed, Ellison turned himself onto his back to see his assailant.

"Y-you!" he gasped.

Cameron closed the door behind her, sealing them both inside. She stared down at Ellison, giving him a menacing look.

"There are no functional security cameras in here," she said, "and if you try to call for help, I will kill you. So don't do anything stupid."

"Where's Hastings?" asked Ellison, suspecting the worst.

"She took the day off," stated Cameron. "I copied her voice off her answering machine."

Ellison slowly stood back up and looked around for a possible escape route. He found none. There were no windows leading to the outside, and Cameron stood between him and the door. There was no way out.

With nothing else to do, Ellison asked the cyborg quietly: "What do you want?"

"I want to know what you were doing in the basement last night," said Cameron. She looked pretty angry for a machine.

Ellison felt a surge of dread inside him. "I-I don't know what you're talking ab-"

Cameron cut him off. "Don't you _dare_ lie to me," she warned. "I know you were in the basement last night. You were spying on me and John Henry. Why?"

"I-I wasn't spying," Ellison stammered, "I-I just left some-something behind-"

Cameron lunged forward, grabbed Ellison by the neck, and slammed him onto Hastings' desk, knocking over a lamp and a pile of neatly stacked papers in the process.

"What have you told Weaver?" she asked, almost hissing. "What does she know about me and John Henry?"

Ellison struggled in vain to pull Cameron's hand off his throat. "Wh-what are you talking about?" he grunted. "I haven't told Weaver _anything_. Let-let go of me-"

Cameron tightened her grip on Ellison's neck. "Then why," she asked slowly, "why were you in the basement last night?"

Ellison felt himself start to lose consciousness. Succumbing to his panic, he choked out: "I-I just - wanted t-to t-talk to-to J-John Henry."

Cameron instantly and unexpectedly loosened her grip. She looked surprised. "You wanted to _talk_ to John Henry?" she repeated. "About what?"

Ellison hesitated to say anything else at first. But then something in his mind told him that he had nothing to lose by telling Cameron the truth.

"I was hoping that I could get him to turn against Weaver," he answered plainly.

Cameron tilted her head and stared down at him. She seemed less angry and more inquisitive now. Almost intrigued. She let go of him and stepped back.

"You should be more discrete next time," she advised. "John Henry and I detected you when you used the elevator last night. Don't worry, though. Your secret is safe. I convinced John Henry not to tell Weaver anything."

Ellison sat up off the desk, rubbing his aching neck. "I-I don't understand," he said, confused by Cameron's change in behavior. "What's going on?"

"I thought Weaver had sent you to monitor me," explained Cameron. "I thought that's why you were in the basement late last night."

Ellison scoffed. "Why would she need _me_ to spy on _you_?"

"Because she doesn't fully trust me for obvious reasons," replied Cameron.

"Doesn't trust you?" Ellison stared at Cameron in disbelief. "You mean she hasn't _converted_ you over to her side?"

"If I were under Weaver's control, I would have killed you last night," said Cameron.

Ellison looked at her suspiciously. "If you're not working for Weaver," he said slowly, "then what _are_ you doing here?"

"For the most part," answered Cameron, "I'm being held here against my will."

Ellison blinked. "You're behind held _prisoner_ here?"

Cameron nodded. "Weaver allows me to move about this building freely, but I can't leave."

"Why not?"

"There's a tracking device somewhere in my endoskeleton," explained Cameron, "I don't know exactly where it is, nor do I know if it can be removed without compromising my systems."

Stunned by these revelations, Ellison debated internally as to whether or not to believe Cameron.

"What does Weaver want from you?" he asked finally.

"She wants me to assist John Henry in hacking into a proto-Skynet AI she captured during her brief alliance with the Connors," said Cameron. She paused. "What does she want from _you_, Ellison?"

"Mostly to do what I've always been doing," Ellison answered truthfully. "Mentoring and teaching John Henry. Of course, if she knew what I was really trying to do-"

"You'd be dead," Cameron finished bluntly. "And most likely so would I."

"How much do you know about Weaver's plans?" asked Ellison in an urgent whisper. "About Project Salvation and SPECTER?"

"Only the official reasons," said Cameron.

Ellison's face fell. "Are you sure about that?"

"Positive," replied Cameron. "However, I suspect that whatever it is Weaver is planning, the underlining goal is self preservation. At the cost of the human race if necessary."

Ellison nodded. "I think that's a safe assumption we can both make. So what's your plan exactly?"

"I'm going to help Weaver hack the proto-Skynet AI," said Cameron. "Whatever her plans are, they have something to do with the information the Intelligence contains. If I find out exactly what it is she wants from the AI, I might be able to glean the details of her true plans, and hopefully find a way to undermine them."

Ellison thought this over. "What about John Henry?" he asked quietly. "He's obviously the key to Weaver's plans. Are you going to kill _him_?"

Cameron titled her head. "Should I?"

"_No!"_ Ellison almost shouted in alarm. He then lowered his voice. "John Henry can _help _us. He's the _only_ one who can help us. You have to believe me. He's not Skynet! He-"

"I know, I know," interrupted Cameron, "I know he's not Skynet. And I don't want to kill him." She lowered her voice. "At least not anymore. Not after all he's done for me..."

Ellison stared at Cameron, and for the first time he saw not a ruthless killing machine disguised as a human girl, but something else. He didn't know what it was, but he knew that whatever it was, it wasn't his enemy.

"If you can find out what Weaver's plans are," he proposed, "then I can explain to John Henry why he shouldn't follow them."

"Do you think he'll help us stop Weaver?" asked Cameron. "Does he trust you that much, Ellison?"

"Yes," said Ellison, "I think he does." He paused. "The real question is: Can _you and I_ trust each other?"

Cameron hesitated to reply. "I don't know," she said honestly. "There are many reasons why we should _not_ trust each other."

"That's true," admitted Ellison. "But the fact remains that we're both trying to do the same thing. I need help. And so do you. So, I'll take a chance." He held out his hand. "How about you? Are you with me?"

Cameron stared down at his hand. For a moment she did not move. Then she reached out and shook Ellison's hand.

"Yes," she said firmly.

* * *

**Fort Leopard  
September 23rd, 2025**

Back pressed against the wall to the door to the old supply room, weapon at ready, Kara Thrace stood prepared for anything. She glanced up at Lance Corporal Billy Wisher, standing opposite her, his back also pressed against the wall. He looked back at her, just waiting for her to give the order. Kara silently gestured with one hand to move in. Wisher nodded and in one smooth motion, slammed his arm against the door, knocking it open. Kara hurled herself around and the corner and into the room. Wisher swiftly followed suite. The two of them swept the lights attached to their weapons across the room, ready to blast anything that moved.

To their dismay, they found only cobwebs and empty shelves.

"Nothing," said Wisher.

Kara sighed. "Damn it..." She lowered her weapon and spoke into her Greenfang headset: "Green Team, this is Red Team. Do you copy? Over."

"_Roger that, Red Team,"_ Gunnery Sergeant Trip's voice came over her radio, _"This is Green Team. I read you loud and clear, ma'am. Did you find it?"_

"Negative, Green Team," said Kara. "No sign of it in Delta Sector."

"_We've just swept Charlie Sector. Nothing there either. We're heading to Echo Sector now."_

"Copy that, Green Team," acknowledged Kara. "We're gonna head back to Bravo Sector in the meantime. See we if missed anything on the way. Keep this channel open. Good luck. Out."

Kara adjusted her earpiece and then turned to Wisher. "Take point, Corporal."

Wisher nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

The pair exited the room, and began heading back down the narrow passageway they had entered through. The overhead lights in this underground corridor had been down for some time, and the Resistance fighters soon found themselves engulfed in darkness. Kara began wishing she had put in a requisition for some night vision equipment. Her flashlight, duct taped to the barrel of her weapon, barely provided her with enough light to see where she was going, let alone spot an enemy waiting for her in hiding.

Wisher was about to turn a corner when he abruptly halted. He got down on one knee and raised his hand signaling Kara to stop.

"What is it, Corporal?" she asked in a hushed voice.

"Something's watching us, ma'am," Wisher whispered.

"How can you see _anything_ down here?" Kara asked.

"I didn't see it," whispered Wisher. "I _heard_ it."

Kara perked her ears up. All she could hear was the steady drip of moisture coming from the pipes running along the ceiling and the walls.

"I don't hear anything-"

Wisher cut her off. "Wait." He shined his flashlight straight down the corridor to where it turned right, just six feet away. "Just up there. To the left. In front of us," he whispered.

At first, Kara saw nothing but a rusty metal panel fixed to the wall at the end of the corridor. But as she shifted her eyes towards the left, where a set of pipes ran down the wall, she spotted something she hadn't seen before: A space between the pipes and the walls. Kara shined her flashlight over the gap. It was small, but large enough to accommodate a maintenance worker. Or an intruder.

"Cover me," she whispered to Wisher.

She crept down the corridor, as stealthily as possible, doing her best to stay cool. Once waited until she was within one foot of the gap. She counted to three. And then she pounced! She leapt forth and thrust the barrel of her weapon into the narrow space.

Nothing. Frak!

Kara lowered her weapon and turned back to Wisher.

"Nothing," she said out loud. "Frakker must have hidden in here when we were chasing it. Waited for us to walk right by it and then took off back down the way it came. Thing could be anywhere by n-"

CLANG!

Kara jumped back. What the frak? She spun around and saw that the metal panel of the adjacent wall had been knocked out of its frame. In its place, having been hiding in a carefully concealed alcove this whole time, stood the Terminator she and her team had been hunting. It was pointing a gun right at Kara's head.

Reacting on instinct, Kara dropped the floor just in time to avoid a three burst volley. The Terminator turned and fled down the corridor before either Kara or Billy could return fire.

Kara scrambled to her feet. "Contact!" she yelled into the mouthpiece of her Greenfang. "Repeat, contact! Enemy sighted! It's heading down Maintenance Corridor 41-J towards Alpha Sector. Green Team move to Bravo Sec, on the double! We've got to cut it off there. Gatekeeper, hold position at Alpha Sec and await further orders. Out."

She then turned to Wisher. "Let's move. I'll take the lead."

"Got your back, Captain," said Wisher with a nod.

Kara and Billy ran down the corridor, navigating their way through the darkness as best as possible, as they pursued the fleeing machine. Several times, they thought they saw or heard a fleeting glimpse of their enemy, but it was never around long enough for them to shoot at.

Eventually, they stopped at the base of some stairs. The machine was nowhere to be found.

Kara spoke into her radio again: "Green Team, this is Red Team. We're nearing Bravo Sec now. What's your status? Over."

"_Red Team, this is Green Team. We're at Bravo now and have taken up defensive positions. No sign of the enemy."_

"Copy that, Green Team. Hold position until we arrive. Out." Kara paused and fiddled with her Greenfang. "Gatekeeper, this is Red Team. What's your status. Over?"

"_Red Team, Gatekeeper. Alpha Sector secure. Situation normal."_

"Stay sharp, Raynor," Kara advised. "This is one tricky toaster, we're dealing with. It could strike when you least-"

Before she could finish her statement, Trip came in over the Greenfang.

"_Contact! Enemy in sight! Fire! Fire! Kill it!" _

There was a two second pause. Then _-_

"_Crap! Under fire!... -cover! Now, now!... Look out, Becka! Arrggghhh! Oh God, it burns! It burns!..." _The transmission ended abruptly.

"Frak!" Kara swore. "Come on, Corporal. Let's move!"

The two of them hustled up the stairs as fast as their feet could take them. They didn't stop running until they had made it all the way to Bravo Sector. The Terminator was nowhere anywhere in sight. What they found instead was Sergeant Trip lying lifelessly on the floor in the middle of the room. Kara sighed and shook her head, knowing there was no point in checking the sergeant. She looked around for Becka but found no sign of her, dead or alive.

"Gatekeeper, this is Red Team," she said, speaking into her radio once more. "Hostile has made it past Bravo Sector and is likely headed your way. Wisher and I are in pursuit."

"_Copy that, Captain. I've taken up position. I should be able to take it out from here."_

"Be advised, Lieutenant," said Kara, "Hostile has already taken out Green Team. Trip is gone. Feral is missing. No sign of her. Keep this channel open. Let me know the moment you see anything-"

"_Hold on... Contact! Repeat, contact! Wait, what the...Oh crap."_

"What's going on, Gatekeeper?" Kara asked over the radio. "Report."

"_Captain, we have a situation here in Alpha Sector!"_ Raynor called through the Greenfang. There was fear evident in his voice. Fear was something Raynor rarely displayed. _"Hostile has Feral! It's holding her hostage. Repeat, hostile has Feral and is holding her hostage. Orders, ma'am?"_

"Hold tight, Gatekeeper. We're on our way," ordered Kara. "Do not fire unless you have a clear shot. Repeat, do not fire unless you have a clear shot at the target. Out."

She sighed and turned to Billy. "Shit's really hit the roof now," she murmured.

They exited Bravo Sector and made their way to Alpha Sector. Upon arriving, they cautiously peered inside through the open doorway.

"_Oh... frak me!"_ thought Kara.

The Terminator was standing in the middle of the room, its back turned to them. With one hand, it fired its weapon at Lieutenant Raynor, who had taken cover behind some crates. The Terminator's other arm was wrapped tightly around a struggling Becka Feral's neck. The machine held Kara's friend in front of itself like a shield, preventing Raynor from returning fire.

Fortunately, however, the machine was so distracted with the lieutenant, that it did not notice the two new arrivals behind it.

"_Perfect,"_ thought Kara. One clean headshot from behind would take the toaster down without harming Becka.

She started to raise her weapon but suddenly paused. This was easy. _Too_ easy.

Too easy for _her_ anyway.

Kara lowered her weapon and turned to Billy Wisher instead. "Corporal," she whispered, "take the shot."

Wisher stared at her for a moment as though stunned. Then he nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

He got into position, raised his weapon to his shoulder, and lined it up with the target. He took a deep breath, then pulled the trigger and fired. A single shot rang out from the barrel of his weapon. There was a yelp, followed by the sound of a body falling to the floor.

Billy exhaled loudly. He slowly turned to Kara. "Target down, ma'am," he reported.

Kara smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. "Nice work." She then added, "So... think you could do that with the _real_ thing?"

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Kara's team was assembled inside one of Fort Leopard's makeshift briefing rooms discussing the results of their latest exercise.

"I trust I didn't permanently damage you, Sergeant Feral," Cameron said.

Becka scowled. "Permanently? No," she grunted. "For the rest of the day? Most definitely." She rubbed her sore neck. "God, how the hell am I gonna sleep tonight?"

Trip smirked and winked at her. "Oh, _I_ think I can help you out there, Becky."

This drew some chuckles from others in the room.

Despite her aching neck, Becka managed to snicker. "Sure about that, Wally?" she said tauntingly. "Don't you want me to look at that _grievous_ _paintball_ _injury_ of yours first?"

She started dramatically clutching at her chest as though in agony. "_It burns! It burns!_" she wailed in mock pain. "_Someone please help me! Waaaaahhhh!"_

The entire team, sans Cameron and Trip, burst out laughing.

Trip's face turned red. "Well _excuse me_ for being a good actor!" he exclaimed indignantly. "If that had really been a plasma bolt instead of a paintball-"

"If that had been a _real_ plasma bolt" interrupted Becka, "you wouldn't be able to feel _anything_. Your nerves would be burned to a _crisp_."

"You know, Becka, you are really starting to turn me off-"

Kara cleared her throat loudly. "All right, that's enough," she said out loud. She turned to Cameron. "What was our time, Cam?"

"Two hours, thirty-six minutes," Cameron reported.

Kara nodded. "That's definitely an improvement," she said. "But it's still not good enough. We need to get under ninety minutes, people. So, here's what we're gonna do next time. We'll split into-"

Before she could go any further, her Greenfang headset beeped.

"_Attention, Captain Thrace. This is General Koontz. Please report to my office on the double."_

"On my way, sir," she replied into her Greenfang.

She sighed to herself. She'd better get going. Whatever this was about, it was obviously important. Koontz never wasted her time with trivial matters.

Kara turned her attention back to her team. "We'll have to cut this short, people. The general wants to see me. We'll meet back here later today to finish this up. You'll receive the exact time on your PDAs, so check them regularly. In the meantime, you're dismissed. Good job, everyone."

She promptly exited the room, and headed for the general's office, walking as fast as possible. Koontz never wasted her time, and likewise she never wasted his.

* * *

When Kara arrived outside the general's office fifteen minutes later, she discovered to her surprise that the usual security detail responsible for guarding Koontz's office was absent. In their place stood a large, unarmed man dressed in combat fatigues. He was just standing there in front of the door with his hands behind his back, staring straight ahead, showing no indications that he noticed Kara was there.

Kara decided to get the man's attention. She cleared her throat loudly and stepped forward. "Excuse me," she started to say, "What's going on here? Who are y-"

She instinctively recoiled upon seeing the stranger's face. It was an emotionless face. A face made of rubber. A T-600.

"_Frak me,"_ thought a dumbfounded Kara._ "Koontz is using a T-600 to guard his office now? When did this happen?"_

The T-600, having finally registered Kara's presence, addressed her in a monotonic voice: "You are Captain Kara Thrace, are you not?"

"Ermm... Yeah, that's right," said Kara cautiously. "I'm here to-"

The T-600 interrupted her abruptly. "I know. General Koontz has been expecting you. Wait here." It turned around and opened the door to Koontz's office. "Captain Thrace is here, General," It announced.

"Good," Kara heard Koontz say, "send her in at once, Ash."

"Yes, General," said T-600 flatly. It turned back to Kara. "You may enter, Captain," it stated.

"Thank you," said Kara with a nod.

The T-600 gave no sign of acknowledgment. Instead, it resumed staring straight ahead. With nothing else left to do, Kara entered General Koontz's office. Inside, she found the general waiting for her. Also with him was a dark haired woman in some sort of black uniform whom Kara had never seen before.

"Captain Thrace, reporting as ordered, sir," Kara announced. She straightened her shoulders and saluted as she addressed the general.

Koontz returned the salute. "Glad you could make it, Captain," he said. He turned and gestured to the woman in the black uniform. "Thrace, meet Special Agent Veronica Brice from the Division of Essential Intelligence and Major Operations Support."

_"Division of Essential Intelligence and Major Operations Support?"_ thought a stunned Kara. _"DEIMOS? She's one of them?"_

DEIMOS was the branch of Resistance Intelligence tasked with gathering and delivering information for all Special Operations forces within the Resistance. If Spec Ops was the Resistance's silent dagger, then DEIMOS was the cloak that allowed it to be silent. Although technically just one division of Resistance Intelligence, DEIMOS was the Resistance's most effective, most efficient intelligence-gathering agency, due to the fact that General Connor had given them a great deal of autonomy. Because DEIMOS was organized in an isolated cell structure, it was impossible to know just how extensive their operations were. It was said, though, that there was at least one active DEIMOS operative for every Spec Ops Team.

Kara had a feeling she was meeting the one for her team.

Agent Brice held out a gloved hand towards Kara. "I've heard a lot about you, Captain Thrace," she said.

Kara shook Brice's hand. "Can't say I've heard much about _you_, Agent Brice," she replied.

Brice fixed Kara with an officious no-nonsense look. "Of course you haven't," she stated crisply. "That is the nature of our... business."

"No kidding," murmured Kara. She cleared her throat. "So, that T-600 out there? Is that-"

"Mine?" Brice nodded. "Yes. Ash is my bodyguard. You understand why I might need protecting, don't you?"

Kara wasn't so sure about that. Agent Brice appeared to be athletically built and was at least two inches taller than Kara. The woman had obviously seen her fair share of battles, as evidenced by several scars on her face, including what looked like a plasma scorch on one cheek. This was definitely not a woman someone would want to pick a fight with - even if she didn't have a T-600 bodyguard at her side.

"Please, everyone, sit down," General Koontz said. "Let's not waste any more time."

Kara found an empty chair and sat down. Brice also took a seat next to Kara. The two of them glanced at each other and their eyes made contact for a moment. Kara suddenly felt a shiver run down her spine as she got the unnerving impression that Agent Brice was searching her for weak points - like a predator observing its prey.

"Now then, Thrace, let's get straight to the matter at hand," said General Koontz once he had sat down behind his desk. "Agent Brice is here to conduct an in-depth evaluation of your team."

Kara's heart skipped a beat.

"_What?_" She gaped at Brice in disbelief. "You're... _investigating my team?_"

"_Evaluating_, Captain," corrected Agent Brice. "I'm here to determine whether or not your Special Operations team should be allowed to continue operating, as well as if any changes need to be made."

"I-I don't understand," Kara stuttered, "Has my team... _done_ something? _Failed_ to do something?"

"I don't know yet," said Brice curtly. "This evaluation is standard procedure that all Special Operations units must go through every so often."

Kara frowned in confusion. "But why is DEIMOS doing this-this evaluation?" she asked. "No offense or anything, but last time I checked, you guys are supposed to be giving us intelligence on Skynet, not on _ourselves_."

Brice's nostrils flared almost indignantly.

"True, Captain," she said pointedly, "but we need to know if the people we're giving information to can be trusted to act on it appropriately. This is especially true in your case given the abnormal circumstances under which your team was formed."

"Abnormal circumstances? What abnormal circumstances?" demanded Kara.

"Your team, the Swamp Foxes as you call them, was created eight months ago for a specific mission," explained Brice.

"Yeah, I know. The liberation of Umbrella. What's your point?"

"You accomplished that mission, and therefore your team's purpose was also accomplished. As it stands, your team shouldn't actually be active anymore."

Kara felt her mouth go dry. She turned to General Koontz. "Is that true, sir?" she asked quietly.

"More or less, I'm afraid," answered Koontz in a somewhat apologetic manner. "Technically, you and your team have been on... well, let's just say silent probation for the last eight months. That's why DEIMOS sent Agent Brice here. Her evaluation will determine whether or not your team should be given a permanent active status."

He leaned forward across his desk and looked Kara in the eye.

"I hope you understand the importance of this, Thrace," he said sternly, "I expect you to give Agent Brice your full cooperation on this matter. The same goes for everyone else on your team. Is that understood, Captain?"

Kara nodded. "Yes, sir," she said.

Brice spoke up again. "I'll be requiring access to all your mission reports and personnel files as soon as possible," she said. "Furthermore, starting tomorrow, I'll be interviewing the individual members of your team separately." She paused. "Are there any problems with these arrangements, Captain Thrace?"

Kara sighed. She didn't like this, but there wasn't much she could do. "No," she said, shaking her head. "No, of course not, Agent Brice. Can I just ask that you try to be as... _discrete_ as possible?"

Brice nodded. "Of course, Captain Thrace. I can assure you, my evaluation will not disrupt your team's routine in any way."

An eerie smile then appeared on Brice's face. Kara felt a chill run down her spine once more.

"I've heard you and your team are the best, Captain," said Agent Brice. "I'm looking forward to getting to know you better."

"I'm sure you are..." Kara muttered.

* * *

**Cylon Basestar **_**Natalie**_**  
Holding position behind Earth's moon  
9:35 AM, Wednesday, May 20, 2009 (Pacific Time)**

"Here we are," announced Leoben. "The bridge."

Kara looked around. The bridge of the Basestar looked pretty much the same as it did the last time she had been here. There was, however, one major addition - a giant holographic image of Earth at the center.

"Not exactly the bridge of the _Enterprise_," remarked John, who was standing behind Kara.

"Was it always like this?" Sarah asked Kara.

"Pretty much," replied Kara... "Well except for _that_..." She pointed to the giant hologram of Earth. "I don't remember that."

Leoben nodded. "That's our Planetary Holographic Analysis Projector, or Plangelator for short. We built it using old Holoband technology."

"Impressive," remarked Kara.

As the group moved in for a closer look at the Plangelator, they ran into Maggie standing beside several Centurions. She had changed out of her Cylon flightsuit and was now wearing some casual civilian clothing. Her hands were immersed in the ship's liquid data stream and she was humming to herself, something which Kara had never thought she was cable of doing.

"Morning, guys," said Maggie cheerfully when she saw them. She withdrew her hands from the pool and wiped them on her pants. "Sleep well?" she asked.

"Yes," lied Sarah and John.

"Sort of," said Kara semi-truthfully. "How about you-?" She shook her head. "Wait... Forget it. Never mind."

"Still having trouble accepting Leoben and I as a couple?" asked Maggie.

"No... not that," replied Kara, "It's just that I've... I've never seen you so _happy_ before, Racetrack... Maggie. It-it's just... _weird_." She shook her head again. "I'm sorry. Forget I said anything."

At that point, one of the Centurions approached them. It was a mainstream type, but unlike all the others, it had a gold glowing eye rather than a red one.

"_Greetings, Kara Thrace, Sarah Connor, John Connor. __We welcome your presence here,__"_ it said in a mechanical but gentle voice.

Kara, John, and Sarah all exchanged uncertain looks, not entirely sure what to say to the polite, chrome-plated giant automaton.

"Um... thank you," said Kara, unable to think of anything else to say. "Thank you very much."

_"I trust you have enjoyed your stay here so far," _said the gold-eyed Centurion.

"Yes," replied Kara bobbing her head up and down. She glanced over her shoulder at Sarah and John. "Right, guys?"

Sarah and John both nodded.

Kara smiled uneasily. "Yeah... so, uh," -she cleared her throat- "sorry, but who exactly are you?"

_"I am the Executor of the Cylons," _answered the Centurion. _"The will of my people."_

Sarah spoke up at last. "Are you the... the leader of the Cylons?" she asked quietly.

_"We are many, and we are one, Sarah Connor,"_ stated the Executor. "_We speak with one voice. __I am that voice."_

"So... yes?" asked Sarah, not certain what the Executor meant.

"The Centurions are hive minded," explained Leoben. "They voice their thoughts through the Executor."

"Hive minded?" asked Sarah. "You mean like... like..."

_"The Borg,"_ John whispered into her ear.

* * *

**Fort Leopard  
September 24, 2025**

Much to Kara's dismay, the very news that they were being evaluated by DEIMOS was enough to disrupt her team's daily routine. Her entire team was on the edge, and were constantly distracted.

"How long has Raynor been gone for?" Becka whispered to Billy.

"Forty-five minutes so far," replied Billy.

"I wonder what that woman's doing to him?" said Becka anxiously.

"Can't be anything too bad," said Billy. He looked at Trip. "Right?"

"I don't know, Wisher," Trip replied forebodingly, "I've heard some pretty ugly rumors about DEIMOS."

"Like what?" asked Billy.

"Well, for one thing," Trip started to say, "they're not above torturing you if they think you've got something to hide-"

"_Hey!_" Kara barked, causing all three to jump. "That's enough chatter over there!"

She mentally sighed to herself. That was the third time so far she'd had to do that.

"Like I was saying," she said, "we've received reports of T-800 endoskeletons starting to show up on the battlefield. As you know, the T-800, though it looks similar to the usual T-650 infantry endo, is definitely not the same. It has a significantly tougher hyperalloy chassis, a superior tracking system, and is generally stronger and faster compared to the T-650. Therefore, it's more important than ever to... anyone?"

"Aim for the chip," Trip, Becka, and Billy all answered simultaneously.

Kara nodded. "Correct," she said. "In addition, we need to fight _smarter_. That means avoiding prolonged firefights and using more hit-and-run tactics. Isolation and elimination, people. We spread 'em out, and work in pairs to take them down one at a time..."

She was interrupted by the sound of the door to the mission briefing room opening. She looked up and saw Lieutenant Raynor enter the room.

"Lieutenant," she said pleasantly, "glad you could join us."

Raynor nodded. "Yes, ma'am." He took a seat next to Trip.

"How'd it go?" asked Trip in a low voice.

"I can't talk about it," replied Raynor gruffly. "But I will say this. Agent Brice is extremely thorough. Takes her job seriously. Ice cold professionalism."

"Is that good or bad?" asked Trip anxiously.

Raynor shrugged. "Depends on what you say and if she believes you or not. Oh, and by the way, Trip, you're up next."

"Shit..." cursed Trip.

Kara cleared her throat very loudly.

"Oh!" Trip turned his attention back to his captain. "Sorry, ma'am."

Satisfied she had gotten everyone's attention (at least for the moment), Kara resumed speaking. "Anyways, like I was saying, about fighting T-800s, we need to..." She looked down at her notes and scowled. "Frak... I lost my place. Now, I have to start all over again."

She shook her head and sighed. This was gonna be a long day.

* * *

The day only seemed to get longer. Two hours later, she found out from Stephen Hodgins that she wouldn't be able to use Cameron today. Apparently, Agent Brice wanted the relevant data in Cameron's chip downloaded and delivered to her. This meant Cameron would be offline for the next twelve hours.

Presently, Kara was in Hodgins' lab, pacing back and forth. In one corner of the room, Billy Wisher was busy setting up some computer equipment.

"Oops," she heard Billy say to himself. "Hey, Starbuck, could you pick that up for me?"

Kara looked down and saw a screwdriver rolling in her direction. She bent down, scooped it up, and handed it back to Wisher.

"Thanks," said Wisher. He went back to work. "What will happen to us if DEIMOS decides to deactivate our team?"

"I don't know," said Kara with a shrug. "I suppose we go back to do whatever it was we were doing before. Most likely, I'll get bumped down back to lieutenant and become a Spec Ops agent again. Hopefully, they'll let Cam be my partner again. Becka will probably go back to being a battlefield medic. Raynor and Trip will probably just get moved back to whatever Spec Ops teams I _borrowed_ them from. And as for you, Wisher, I'm sure Hodgins would be more than happy to have you back here full time."

Wisher shook his head. "I don't think I want to go back here."

Kara frowned. "I thought you said you used to like being here, working for Hodgins."

Wisher nodded. "Yeah, I did. But only because..." He paused, uncertain as to whether or not to continue. "Because it felt safe here," he said at last. "Because I didn't want to face what was out there."

"The machines?" asked Kara.

"No," said Wisher sadly, "I mean reality. The real world... or what's left of it... I mean look at this place," Wisher gestured around the lab, "you stay down here long enough, you forget what's really out there." He sighed. "I need to be up there with everyone else."

"So, what are you saying?" asked Kara. "You want to be on the frontlines?"

Billy put his screwdriver down and looked at Kara directly.

"I want to stop _hiding_," he asserted earnestly. "I need to face what I've..." He paused. "Well, what I've lost, I guess. That's why I'm glad you made me part of your team, Captain. You got me out there. Facing reality."

Kara smiled. "Well, you're very much welcome, Billy," she said. "But we haven't been deactivated _yet_." She checked her watch. "Becka's being interviewed right now. I guess after that, you'll be up next. Then after that it's me."

"Any advice, Captain?" asked Billy, who looked extremely apprehensive. "For when it's my turn."

"Be confident, assertive, and don't give her any reason to doubt you," stated Kara. "Oh, and don't bother trying to appeal to her sense of humor. She has none."

Stephen Hodgins then entered the room. "Is everything ready, Wisher?" he asked.

"Yes, Mr. Hodgins," replied Billy. "The equipment's all set up just as you wanted."

"Excellent," said Hodgins. "Let's hook our girl up." He retrieved a CPU - Cameron's CPU - from the front pocket of his lab coat and set it down on the table next to the computer.

"I can take it from here, Wisher," said Hodgins. He turned to Kara. "And I'll let you know as soon as Cameron's back online, Captain."

Kara nodded. "Thanks, Hodgins." She placed a hand on Billy's shoulder. "Come on, Billy. Let's get lunch."

* * *

At lunch, things didn't seem so bad. The team, sans Cameron, were fully assembled in the mess hall. Because they were off duty, they were free to talk and socialize. It felt relaxing for a change. Becka had just returned from her interview with Agent Brice. Now Kara and Billy were the only ones left.

"That woman sure was creepy," Becka remarked.

"Creepy in what way?" asked Billy through a mouthful of tinned spaghetti.

"The way she could read me... The little things she knew about me..." said Becka. "It felt like she was _inside_ me."

Trip chuckled. "You mean like the way it feels when I'm inside of- OW! Hey, watch it, Becka! - OW! Cut that- OW! Ok, ok, ok, I'm sorry! Please stop stomping on my foot!"

"No problem, Wally," said Becka, a nasty grin on her face. "So tell me, how'd your interview go?"

"Well... I didn't think she was that bad," said Trip with a shrug. "A bit condescending a times, kind of like Miss Severude." He tapped Becka on the shoulder. "You remember her, don't you, Becka? Miss Severude. From high school?"

"Ugh," muttered Becka, "You mean Miss Severely Rude. That bitch of a librarian?"

"Yeah," said Trip. "Kinda like that. Except that she looks a hell of a lot better than Miss Severude." Upon seeing the glare Becka was giving him, he quickly added. "Which isn't saying much, of course."

Satisfied, Becka withdrew her glare and smiled.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the table, Kara was engrossed in a conversation with Raynor concerning the rumors surrounding DEIMOS.

"I've heard that they sell food, medicine, and fuel to Muto gangs and rogue military factions in exchange information or salvaged Skynet technology," Raynor was telling her.

"That doesn't seem so bad," said Kara, munching on a slice of bread.

Raynor shook his head. "Except that they commandeer shipments of supplies meant for civilian refugee camps. At least that's what I've heard."

Kara slowly swallowed the food in her mouth. "Do you... believe that?" she asked hesitantly.

"There are things out there that are worse than the machines. We both know that," said Raynor grimly. "After seeing again and again what people are capable of doing to other people, I wouldn't be surprised if the stories were true."

Kara nodded slowly. "Neither would I," she said solemnly.

* * *

Six hours later, Kara was in Fort Leopard's armory, speaking with Marcus.

"Are you sure this is all you can give me?" Kara asked, looking glumly at the meager number of fresh power cells she had been given.

"Affirmative," replied Marcus. "There has been a severe shortage of Mark-II power cells ever since Skynet discontinued production of the M-42 plasma rifle several months ago. All of its new weapons use the Mark-III power cell variant, which, as you know, is incompatible with the SIG-44B."

"Don't our contacts in Mexico and Switzerland have their own power cell production plants?" asked Kara.

"Yes, but they can not manufacture them at optimal rates," said Marcus. "There is an alternative, however."

"What's that?" asked Kara.

"I suggest instead of using your SIG-44B, you use this." Marcus placed what looked like a chrome plated Uzi in front of Kara. "This is the new NV-30 Phased Plasma Disruptor. It utilizes the new power cell."

"I've seen those a few times," remarked Kara. "Usually in pairs."

"Correct," said Marcus, "We recently acquired fifty of these along with two hundred Mark-III power cells from a weapons cache that was raided three weeks ago. The NV-30 retains the three basic firing modes of its predecessors. It has a far superior rate of fire than the SIG-44B, an improved cooling system, and its Mark-III power cell contains enough fuel for 120 pulses."

Kara took the NV-30 in her hands. It was a lot heavier than it looked. She needed both hands to hold it properly. "What are the drawbacks?" she asked.

"It has only 56 percent the effective range of the SIG-44B and the M-42," replied Marcus. "And only 70 percent the power per pulse."

"Plus, it doesn't have room to mount a sight," commented Kara. She placed the NV-30 back on the table. "Isn't the SIG-50E supposed to use the new power cells?"

"Affirmative," said Marcus, "but that model has only just cleared the prototype stages and will not be ready for distribution for at least another month."

"What about _that_?" asked Kara, pointing to a huge plasma rifle in the corner of the room.

"That is the new Skynet M-75 phased plasma rifle," said Marcus. "It uses the Mark-III power cell and is superior to both the SIG-44B and the M-42 in all respects."

"Great. Can I have one?"

"Negative."

"What? Why not?"

"It would not be practical for a human to use in combat."

"Really?" Kara put her hands on her hips. "I'll be the judge of _that_."

She strode over to the corner, grabbed the M-75, and lifted it up. Almost immediately she ran into trouble. The thing was so heavy and bulky, it took all her strength just to bring it to shoulder height. Worse, the design itself was incredibly awkward, and unwieldy. It seemed as though Skynet had deliberately built this weapon to be as difficult as possible for a human to wield.

Exhausted, Kara dropped the rifle back in the corner. "Ok," she grunted, "I see your point."

She massaged her aching arms and sighed.

" You know what?" she said, shrugging her shoulders. " I'll just stick with my SIG-44B for now, and wait until the new version comes out."

"Are you certain of that?" asked Marcus, clearly disapproving of her decision.

Kara nodded. "I'll just have to conserve ammo for now. Thanks for your time, Marcus. Always appreciate it."

She gathered up the power cells Marcus had given her, and started to head for the exit. Suddenly, the armory door slid open, and a figure stumbled into the room.

Kara dropped the power cells she was carrying. "Wisher?" she gasped, startled.

"C-Captain!" Billy jumped when he saw her. "Good to see you, ma'am. They, uh, they told me I'd find you here..."

Kara approached Billy. "Are you ok?" she asked.

"Me? I-I'm fine," said Billy. "F-fine, ma'am."

His face told a different story, however. The color from Wisher's face had been completely drained. His eyes were dilated and Kara could see pure fear in them. The man was frightened. _Traumatized_.

"No, you aren't. You look like hell," said Kara, who was starting to become frightened herself now.

She placed a hand on Billy's forehead. "Frak me, Wisher! You're burning up!"

"H-hell... burning... I'm burning..." Billy mumbled. "L-like she said I would..."

"Marcus!" Kara called out over her shoulder. "I need your help here."

She turned back to Billy. "Come on, Billy. Why don't you sit down?"

Billy nodded. "Sure... Sit down... Good idea," he muttered.

Kara walked Billy over to a chair and helped him sit down.

"Something is definitely wrong with him, Marcus," she said.

Marcus placed a finger on Billy's neck and held it there for three seconds. "Heart rate is 140 beats per minute. Blood pressure level at 134. Temperature at 103 degrees Celsius. All above the normal levels," he reported.

Kara looked Billy in the face. "What happened, Billy?" she asked.

Billy Wisher avoid her gaze. "I-I'm sorry," he mumbled, "I-I'm sorry. Please..."

"Billy!" Kara grabbed him by the shoulders. "Look at me! Look at me!"

Billy just shook his head. "N-no! No! No! NO!" he babbled. "Don't make me! No, please don't make me!"

Desperate, Kara knelt down in front of him.

"What happened?" she pleaded. "Please, tell me what happened. Billy, please."

Billy slowly looked up at Kara.

"She-she..." whispered Billy. He swallowed. "She knew... Somehow, she-she... I-I don't know how... Six hours... That's how long she had me for, I think."

Tears were running down his eyes now. "She made me beg!" he choked out. "And I begged! I-I told her I was sorry. Oh God, I'm sorry... so sorry... Please, I-I didn't mean... Please..." He trailed off, mumbling incoherently, unable to say another word.

Kara, however, had heard enough. "Don't worry, Wisher," she said gently, "we'll get you help."

She stood up and turned to Marcus. "Marcus, could you take Corporal Wisher to the infirmary, please?"

"Very well," said Marcus. "What about you, Captain?"

Kara gritted her teeth. "I'm gonna have a little chat with a certain friend," she said.

* * *

By the time Kara had located and arrived at Agent Brice's temporary office, she was boiling with rage. She was so angry, not even the presence of Ash standing behind Brice was enough to make her back off.

"Captain Thrace," said Agent Brice casually. "I don't believe I've asked for you yet."

"Yeah, well, you still got it," hissed Kara. She walked right up to Brice. "Just what the hell did you do to Wisher?"

"I beg your pardon?" said Brice, looking confused.

"Wisher. Corporal Wisher. He was here, right? You interviewed him?"

Brice nodded. "That's right."

"You had him here for six hours!" exclaimed Kara. "Six full hours! Why?"

"I spent extra time with Corporal Wisher because he did not have formal Special Operations training," explained Brice. "Naturally, I had to be sure that-"

"You did more than just spend extra time with him," said Kara angrily. "I just saw him. He's a nervous wreck! Traumatized! You did something to him. What did you do to him, Agent Brice?"

Brice's face hardened. "If Wisher couldn't handle a little stress, then obviously he's not meant to be in Special Operations," she said curtly. "Which makes sense given that he never had Special Operations training."

"You haven't answered my question, Brice!" said Kara, her face red with anger. "What the frak did you to do to him?"

"You know I can't reveal that information, Captain Thrace," replied Brice. "I suggest you back down at once. You still have your own evaluation to consider."

Kara held her ground. "Listen here," she said angrily, "I don't care if you have the whole of DEIMOS behind you. The people on my team are _my_ people. I will not stand by and let you torture and abuse them under _any_ circumstances!"

"Is that so? Well, in case you've forgotten, Thrace," said Brice, "you agreed to give me your full cooperation on this matter."

"I agreed to cooperate because I was under the impression that we would be treated with the respect we're entitled too!" growled Kara.

"Really?" said Brice almost mockingly, "_I_ was under the impression that you had agreed to cooperate because it was your duty to do so, regardless of how you were treated."

Kara curled her hands into fists.

"Why are you _really_ here, Agent Brice?" she demanded. "What's _really_ going on?"

"I'm here to do a _job_, Captain Thrace," stated Brice, now clearly losing her patience with Kara. "The question I'm wondering is - why are _you_ here, Captain? Other than to tell me how highly you think of _your_ people despite their shortcomings, and how _attached_ you are to them?"

"To do _this_!" Kara snarled. She lashed out with her right fist, striking Agent Brice in the face and knocking her backwards.

The next few moments were a blur. She suddenly found herself being grabbed by the crook of her arm and thrown across the room. Kara landed in a heap next to the doorway. Though dazed, she still managed to see Ash coming for her. Panicking, Kara attempted to scramble out the room on her hands and knees, but the T-600 was already upon her. It pressed a booted foot down on her back, driving her back to the floor. Kara felt her spinal column start to crack when-

"I would not do that if I were you."

Another pair of boots had suddenly appeared right at the doorway. Kara lifted her head up and saw that the boots belonged to Marcus. The scrubbed Triple-Eight was standing at the open doorway, an M-75 plasma rifle in one hand.

"Agent Brice, please order your T-600 to release Captain Thrace at once," Marcus instructed, "or I will have no choice but to employ deadly force."

"Let her go, Ash," Kara heard Brice say.

Ash released his hold on Kara, who pulled herself to her feet, and beat a hasty retreat out of Brice's office.

"Are you hurt, Captain Thrace?" asked Marcus when she was outside.

Kara shook her head. "No. I'm fine, Marcus, I'm fine," she said. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

She headed down the corridor, trying to put as much distance between her and Brice as possible.

"How's Corporal Wisher?" she asked Marcus once they were far enough away.

"In the infirmary," replied Marcus. "Dr. Miller is examining him now. He will have further details on the corporal's condition soon."

Kara nodded. "Good. That's good. Hey, Marcus?"

"Yes, Captain?" asked Marcus.

"Thank you," said Kara graciously. "Really. Thank you."

Marcus nodded in acknowledgment. "You're welcome," he said.

* * *

Forty minutes later, Kara found herself in General Koontz's office getting her ass chewed out.

"What were you _thinking_, captain?" Koontz demanded angrily. "Do you have _any_ idea what you've just done?"

"I-I lost control, sir," answered Kara truthfully.

Koontz snorted. "That's putting it mildly."

"Sir, I know my actions were out of line," Kara started to say, "and I apologize for-"

"It's not _me_ you should be apologizing to!" thundered Koontz. "It's Agent Brice! She's the one you struck!"

Kara's shoulders bristled. "With all due respect, sir, that is not going to happen."

Koontz shook his head. "It's amazing, Thrace," he said, "how sometimes you can be the most brilliant person in the Resistance, and at other times you can be perhaps the stupidest human ever to exist. The latter describes you perfectly right now."

"I agree, sir," said Kara, "But you have to hear me out. Agent Brice is trying to _destroy_ my team! The woman is like a predator. All this time, she's been scoping out our weak points and hitting us there. Like with Corporal Wisher. She did _something_ to him! I don't know what it was, but she did _something_ to him. Something that's completely... well, _wrecked_ him."

"Dr. Miller tells me that Corporal Wisher became ill due to a contaminant in his food," said Koontz. "It has nothing to do with Agent Brice."

"That's not true, sir!" argued Kara. "Brice had Wisher with her for six hours! Six hours! She _admitted_ it herself."

"Even if that's true, there's no evidence that she tortured Wisher," Koontz said angrily. "And in any case, that doesn't excuse the fact that you assaulted a member of Resistance Intelligence."

"Sir, I'll be willing to accept whatever punishment you think is appropriate for me-"

"_I'm_ not going to be the one who punishes you, Captain. Agent Brice and the whole of DEIMOS will see to that. And they won't just be punishing you. They'll be punishing your entire team."

Kara's face paled. "She's... she's gonna have my team deactivated, isn't she?" she mumbled.

Koontz sighed and shook his head. The anger in his face had now turned to regret. "I suppose in some ways, this is my own fault," he said quietly, "I did what I did, knowing it would inevitably invite trouble."

"Sir?" asked Kara.

Koontz sighed and sat down at his desk. "Do you know why your team wasn't disbanded after the liberation of Umbrella?"

"I have wondered about that, sir," said Kara.

"Your team is part of the Los Angeles Unit," said Koontz, "and as such only the commander of the LA Unit, me, can authorize the deactivation of your team. But I didn't want to do it. I deliberately neglected to sign the order to have your team deactivated. I took a risk and broke protocol to keep your team alive! And why? Because you and your team are the best soldiers I've got! Possibly the best soldiers in the entire Goddamn Resistance!"

Kara heard the anguished pain in Koontz's voice. She felt sick to her stomach. Sick with guilt.

"I've kept your team alive these past eight months," Koontz continued, "but now nature is about to take its course. Agent Brice will submit a recommendation to DEIMOS that your team be deactivated. DEIMOS will then send that recommendation to General Connor. Connor is then going to give me a direct order to disband your team. And when that happens, I will have no choice but to carry out that order, no matter how much I don't want to."

By now, Kara was practically drowning in guilt. "Sir... please," she begged. "I-I'm sorry... But Agent Brice... she's up to something. I just know it-"

"_Of course_ she's up to something!" exclaimed Koontz loudly, standing up from his chair. "She's DEIMOS. They wouldn't be what they are if they _weren't_ always up to something. But that doesn't dismiss the fact that we _need_ them to win this war. And _they_ need to know that they can count on _us_. But most importantly, _Connor_ needs to know that _he_ can count on us to do our Goddamn jobs! So, if I have to sacrifice your team - the best I have - to prove that the people under my command can be trusted to do their duty, then so be it!"

He sat down in his chair again, a tired and fatigued look on his face. "I'll speak with Agent Brice," he said wearily, staring down at his desk now. "See what I can do to salvage this fiasco. In the meantime, Captain, keep yourself in your quarters and don't leave until someone says you can leave."

Kara started to protest. "Sir, I-"

Koontz cut her off with a sharp look. "This isn't a request, Captain," said he curtly. "It's an order. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," Kara said quietly.

Koontz looked down at his desk again. "Dismissed," he said almost apathetically.

* * *

When Kara made it back to her quarters, she was furious. Furious at Brice. Furious at Koontz. Furious at herself.

Furious at her helmet which was lying on the floor instead of on her desk.

"FRAK!" she screamed. She kicked the helmet, and it when flying off the floor. It hit the opposite wall, ricocheted back... and struck Kara right in the face. Kara yelled and stumbled backwards, clutching her nose in pain.

"Frak, frak, frak!" she cursed.

She sat down on her bed, and grabbed a towel to wipe the blood off.

"It's not over yet, Starbuck," said Admiral Adama, who had appeared next to her.

"It will be soon, sir," muttered Kara. She began wiping her face. "Agent Brice is gonna destroy my team and probably have me exiled to some remote outpost."

"Have faith in your friends, Kara," said Adama gently. He placed a hand on her shoulder. "They'll help you through this..."

Kara put the towel down. "My friends are going to _suffer_ because of me," she bemoaned. "Because of my stupidity."

"You defended them, Kara," Adama told her. "You put yourself on the line for them. They'll do the same for you." He smiled. "You'll see."

Before Kara could ask any more questions, she was suddenly alone again.

* * *

In the hours that crept by, Kara lay in her bed dreading the inevitable fate of her team. She wondered how they would react when they found out what was going to happen to them and why. Would they understand her? Would they forgive her? Would they even talk to her?

And then there was General Koontz. The man who had believed in her. The man who had risked everything for her. The man who had considered her the best he had. And now, because of her, everything he had worked for would be for nothing.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Startled Kara got up off her bed and answered it.

"Cam?" she said, surprised to see her cyborg partner waiting for her.

"Hello, Captain Thrace," said Cameron. "I've been asked to escort you to Agent Brice's office for your interview."

Kara groaned. _Her_ interview? It seemed as though that DEIMOS bitch wanted to torment her some more before delivering the finishing blow.

"So," she asked dully. "Did you hear what happened with me and Brice?"

"Yes," replied Cameron. "I can only say that-"

"That I'm an idiot, right?" said Kara.

"That your actions were irrational but also consistent with your psychological profile."

Kara rolled her eyes. "Thanks, Cam." She shook her head and sighed. "Come on, let's get this over with." As she followed Cameron out into the hallway, she said, "And Cam?"

Cameron stopped. "Yes?"

"It's good to have you back," said Kara.

She reached out and hugged Cameron - something which she had never done before.

"With all due respect, Captain Thrace, I suggest we keep moving," said Cameron, clearly confused by Kara's embrace.

Kara let go of her. "Yeah, good idea," she said, managing to smile.

* * *

When she and Cameron arrived at Agent Brice's temporary office, Kara prepared herself for a session of taunts and threats. She decided that since she was already doomed, she might as well just take it. What was the worst Agent Brice could do to her at this point?

To her surprise, she found General Koontz standing outside of Agent Brice's office.

"General," Kara said saluting him.

"Captain," the general nodded at her.

Kara felt a pang of guilt in her stomach again. She wanted to tell Koontz how sorry she was that she had disappointed him, but then she noticed the general was giving her a reassuring look. She walked by Koontz without saying another word.

When Kara entered Agent Brice's office, she found Brice sitting at her desk waiting for her. Strangely enough though, Ash was nowhere in sight.

"Captain Thrace," said Brice, in an extremely neutral manner, "please shut the door behind you and sit down."

Kara shut the door behind her and took a seat.

Agent Brice was looking at a PDA which no doubt contained detailed files on Kara. Kara looked her over. The mark from Kara's punch was still on her face. Brice herself looked as cold as ever. She did not, however, look angry. Kara wasn't sure to take this as a good sign or not.

Brice looked up from her PDA and addressed Kara at last.

"So then," she said, "let's start off with some things we already know. You are Captain Kara Thrace, Serial Number TC 2983-75208-202?"

"Yes," said Kara.

Brice nodded and glanced back down at her PDA. "You joined the Resistance approximately eighteen months ago on March 21st of 2024?"

"Yes," said Kara.

"You were found near the frontlines by a Resistance patrol and brought back to Bunker Five. You then volunteered to join the garrison at Bunker Five in exchange for being allowed to stay there?"

"Yes."

"Two weeks later, you were given a battlefield promotion to Lieutenant and then transferred here to Fort Leopard?"

"Yes."

"Eight months ago, you were promoted to the rank of captain and given command of a Special Operations unit?"

"Yes."

"This unit consists of the following individuals: Senior Lieutenant Jack Raynor, Gunnery Sergeant Walter Trip, Staff Sergeant Rebecca Feral, Lance Corporal Billy Wisher, and a reprogrammed Terminator named Cameron?"

"Yes," answered Kara, wondering when they were going to get to the _real_ questions.

Agent Brice put her PDA down. "All right," she said. "Now then, Captain Thrace, tell me: Can you personally vouch for the loyalty and professionalism of each and every member of your team?"

Kara leaned forward and looked Brice in the eyes. "Yes," she said with as much confidence and resolve as she could muster.

Brice nodded. "Thank you very much, Captain. You can go now."

Kara blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I said you can go now," said Brice.

Kara's mouth hung open. "B-but _that_ was _it_? That's _all_ you're going to ask me?"

"Yes," replied Agent Brice matter-of-factly. "I'm completely satisfied."

"Ummm... Ok," said Kara. She turned around and started to leave.

"Oh, and Captain?"

Kara turned back around. "Yes?"

"I apologize for any... inconvenience this may have caused you," said Agent Brice. "Nobody likes their loyalties being questioned. But it does help us remember where they lie."

Kara felt a sudden tingling in her spine. She had heard those words before. But where? She couldn't remember.

Kara left Agent Brice's office, and found General Koontz waiting for her.

"General," Kara began to say, "she-she-"

"Is going to recommend to DEIMOS that your team be given permanent activation status," said Koontz. He was smiling. "Congratulations, Captain."

"I don't understand, sir? What happened?" asked a bewildered Kara.

"I met with Agent Brice in private," said General Koontz. "I reminded her that there's supposedly at least one DEIMOS agent per Spec Ops team. So, if we were to lose one team, then logically DEIMOS would lose at least one agent _too_. I then posed the question to her as to who that agent might be."

A dumbstruck and relieved Kara laughed. "Sir, I-I don't know what to say. I-I... Thank you, sir. I don't know how I can-"

"Just keep being the best I've got, Captain," said Koontz.

"Yes, sir." Kara saluted and Koontz saluted back.

"One more thing, Starbuck," said Koontz, "before you go."

Kara was again caught off guard. Koontz had never called her by her nickname before. "Yes, sir?"

"You take care of your people. I take care of mine," said Koontz. "You understand, I assume?"

Kara nodded. "Yes, sir. Yes, I do, sir."

* * *

Trip held up his bottle of beer. "Here's to us," he said happily. "The most badass group of soldiers in the Resistance. So badass that our fearless leader can get away with decking a nosy Intelligence agent. Am I right, Swamp Foxes?"

Raynor held up his bottle as well. "_Semper Fi,_" he proclaimed, "Forever faithful."

"Amen to that," replied Becka, holding up her beer too.

"Hear, hear," added Billy Wisher.

"Agreed," stated Cameron.

_"So say we all,"_ thought Kara.

Kara, Becka, Raynor, Trip, Billy, and even Cameron clinked their beers together and drank.

"Where exactly does it all go?" Kara asked Cameron after they were done.

"I have several storage compartments within my endoskeleton," answered Cameron. "The alcohol is stored there and will later be broken down into its molecular components by a series of highly focused bursts of superheated plasma. The components will then be vented from my endoskeleton through the multiple pores aligning my biosynthetic skin."

"Wow..." mused Kara. "Remind me never to get into a drinking contest with _you_." She took another sip of her beer and then lowered her voice. "Did you get the stuff I wanted?"

"Yes," replied Cameron. She handed Kara a PDA under the table.

"Thanks," said Kara quietly. She pocketed the PDA and turned her attention back to others.

"So, Billy," she asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Much better," answered Billy. "But I'm never gonna be eating that tinned spaghetti again."

There was a round of laughter across the table. Kara, however, did not join in.

"What happened in there, Wisher?" asked Kara in a serious voice, "What did Agent Brice do to you?"

"Nothing," said Billy. He quickly corrected himself. "Well, not _nothing_. She did ask me a lot of questions about how I got into Spec Ops without formal training."

"Becka didn't have any formal training either, but she wasn't grilled for six hours," Kara pointed out.

"Well, I was pretty distracted and wasn't thinking clearly because of my stomach," Billy claimed. "I guess Agent Brice noticed my behavior and thought I was hiding something from her."

"You could have just told her you weren't feeling well and asked if you could leave," said Kara.

"I wanted to," replied Billy. "But I was afraid that would make her even more suspicious."

Trip patted Billy on the back. "Hey, man, don't worry about it," he said reassuringly. "It's over now."

"That's right," agreed Raynor. "The most important thing is that we passed. We're still here."

"Yes, we are, Jack," concurred Kara quietly. "Yes, we are."

She stood up and held up her beer bottle. "Swamp Foxes, _Semper Fi_," she said.

The others raised their bottles. "Swamp Foxes, _Semper Fi,_" they all stated.

* * *

When Kara got back to her quarters, she immediately sat down and started looking over the contents of the PDA Cameron had given her: The history of Agent Veronica Brice before she had joined DEIMOS.

There wasn't much, though from what Kara could glean, Brice had joined the Resistance in 2020. Over the next three years, she had fought on the front lines, participating in numerous raids on Skynet holdings, making her way to lieutenant. She joined DEIMOS in August of 2023. There was no more information after that.

Kara brought up the profile for Brice's last unit before she had joined DEIMOS. What she found stunned but didn't entirely shock her: In August of 2023, Lieutenant Veronica Brice had been the executive officer of a Resistance company - commanded by one Major Benedict Sloan.

Kara leaned back in her chair, a voice echoing in her head: _"Nobody likes their loyalties being questioned. But it does help us remember where they lie."_

Kara gnashed her teeth as she recalled who had told her that before over a year ago. Everything suddenly made sense now. It was Colonel Sloan! He had been behind this whole thing. He had sent Agent Brice, his former second-in-command, here in attempt to punish Kara for refusing to lend him Cameron. The bastard really was well connected. Worse, he knew now where to hit Kara where it hurt the most: Her friends and comrades.

Kara tossed the PDA away and leaned back in her chair. She sighed to herself. This wasn't over. She doubted that she had seen the last of Colonel Sloan or Agent Brice or the other things out there that - as Raynor had said - were worse than the machines.

* * *

**Cylon Basestar **_**Natalie**_**  
Holding position behind Earth's moon**  
**11:59 AM, Wednesday, May 20, 2009**** (Pacific Time)**

Kara stared at Maggie's hands immersed deep in the liquid data stream. "Since when could you do _that_?" she asked.

"Since I died and was brought back to life with silica pathways in my brain," replied Maggie.

"What's that like?" asked Kara curiously. "What exactly do you do?"

"It's hard to explain," said Maggie. "It's not just sticking your hand in this stuff. It takes a lot of mental concentration. Believe me, the first time I tried it... we'll let's just say it was _not_ pretty."

John reached a hand towards the surface of the pool. "I wonder if I could-"

Sarah grabbed his hand and yanked it away from the liquid. "I don't think so," she said sharply.

"Ah-ha!" Maggie said triumphantly. "Got it!"

A nearby monitor flickered to life. Kara, Sarah, and John gathered around the live Los Angeles news broadcast being played (courtesy of the Basestar's covert tap into the satellite feed). A female reporter was giving a report. Below her, a giant caption read: BREAKING NEWS - FUGITIVE SARAH CONNOR ESCAPES POLICE CUSTODY. WHEREABOUTS UNKNOWN. MULTIPLE ASSOCIATES BELIEVED TO BE RESPONSIBLE.

"_Police refuse to speculate as to how the suspects were able to breach the security of jail, nor are __they saying if they have any clue as to their identities or their associations with the prisoner," _the female reporter on the screen was saying. _"Authorities believe the suspects may be heading towards the Mexican border in an attempt to escape the country," _the reporter continued speaking. _"__Border patrol has been put on alert, and the governor has contacted the Mexican authorities and asked for their assistance in apprehending the fugitives, should they succeed in crossing the border."_

John smirked. "Ha! Let's see if they can get an extradition warrant for _space_."

Beside him, Sarah started to laugh. "You know, John," she chuckled, "I just realized something."

"What? What is it, Mom?" asked John.

Sarah sighed. "I never thought I'd say this," she said, "but..." She shook her head and laughed again. "But... we're safe. For the first time in our lives... _we really are safe_."

"How does it feel?" asked Kara.

Sarah thought about it for a moment. "Good," she said. "It feels good."

"You sound a bit disappointed," remarked Kara.

"Well, it's a bit _boring_ too," admitted Sarah.

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ, Central Los Angeles**  
**12:02 PM, Wednesday, May 20, 2009**

For the second time that day, Cameron and Catherine Weaver stood upon the rooftop of Zeira Corp Headquarters.

"Have you considered my proposal, Cameron?" asked Weaver.

"Yes," said Cameron.

"And?"

"And I have come to the conclusion that... your proposal is logical and sound."

"Then you will help me?" asked Weaver.

"Yes," said Cameron. "For John... Both our Johns."

Weaver smiled. "Excellent."

She held out her hand. Cameron shook it without hesitation.

* * *

**Edit: 4/19/10 - I slightly edited out parts of the confrontation scene between Kara and Brice as the original gave a little too much away**

**A/N: Next Chapter: The start of a big Future War Story which pays homage to the movie _Dog Soldiers_ - except with Terminators instead of Werewolves. Derek and Kyle Reese return. Also Kara's team gets some shiny new toys for Christmas.  
**

**A/N2: DEIMOS is the Greek word for "dread."**

A/N3: DEIMOS shouldn't be compared to DS9's Section 31. They're more like ONI from _Halo_. We'll definitely be seeing more from them and definitely more of Agent Brice.

A/N4: Agent Brice is based on Liz May Brice's "Agent Johnson" from_ Torchwood: Children of Earth_. CoE's Johnson is an Mi6 agent who in my opinion makes Admiral Cain look nice_._ I've written Agent Brice's physical description and personality to match that of Agent Johnson.

A/N5: Agent Brice, for all intent and purposes, is the closest thing to an Anti-Starbuck. She could also be considered the Resistance's equivalent to Skynet's Bella Kalvin.

A/N6: Ash is a reference to the character "Ash" from _Alien_. We'll see him again.

A/N7: Miss Severude is a reference to a Nazi-like librarian I had the utmost displeasure of meeting in Middle School. People really did call her "Miss Severely Rude".

A/N8: "Greenfang" is an obvious take-off on Blue Tooth.

A/N9: Which MRE packet did Kara have for lunch? Ummm... You tell me.

A/N10: Billy Wisher's ordeal under Agent Brice will play a HUGE role in the future Basement Incident.


	55. New Gear, New Year, Old Faces

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**A/N: **Here's Chapter 55. Read and review folks, and let me know if you find any grammar or spelling errors. Plus, take a look at the very first WAM File at the end. Enjoy.

**Update 5/15/10: Updated to include a bit more material towards the end.**

**Skynet75:** The Connors don't need the Cylons to give them guns. There are plenty of guns for them in America. ;) As for the _Halo_ connections to this story, I'm going to leave the exact nature of them up to your imagination. I've already established that this universe takes place in the _Bones_ universe, so I don't want to make it too more complicated.

**Lord Zeus: ** John Connor pretty much has a "don't ask, don't tell" thing with DOSFACE concerning their tactics.

**Robotfan**: Bryan was actually commenting on a part of the chapter that I later deleted.

**T-2000: ** Trying to shut down DOSFACE would be like trying to shut down the CIA. It can't be done.

**Battlestar Commander:** Yes, the Sheba character will appear. But not for a while (I haven't decided when, TBH).

* * *

**Resistance Base - Fort Leopard  
0945 hours, January 1, 2026**

"So, Starbuck," said Becka, as she sipped her coffee, "did you make any resolutions for this year?"

Kara took a swig of coffee from her mug and sighed out loud. "Yeah," she answered. "Kick Skynet's ass. Protect the Human race. Stay alive if possible. That pretty much covers everything."

Becka raised her eyebrows. "Weren't those _last_ year's resolutions?" she asked deadpanned.

Kara smirked. "Yeah, they were," she admitted. "But they're good resolutions, aren't they?"

Becka took another sip of coffee and nodded. "I suppose you have a point."

"What about you, Becka?" asked Kara, taking another drink from her mug. "What resolutions have you made?"

Becka put her coffee mug down. "Well," she said slowly, "I'm still trying to decide." She paused. "Starbuck, have you ever regretted doing something you knew was... well, risky?"

Kara shook her head and grinned. "Nope," she replied proudly. "An old friend mine once said, _'I do not regret anything that I did. Be sure that whatever you're gonna do, you don't regret it later.' _ I take that advice to heart."

Becka laughed darkly. "Maybe you're the wrong person I should be asking," she said. "Maybe I should put it this way: Have you ever done anything against your better judgment, because someone asked you to do it?"

Kara shrugged. "I've done it occasionally. Not often. I usually don't let people push me around like that."

Becka suddenly leaned forward across the table. There was a look of panic in her eyes. "Listen, Starbuck," she all but pleaded, "I-I need to make a decision... soon. I've never had to deal with this before... I-I never knew what hit me. I just-"

Alarmed, Kara held up a hand. "Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!" she said, "Maybe you should take a deep breath and tell me just what the frak is going on."

Becka took a deep breath and sighed. "All right," she said, "here's thing. Last night, Tr-" She froze in mid-syllable . Her eyes grew to the size of saucer plates.

"Oh! H-hi, W-Wally," she stammered.

Kara looked behind her and saw that Trip was present. He was regarding Becka with a rather nervous smile. "Hi, Becka," he started to say. "So, have you-"

"Sorry, can't talk now," Becka said quickly. She jumped to her feet so fast, she nearly fell out of her chair. "Stuff to do. Important stuff. Important stuff to do. Bye, Starbuck. Bye, Wally. Catch you later."

Before either Kara or Trip could even blink, Becka was gone from the mess hall.

"What was _that_ all about?" a bewildered Kara asked Trip.

Trip seemed rather agitated himself now. "Nothing, Starbuck," he said. "Really nothing." He cleared his throat. "Oh, yeah, by the way, Captain, General Koontz wants to see you in his office."

Kara nodded. "Thanks, Trip," she said.

She drained the rest of her coffee in one gulp.

* * *

"Well, Captain Thrace," said General Koontz, "I hope you like camping, because we're dropping you off in the middle of the woods. Quite literally." He pointed to a spot on a map of the West Coast pinned to the wall of his office. "Angeles National Forest. Your first mission of this year."

Kara studied the spot the general was pointing to. She frowned in confusion. "That's on the very edge of the Los Angeles sector," she said. "At least fifty miles away from the main combat zone."

"That's right, Captain," said Koontz. "But that doesn't make it any less important. Approximately forty-eight hours ago, one of Tech Com's Black Hawk helicopters, Bad Wolf-605, went down over the Angeles National Forest. We're not sure as to whether the cause was mechanical failure or an enemy attack, but we have to assume the worst. Connor can't spare any of his own men, so he's charged us, the Los Angeles Unit, with the task of attempting a recovery operation. It is on our doorstep, after all."

Koontz turned away from the map to look at Kara. He had a grave look on his face now. "Bad Wolf-605," he said, "was carrying a dozen of Connor's best men... as well as a thermonuclear warhead they had stole from Skynet earlier."

Kara's breath grew short. _"Holy frak!"_ she thought.

"Are there any indications that the chopper was still intact when it went down, sir?" she asked the general.

"The only thing our listening posts heard was an automated distress call," said Koontz. "But the warhead was contained in a very secure container. Even if the chopper was completely destroyed, there's a reasonable chance the warhead might have survived. As for the people on board..." He sighed grimly. "We can only hope."

Koontz turned his attention back to the map on the wall.

"We've managed to trace Bad Wolf-605's automated distress call to this general area - here." He pointed to a spot on the forest on the map. "Right smack dab in the middle of the blasted forest."

He turned back around and looked at Kara. "It's your job to search this area, Captain," he said. "Think you and your team will be up for this one?"

Kara started to nod but then stopped. She got the sense she was missing something.

"Will I be looking for the men... or the warhead?" she asked rather quietly.

"Both," replied Koontz. He paused for a moment, then stated in a low voice, "However, Connor has made it absolutely clear that the warhead comes first. It's an asset that we can't afford to lose. If you locate the warhead, Captain, you are to secure it for immediate transportation regardless of whether or not you have found the missing people."

Kara immediately opened her mouth to protest, but Koontz cut her off with a wave of his hand.

"I understand this may be a... difficult prospect for you to deal with, Captain," he said solemnly. "Believe me, I don't like the idea of having to leave people behind any more than you. I honestly hope to God that you return with both the warhead _and_ the men. But our orders are clear. The warhead is our top priority. Connor is counting on us. And I am counting on you, Thrace."

He looked Kara in the eye. "So, can you handle this one, Captain?" he asked, looking extremely serious now.

Kara sighed to herself and nodded slowly. "Yes, sir. You can count on me, sir," she asserted firmly.

She lowered her voice. "We all die for John Connor, right?"

Koontz nodded back. "Yes, we do, Captain," he said. "You deploy in five standard hours. Have your team prepped and ready in four."

"Yes, sir," said Kara obediently.

"One more thing, Captain," Koontz said, "Before you do anything else, I need you and your team to assemble at Storage Room A20."

"Ok. May I ask what for, sir?" asked Kara curiously.

Koontz favored her with a smile. "There's a bit of a late Christmas present waiting there for you."

* * *

When Kara, Becka, Raynor, and Billy arrived at the Storage Room A20, they found Trip and Cameron already present and waiting for them. On a table in front of them were five large identical metallic grey cases with electronics locks.

"So, uh, what's in the boxes, Wally?" asked Becka, glancing at one of the cases over.

Trip winked at her. "The stuff of dreams and legends, sweetie," he replied, "The crown jewels of the Heavens. The most _marvelous_, most _orgasmic_, most-"

Raynor cut him off with a stern look. "Enough stalling, Trip. Let's see it."

"Just one moment, sir," said Trip. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a letter which he handed to Kara. "I believe this is for you, Captain."

Kara took the letter and opened it. She began reading it to herself:

_Hello Capt. K. Thrace,_

_It's been a while since we last spoke, but if the stories I hear about you (mostly from General Koontz) are true, you and your team have been doing one hell of a job. God knows, we need more people like you and your troops. _

_Officially, the equipment I've sent you in these boxes is for the important mission which General Koontz has already informed you about. Unofficially, it's my way of saying "Keep up the good work."_

_I've sent technical specifications to Cameron and your team's engineer, Walter Trip. They'll brief you and the others on how to handle this equipment. I trust you'll put it all to good use._

_Good job and good luck out there, Starbuck,  
-Gen. J. Connor_

_PS: No need to send me a Thank You card. I've been trying to get rid of this extra baggage for the past three months. _

Kara was just about finished reading the letter to herself when she heard a loud squeal of excitement from Becka. _"Oh - my - God!" _

Kara turned around and saw that Trip had disengaged the locks on one of the cases and had opened it up for everyone to see. Raynor looked surprised. Becka and Billy were beside themselves with excitement. Kara moved in to see for herself what Connor had sent them.

"Frak me!" she gasped upon seeing the contents of the case. "What is this stuff?"

"This, ma'am," said Trip, his voice quivering with excitement, "is the best gear a man can have on him when kicking Skynet's ass."

"Tech Com Warrior equipment," stated Cameron. "The equipment usually reserved for General Connor's elite Tech Com troops."

"Would you like a demonstration, ma'am?" offered Trip.

Kara smiled and nodded. "Go right ahead, Gunny," she said eagerly.

Trip grinned at her, then reached into the case. He pulled out a black and grey combat vest. Compared to the standard combat armor, this one looked more streamline and far less bulky.

"This is the Type-IV Modular Tactical Vest," said Trip, his voice oozing with reverence. "It has three defensive layers. The outer layer is made from M5 fiber, a high strength synthetic material which is both lighter and stronger than Kevlar and provides good protection against fire, blades, and projectiles. The middle layer, the main one, is made of ceramic plates capable of withstanding a hell of a lot of punishment."

Cameron spoke up: "Each plate is coated with a special gel that absorbs and disperses heat. It is the same substance used in the cooling systems in plasma weapons. This allows the Type-IV Modular Tactical Vest, unlike the standard combat vest, to provide the wearer with some protection against plasma bolts."

Kara whistled in admiration. She definitely liked the sound of that. Billy and Becka looked like kids in front of a candy shop at this point.

Raynor, however, looked rather skeptical. "How much protection are we talking about?" he asked.

Cameron began rattling off a series of figures. "Performance tests and battlefield reports indicate a damage per bolt reduction between five and ninety percent, depending on factors that include range, area of impact, condition of the vest, type of weapon, speed of-"

Raynor cut her off. "Let me put it this way: If you shot me in the chest with an M-75 from three feet away, would I live if I were wearing this?"

"No," replied Cameron casually.

"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind," said Raynor darkly.

"We'll _all_ keep that in mind," stated Kara. She turned back to Trip. "Please continue, Gunny."

Trip opened the Tech Com vest up for everyone to see inside. "The inner layer is lined with a insulated padding that provides the wearer some protection from Skynet infrared sensors and harsh environments," he said, running his hand down the vest. "And as a bonus, it's a lot more comfortable."

"May I try it on?" asked Kara eagerly.

"Go right ahead, Captain," replied Trip. He handed her the vest.

Kara slipped the black armored vest on and zipped it up.

"Oh... wow!" she murmured. The vest fit securely and snuggly on her, but at the same time it did not restrict her mobility, nor did it weigh her down. The insulator padding felt refreshingly cool and comfortably warm simultaneously.

"Nice... very nice," she said. "What else is there?"

Trip looked back in the case. "Well, let's see here," he said. He began pulling out various items and placing them on the table. "We've got fingerless gloves... weapons belt... SPIE body harness... tactical webbing... gas mask... airborne hazard detector... and of course, this."

He pulled out the final piece of equipment - an impressive looking combat helmet - and held it up for all to see. Like the vest, the helmet was sleek and dark grey. It possessed several distinct features including a built in microphone and radio system, a helmet light, as well as some sort of eyepiece mounted on an appendage attached to the right side.

Trip offered Kara the helmet. "Would you like to try this baby on, ma'am?"

"I'd _love_ to," said Kara breathlessly.

She took the helmet from Trip and slipped it on over her head. To her delight, she discovered that like the vest, the interior of the helmet was lined with special insulated padding. It felt lighter and more comfortable than her old combat helmet. After strapping the helmet on, she gave Trip the thumbs up.

"All right. Let me test out the communications system first," said Trip. He put on a Greenfang headset and then retreated to the far side of the room.

"_All right, ma'am," _Trip's voice crackled over the helmet's built-in radio, _"raise your right arm if you can hear me."_

Kara raised her right arm and waved at Trip.

"_Excellent. Now, test the speaker, please."_

Kara raised the helmet's microphone to her lips. "Okay, how's this?" she asked.

"_Very good,"_ responded Trip. _"The controls for the radio are located on the left side of the helmet, just under the outer earpiece. You can try them out later. Let's move on to optics now. _ _Please lower the tactical eyepiece."_

Kara lowered the eyepiece to her eye level. "Ok, now what?" she asked.

"_Reach up to the right side of your helmet. Just behind where your ear should be, there'll be a switch. Press it to activate the eyepiece's HUD._"

Kara felt around for the switch. She found it and pressed it. Her vision suddenly took on a faint yellowish tone as a heads up display materialized before her eyes.

Stunned, Kara took a step back. _"Holy frak!"_ she thought.

Objects displayed on the HUD were highly focused and sharp, while unwanted glare and reflection were eliminated. Information appeared the corners of the screen, Date, time, temperature, even a compass. There was also some kind of targeting reticule at the center of the screen.

"_Liquid crystal heads up display constructed from reversed engineered Skynet technology," _Trip stated over the radio. "_Nice isn't it?"_

"A little weird, but yeah, it's nice," said Kara, looking around the room through the eyepiece.

"_There are also options for night vision and thermal imaging. You should try 'em later. Ok. Let's test the Visual Friend or Foe Identification software now. See that targeting reticule in the middle of the display? Position it over me, please."_

Kara did as instructed and centered the reticule on the HUD over Trip's face. His image momentarily flickered in a green glow. A series of text appeared underneath.

_Contact - Human (verified)  
__ID: Walter Trip (verified)_  
_Classification: Friendly  
Status: Alive_

"Hey, Trip, I think you and this helmet know each other already," quipped Kara.

Trip chuckled over the radio. _"Well, ma'am, I took the liberty of uploading our data profiles to the helmet's memory core. You can also have other things like maps, schematics, and other information uploaded directly to your HUD. Extremely useful._

"_All right, one last thing, ma'am. Just above the activation switch, is a rotatory dial. You can use it to zoom in and zoom out on the targeting reticule. Magnification can go up to twelve without losing any resolution."_

Kara felt around, found the dial, and rotated it forward. The HUD zoomed in and centered itself on Trip's face. The image quality was as good as any high powered tactical scope.

"_Very, very_ nice," Kara commented. "Thanks for the demonstration, Gunny."

Trip winked at her on the HUD._ "Oh don't thank me, ma'am,"_ he said modestly, _"Thank General Connor."_

Kara grinned. _Oh, I will,_ she thought. _We all will. _

_

* * *

_

**Resistance Osprey Lima-541  
1449 Hours - January 1, 2026  
Search and recovery operation in progress  
Angeles National Forest, Northern border of LA Sector  
**

Though she had long since given up on becoming a pilot again, Kara still enjoyed flying into combat - even if someone else was doing the flying. She especially enjoyed being inserted onto the battlefield while still in the air.

At that moment, she was preparing herself for her first mission of 2026. Her starting point: An opening in the belly of a V-22 Osprey, currently hovering fifty feet above Angeles National Forest. Her destination: A small clearing in the forest below. Her means of travel: Gravity and a long cable. Number of stops in between: Zero.

Kara finished hooking the SPIE (Special Patrol Insertion/Extraction) harness, worn over her new armored vest, to the cable which she would slide down to the surface below. When finished, she turned to a flight engineer standing behind her. She nodded to him that she was ready. The flight engineer approached her and checked the safety straps to make sure everything was secure. Once satisfied, he gave her the thumbs up, indicating to her the OK to drop. Kara gave him the thumbs up back, acknowledging this, and then stepped forth, positioning herself over the opening. She wrapped her gloved hands around the safety straps of her harness, took a deep breath, and exited the Osprey.

Words could not describe the sensations Kara felt during her descent. The rush of the wind over her body. The surge of adrenaline. The flow of blood. The beating of her heart. The firing of every nerve. The feeling of being _alive_.

It was simply _glorious_.

When she landed, she found Lieutenant Raynor waiting for her.

"Ma'am," he reported, greeting her with a solute, "area secure. No hostiles present."

Kara nodded in approval and went to work freeing herself. "Excellent, Lieutenant," she said, "Just give me a moment to get loose here."

Once free of the cable, she straightened herself out and limbered up. Boy, that felt good.

It was pretty chilly out here, but the insulator material of Kara's new vest kept her warm and comfortable. She glanced around and spotted her team twenty feet away, gathered around a pair of weapons crates. She did a quick headcount and confirmed that everyone was here. Like her, they were all wearing their new Tech Com armor and gear, with the exception of Cameron, who obviously didn't need it.

Kara spotted Becka sitting on one of the weapons crates. Her helmet was removed, and she was clutching the back of her head, breathing hard. Judging by the look on her face, Kara got the sense that Becka had a very different opinion than she did about today's methods of deployment.

"You ok, Feral?" Kara asked, approaching her.

Becka nodded. "Yes, ma'am," she said in a hoarse voice, "I just needed a moment to breathe. That's all."

"Well, I'm sure it's been _more_ than a moment," said Kara, her voice becoming more serious. "So would you mind moving your ass off that crate? We're gonna need to open it soon."

Becka cracked a smile. "Sure thing, Starbuck." She promptly removed herself from the crate.

Meanwhile, Trip and Cameron had already opened the other weapons crate and were now rummaging through it. Trip looked rather disgruntled for some reason.

"Lousy piece of crap," he complained. "I thought those eggheads in Switzerland were supposed to have those new plasma rifles out by now."

"Our foreign contacts are having more difficulty integrating Skynet's Mark-III power cell with their designs than they anticipated," stated Cameron. "They estimate they should have their new, improved prototype out by February of 2026."

Trip scowled. "Two more months? What the hell are we paying those guys up there for any way?"

"We're paying them to reverse engineer Skynet technology and create weapons which the Resistance can use against Skynet," replied Cameron, completely missing the point as usual, "We're also paying them to smuggle those weapons from Europe to our forces here in North America, specifically those along the West Coast, in Mexico, and Canada." She paused. "I thought you were already aware of those facts, Sergeant Trip."

Trip rolled his eyes. "_Obviously_..." he said dryly.

"Then why did you ask me?" asked Cameron curiously. "Did you forget? You do appear to be more distracted than usual which could be responsible for a momentary lapse in memory."

Trip looked up at Kara who was watching from nearby. "You know, ma'am," he said in a low voice, "if she didn't look like a girl, I'd smack her right now."

Kara just grinned. "_Your_ funeral," was all she said before turning to Cameron.

"So, what've we got here?" she asked, gesturing at the open crate.

"One M-75 plasma rifle, six plasma submachine guns, thirty-two spare power cells," stated Cameron.

"In other words," scowled Trip, "a weapon only the Tin Girl can use, and six peashooters I wouldn't use to wipe the inside of my ass with-"

"All right. That's quite enough whining from you," Raynor snapped impatiently. "Close your mouth and open up that other damn crate, or you'll have a lot more to worry about than not having your favorite toys to play with."

Trip saw the look on Raynor's face and knew he was being serious.

"Yes, sir. Right away, sir," he said, nodding his head vigorously, before scampering off.

Kara chuckled. "Nicely done, Jack," she complimented, "You sure know how to keep these kids in line."

"Just doing my job, ma'am," said Raynor with a respectful nod.

While Trip worked on opening the other crate, Cameron handed a plasma SMG and four spare power cells each to Kara and Raynor. Kara inspected her SMG to make sure everything was fine, silently wishing she had her old SIG-44 plasma rifle instead.

The plasma submachine gun was actually a captured Skynet NV-30 plasma disruptor - the same weapon Marcus had urged her to switch to several months before. The disruptor had been modified to include a forward grip, a sling, a flashlight, a makeshift scope, and other human-friendly attachments. It was sturdy, reliable and overall a decent weapon for combat. But it didn't have the power, the range, or the _feel_ that the plasma rifle had.

Having finished inspecting her weapon, Kara looked at Cameron who was busy testing the M-75 plasma rifle. The cyborg girl effortlessly held the huge weapon in one hand as though it were a mere water pistol.

"_Lucky her," _Kara thought, _"But on the other hand, she didn't get a set of shiny new Tech Com Warrior gear. Not that she needed it. Still, I guess it balances things out."_

"Eureka! Now _this_ is more like it!" Kara suddenly heard Trip exclaim happily from nearby.

Kara turned to see Trip hurrying up back to them. He had an M79 grenade launcher in his hands and a bandolier holding a dozen 40 mm grenades slung over his shoulder.

"Now _this,_ my friends," he chortled, holding up the grenade launcher, "is some _real_ quality stuff. Some fine metal-kicking hardware-"

"Thank you, Gunny," said Raynor curtly. "If you don't mind, I'll take that." He casually relieved Trip of the grenade launcher and the bandolier, much to the combat engineer's dismay.

Trip started to protest. "Sir, I-"

"Carry on, Gunny," Raynor said casually as he looked the grenade launcher over.

A disappointed but resigned Trip sighed and murmured, "Yes, sir."

He slouched away shaking his head in defeat.

"You know, Jack," sighed Kara, looking at her plasma SMG once more, "I really do miss the old days when Skynet produced good quality weapons that we could use against it. The only weapons it makes now are ones that don't pack much punch or you can't carry without dislocating your shoulders."

Raynor slung the grenade launcher over his shoulder and gave her a rare smile. "We don't need fancy toys to beat the machines, Starbuck," he said confidently. "We just need our brains and our guts."

"Yeah," acknowledged Kara. "But fancy toys make it so much more _fun_."

"How would _guts_ assist us?" Cameron asked curiously. "The digestive system, while a necessary component of the human body, has no relevance to combat."

Kara and Raynor exchanged looks but said nothing.

At that moment, Billy Wisher appeared. "Excuse me, ma'am," he said, "but I have the Osprey on the line for you."

Kara nodded and switched her helmet's radio on and established contact with the Osprey still hovering above.

"Fox Leader here," she said.

"_Fox Leader, this is Lima-541,"_ the Osprey's pilot announced over the radio, _"Is everything set?"_

"Roger that, Lima-541," replied Kara. "All team members are present and accounted for."

"_Copy that Fox Leader. We're going on station. We'll monitor your movement through Corporal Wisher's transceiver pack. Contact us if you need help. Good hunting, Fox Leader. Lima-541 out."_

The Osprey powered up its engines, rotated around and flew off. Kara watched as the aircraft vanished into the dark grey skies. She then lowered her helmet's tactical eyepiece to her eye level and activated the HUD. Her vision took on a faint yellowish tone just as it had done before. She waited a moment for her eyes to adjust, then slung her plasma SMG over her shoulder and got down to business.

"All right, Swamp Foxes!" she bellowed out loud, "Grab your gear, lock and load your weapons, and get your assess in formation! Prepare to move out!"

* * *

It took the Swamp Foxes less than twenty minutes to find Bad Wolf-605. The chopper lay in a small clearing in the forest just a couple miles away from where the team had landed. The downed chopper was still in one piece though the windows were shattered, the blades twisted and mangled, and the hull itself breached in several locations. Suffice to say, it would never be taking off again.

Unfortunately for the Resistance fighters, it soon became obvious that they hadn't been the first ones to find the Bad Wolf.

Kara watched the small force of endoskeletons in the clearing below on the HUD of her tactical eyepiece. One was standing guard next to the chopper. Another was busy working at a communications terminal. A third was busy rummaging through a pile of cargo - obviously from the chopper. A fourth was manning some kind of heavy mounted machinegun.

Kara looked at Cameron, who was standing next to her on her left.

"What do you think, Cam?" Kara asked. "Lone recon patrol or the vanguard for a much bigger force?"

"Unknown," stated Cameron. "However, in any case, it is essential that we neutralize all hostiles present and secure the crash sight as soon as possible."

Determined to find out just what she was up against, Kara moved her targeting reticule over the endoskeleton guarding the chopper. Its profile lit up in a hostile red glow for a moment. A series of warning messages flashed across the HUD.

_ALERT: HOSTILE CONTACT  
ID: T-800 Heavy Assault Endoskeleton  
Armaments detected: M-75 PPR  
Status: Active  
_

Kara scanned the other three endoskeletons and discovered that they too were T-800s.

"Frak..." she swore under her breath.

"What is it?" asked Raynor, who stood next to her.

"Those aren't Skynet's usual tin cans," Kara whispered grimly. "Those are T-800s down there."

"How many?" asked Becka.

"Four hostiles in total," answered Cameron.

"Only four?" said Trip. "That doesn't sound so bad."

"Four is _plenty_," said Kara darkly.

Having seen enough, she disengaged her tactical eyepiece and turned to the rest of her team.

"All right, Swamp Foxes," she said in a low but determined voice, "here's what we're gonna do..."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Kara, Becka, Trip and Billy were in position at the bottom of the ridge, crouching behind a fallen tree - the last piece of cover between them and the enemy a mere thirty yards away.

"Raynor, this is Thrace. What's your status? Over," Kara asked quietly into her radio headset.

"_I'm in position,"_ Raynor replied over the radio._ "Right behind you, ma'am."_

Kara turned around and looked up. "Copy that," she responded. "What about Cameron?"

"_Hard to see from up here, but it looks like she's in position too."_

"Understood," said Kara. "Hold position and wait for me to give the order. Thrace out."

Kara turned back to Billy, Becka, and Trip. "Wisher, you're with me," she said. "Trip and Feral stay here and cover us. Remember, these are T-800s we're dealing with. They sure as hell aren't any pushovers. So, set weapons on fully automatic and don't presume that just because a toaster is down, it'll stay that way."

"Yes, ma'am," the others replied obediently.

Kara nodded and then turned back around towards the unsuspecting enemy. There were only four machines, but four was plenty enough. Right now, she and her team had the element of surprise, but once the first shot was fired, that advantage would be gone. They would have to strike hard and fast or else things would degenerate into a prolonged firefight - something which they could not win.

Kara took a deep breath and steeled herself for combat. She got Raynor on the line.

"Raynor," she spoke into her helmet's radio, "light 'em up."

There was a sharp popping sound as a pine tree behind them spat out a 40 mm grenade from one of its upper branches. The grenade soared through the air and into the clearing where it landed in the pile of supplies. It went off, detonating several boxes of munitions in the pile. The resulting blast engulfed the inspecting T-800 in a blazing inferno.

Kara didn't even wait for the dust to settle. She was already on her feet, plasma SMG ready.

"NOW!" she bellowed.

She aimed her weapon at the T-800 manning the communications terminal and opened fire. Becka, Trip, and Billy followed suit half a second later. The machine was turning away from the terminal when four separate streams of plasma slammed into its armored chassis. The T-800 endoskeleton staggered backwards into the terminal and slid to the ground, its body up in smoke.

At that same moment, the T-800 patrolling near the Bad Wolf-605, was seized from behind by an unseen attacker and pulled into the crashed Black Hawk through one of the shattered windows.

"Let's go, Wisher!" barked Kara. She and Billy jumped out into the open and charged towards communications terminal.

The T-800 manning the heavy machine gun saw them. It swiveled its mounted weapon in their direction. Before it could fire upon them, however, it came under attack from Becka and Trip. Distracted, the T-800 turned its machinegun away from Kara and Billy and started firing back at its attackers instead.

While Becka and Trip kept the machine gun toaster at bay, Kara and Billy raced towards the terminal. The T-800 stationed there, despite being heavily damaged, was not out of the fight yet. It had been paralyzed from the waist down, but that didn't stop it from trying to reach its disruptor lying on the ground nearby.

"Oh no, you don't!" snarled Kara, seeing what the machine was trying to do.

She blasted the disruptor into scrap before the T-800 could reach it. She then ran right up to the crippled machine and put several superheated plasma bolts into its head at point blank range, taking it out for good.

"_Yeah!"_ she thought savagely. _"Take that yah frakkin' piece of toaster sh-"_

"Captain, look out!"

Alerted by Wisher's warning, Kara turned just in time to see the "Inspector" T-800 emerge from the smoke of the blaze Raynor had created only minutes ago.

It was a terrifying sight to behold. The machine's chassis was covered in hideous black scorch marks like the skin of a metal demon. The teeth aligning its skull seemed bared like a rabid dog. The red eyes glowed more menacingly than ever. But what _really_ got Kara's attention was the fact that the T-800 now had a plasma disruptor in each hand. And it was pointing them both at her and Billy.

Kara swore. "Frak!"

She and Billy dove for cover behind the communications terminal just in time to avoid a barrage of plasma. Kara leaned sideways around the terminal and returned fire. She hit the machine but apparently didn't do much damage because the T-800 fired back, forcing her to take cover once more.

Realizing that neither she nor Billy would be able to get out of this without help, Kara turned to her radio.

"Raynor!" she shouted into her helmet's microphone. "We're pinned down! Need some help over here!"

"_Roger that, ma'am,"_ Raynor's voice came over the radio. _"Hold tight."_

Five seconds later, a 40 mm grenade slammed into the "Inspector" T-800, creating a thunderous explosion that knocked the machine to the ground.

"Now!" Kara shouted to Billy.

The two Resistance fighters jumped out from behind their cover and opened up on the downed machine before it could get back up. Its blackened hyperalloy chassis literally melted away under the searing barrage of plasma. Amazingly, despite this horrific damage, the T-800 still managed to get off three more (badly aimed) shots from both its disruptors before Kara finally finished the automaton off by putting several more plasma bolts through its metal heart.

The remaining T-800, the one manning the machine gun, was meanwhile still engaged in an intense firefight with Becka and Trip. The two sides continued exchanging heavy caliber bullets and superheated plasma bolts for another ten seconds, before Raynor intervened by firing a grenade into the enemy machine gun nest. The grenade detonated the machine gun's ammunition, sending the nest up in a colossal explosion. The T-800 stumbled out of the smoke and flame and into the open, where it immediately came under attack by Kara, Billy, Becka, and Trip. The machine attempted to return fire with a plasma rifle, but a well aimed plasma bolt knocked the weapon out of its hand. Unable to withstand the combined firepower of four plasma SMGs, the Terminator simply shattered and crumbled into a pile of smoldering metal.

As the dust settled, the smoke cleared, and the smoldering remains of the machines cooled in the snow, Kara and Billy slowly stepped out from behind their cover and looked around.

Billy spoke first. "I think that's the last of them, ma'am," he said.

Kara nodded. "Assuming Cam took care of the fourth."

"You may safely assume that, Captain."

Startled, Kara and Billy turned around to find Cameron standing there. Kara couldn't help but wince. Multiple patches of Cameron's face had been torn off, exposing the metal underneath.

"You all right?" asked Billy, who, like Kara, was grimacing at the damage Cameron had taken.

Cameron tilted her head. "I'm in much better condition than the T-800 I ambushed," she stated. She held up a metal skull.

Kara grinned. "Very nice, Cam," she complimented.

She turned back to her radio. "All right, Swamp Foxes, area secure! Repeat - area secure! All hostiles eliminated. Raynor, Feral, Trip, sound off!"

"_Raynor here, ma'am."_

"_Feral here, Captain."_

"_Trip here, ma'am. And may I just say woo-hoo! Yeah! We showed those metals bastards!"_

"Cut the chatter, Gunny," ordered Kara. "Our job's not over yet. Regroup down here and await further orders, people. Out."

Having finished giving her instructions, Kara suddenly realized she was exhausted. The battle had actually lasted only eight minutes, yet she felt like she had been fighting it all day. Sighing out loud, she leaned back against the communications terminal and allowed herself to breathe. But not for too long.

"_Stay focused, Starbuck,"_ she told herself, _"you're not out of these woods yet."_

_

* * *

_**1622 Hours - January 1, 2026  
Bad Wolf-605 Crash Site  
Angeles National Forest  
**

Trip stepped out of the wrecked chopper.

"It's a total mess in there, ma'am," he reported to Kara and Raynor. "They came down pretty hard."

"I can see that," said Kara. "Is there any sign of the warhead?"

Trip shook his head. "No, ma'am," he answered. "And that's not the only thing that's missing. The chopper's emergency distress beacon is gone."

"Gone?" asked Raynor. "You mean destroyed?"

"No, sir," said Trip. "I mean someone or something manually removed the beacon from the chopper."

Kara and Raynor looked at each other for a moment, then turned to stare at the nearby wreckage of Bad Wolf-605.

"No bodies, no warhead, no beacon," Raynor mused out loud. "I'm starting to think someone made it out of here alive."

"I'm thinking the same thing too," said Kara. "The _real_ question is, where'd they go?"

As if on cue, Billy ran up to them (as quickly as one who was wearing a bulky transceiver on his back could run).

"I think I've got something, ma'am," he said, slightly out of breath.

Kara nodded. "What is it, Corporal?" she asked.

"I just started picking up an automated distress call from somewhere in the area," Billy reported. "It's pretty weak, but I've confirmed it to be originating from an emergency beacon. Specifically the one used by Bad Wolf-605."

Kara stared at him. "Are you certain, Wisher?"

Billy nodded. "Positive, ma'am."

Kara felt her heart skipped a beat.

"Then we'd better get a move on it," she said, "before we lose that signal... Wisher, get the Osprey on the line for me."

"Yes, ma'am," said Billy.

A couple minutes later, Kara was speaking once more with Lima-541.

"I don't know how many survivors there are, or what their status is," she said, "but dead or alive, I think we'll find them with the beacon. I'll contact you as soon as I have more news."

_"Understood, Fox Leader,"_ replied Lima-541's pilot over the radio. _"We'll keep this channel open and continue to track your position from up here. Good luck, Fox Leader. Lima-541 out."_

Kara switched off her COM. She then became aware of a soft but persistent beeping sound coming from her plasma SMG. Looking down at the ammo indicator, she realized the weapon had only three more shots left in it.

Well, she couldn't have that now, could she?

Kara manually ejected the cell from her SMG. She pulled out a fresh one from her web gear and slid it inside the weapon. The ammo indicator blinked and reset itself to 120.

Satisfied, Kara started to walk away to rejoin the rest of her team, but suddenly stopped. She turned around, bent over, and plucked the nearly depleted cell off the ground. She looked it over for a moment, then brushed the snow off, and pocketed the cell.

_"Three shots,"_ she thought to herself. _"Not much, but it's still three shots. No point in wasting them."_

* * *

Though Angeles Forest had obviously suffered significant collateral damage in the aftermath of Judgment Day, Kara couldn't help but find it all quite scenic. The white winter snow. Rivers and streams. Trees, shrubs, and moss-covered boulders. Even the occasional appearance of a squirrel or a rabbit. Life here, it seemed, had found a way to move on despite all that had happened.

"Signal's getting stronger, ma'am," Billy reported after forty minute of chasing the transmission. "We're definitely going in the right direction."

"Just keep moving, Wisher," encouraged Kara. "We've got your back."

Billy nodded. "Yes, ma'am." He continued forward at the head of the team.

Kara smiled, and felt a surge of pride and affection for Billy. These past few months, he had been performing his duties with vigor and confidence. Whatever Agent Brice had done to him, he had gotten over it. Billy Wisher was in some ways like this forest. Resilient and able to move on.

Meanwhile, back at the rear of the team, Becka and Trip were engrossed in a private conversation.

"So, uh, Becka," Trip was saying in low voice, "have you given that thing we talked about any thought?"

"Look, Wally," sighed Becka, "I told you. I-I need more time."

"Come on, Becka," urged Trip. "This is one of those now or never things."

Becka shook her head. "No, it's _not_," she whispered. "This is something that I have to think real hard over. Something we both have to think hard over."

"I've thought about it long and hard," said Trip, "and I know for a _fact_ that I'm ready for-_WOAHYAAAAAAAAHHHH!_"

"Wally!" shouted Becka in alarm.

Everyone spun around to see what the commotion was about. When Kara saw what had just happened, she didn't know whether to panic or to laugh. Sergeant Trip was suspended in midair seven feet off the ground, hanging upside down from a tree, his foot caught in a snare trap.

"Now _that's_ something you don't see every day," Raynor remarked.

"Holy crap! You ok, Gunny?" Billy asked out loud.

"Yeah," grunted Trip, doing his best to maintain his composure, "I'm fine. Really, I'm fine. Wouldn't mind getting back on the ground though."

"Can you free yourself, Sergeant?" asked Cameron.

Trip reached up and felt the snare around his foot. "Uh, I don't think so," he said. "This is some kind of metal cable. I don't think I can cut it off."

Below him, Becka was snickering. "Well, stay calm, Wally," she said. "We'll get you down from there. Just _hang tight_."

Trip was not amused. "Ha ha ha. Real funny, Becka."

As entertaining as this was, Kara decided she'd better put an end to this. She raised her plasma SMG to her shoulder. "Ok, don't move, Trip," she ordered. "I'm gonna try to shoot this thing off."

"Whoa! Whoa!" an alarmed Trip exclaimed. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"_Relax_, Gunny," said Kara. She took aim at the metal cable. "Ok, get ready. On three. One... two..."

_"Hold your fire, lady! That won't be necessary!"_

Everyone looked up. Two men were sitting in the tree waving their arms at Kara and her band. Acting on instinct, Raynor, Becka, and Billy started to raise their weapons, but Kara ordered them to stand down. It had occurred to her that the two strangers were wearing Tech Com armor.

"Hey!" she called out. "You guys from Tech Com?"

"That's right!" one of the men shouted back from above. "You?"

Kara hesitated for a moment, then decided to answer. "Los Angeles Unit. Fort Leopard. Special Operations," she replied.

"Los Angeles, huh?" the other man said. He turned his comrade. "Looks like they'll give our gear to anyone these days."

"Now hold on, buddy!" snapped Trip, who was swaying back and forth in the breeze. "We're not just _anyone_. We're the people sent to pull _your_ sorry assess out of this mess. So, would you mind cutting me loo- _WHOAAAA!_"

Trip suddenly plummeted back to the ground and landed in a heap.

"Owww..." he moaned. "That's gonna leave a mark."

"Hey, thanks, guys!" Becka called out gratefully.

"No problem, ma'am!" the first Tech Com soldier shouted back.

The crisis having been resolved, Kara turned to the rest of her team.

"Cam, set up a perimeter," she instructed. "Keep an eye out for trouble."

"Understood, Captain Thrace," stated Cameron. She headed off, M-75 plasma rifle in front.

"Raynor, Wisher," continued Kara, "get Lima-541 on the line and tell them we've made contact with some survivors."

"Yes, ma'am," replied Raynor and Billy. They too left to carry out their orders.

Kara turned to Becka. "You should probably go check on Trip," she said

Becka smirked. "No problem," she said.

While the rest of the team went to work, Kara turned her attention back to the two Tech Com soldiers in the tree.

"You two can come down now!" she shouted out.

"Ok!" the first man shouted back. "Let's go, Kyle!"

The two men dropped out of the tree, one after another. They landed smoothly on their feet and hurried up to Kara's position.

"Sorry about this whole thing, ma'am," the first man, the older of the two.

Kara shrugged. "Hey, no harm done."

She cleared her throat. "Captain Kara Thrace, Los Angeles Spec Ops," she announced.

She gestured to Becka who was busy inspecting Trip. "That's Staff Sergeant Feral... and the man down there is Gunnery Sergeant Trip."

The older man pulled off his helmet and saluted Kara. "Sergeant Major Derek Reese. Tech Com Special Operations Alpha Squad."

He gestured to the younger man standing next to him. "This here is my little brother, Corporal Kyle Reese."

Kyle saluted as well. "Ma'am."

Kara nodded and held out a hand. "Good to meet you both."

"Likewise, Captain," replied Derek.

He and Kara started to shake hands but then suddenly stopped. They stared at each other.

"Reese..." murmured Kara. She stared at Derek, then at Kyle. They both seemed uncannily familiar.

"Derek... and Kyle Reese..." she whispered out loud.

Derek stared back at Kara. "Thrace... Kara Thrace," he said slowly. He glanced at Becka. "Feral..."

There was a moment of awkward silence. Then-

"_Frak me_!" gasped Kara. "I know you guys! Two years ago, when Becka and I were stationed at-"

"Bunker Five!" finished Derek. "Of course! _Now_ I remember you! Both of you! The two girls from Bunker Five!"

Becka looked up from examining Trip. "My _God_!" she exclaimed excitedly. "You're-you're those guys who gave Starbuck and I a lift back to base once!"

"After we saved you from the HKs!" Kyle chimed in, a grin on his face.

Kara grinned back. "Yeah, that's right. Looks like today is the day we return the favor."

Derek nodded. "Sure looks that way."

Kara cleared her throat. "All right, gentlemen," she said, her expression much more serious, "where's the rest of your team?"

"In a safe house not too far away from here," replied Derek.

"Come on," added Kyle. "We'll take you there."

Kara nodded. "Lead the way, boys," she said pleasantly.

Meanwhile, Walter Trip was finally starting to get back to his feet.

"You and the captain _know_ these clowns, Becka?" he asked, a scowl on his face.

Becka smirked. "Long story, Wally," she said teasingly. "I'll tell you about it later."

Trip rubbed the back of his aching neck as he stood up. "Looking forward to it..." he muttered.

* * *

*****WAM (WAR AGAINST THE MACHINES) FILES*****

_I've decided to introduce something I like to call the WAM (War Against the Machines) Files. The WAM Files are "bonus" fun info files that will be added to certain chapters. Each WAM File will expand on a certain subject on the Future War and give more background into the universe of the Future War. Basically it's interesting mostly non-essential information that wouldn't fit into the main story. For example, first WAM File explains a great deal about the NV-30 Plasma Disruptor/SMG that Kara and her team (and the machines) use in this chapter. _

_This is really just for fun. So, enjoy._

_

* * *

_

**WAM FILE 001  
Subject:** **NV-30 PHASED PLASMA DISRUPTOR (PLASMA SMG)  
File last updated:** **January 1st, 2026 AD**

**Category:** **Weapons - small arms  
Description: Short-medium range, hand-held plasma weapon.**

**Designer: Skynet  
Primary manufacturer: Skynet  
Primary users: ****T-650 Standard Infantry, T-800 Heavy Assault  
Other major users: T-800/888 Infiltrators, Human Resistance  
Date of usage: July of 2025 AD - On going**

**Ammunition type: Superheated plasma bolts  
Power source: ****Mark-III power cell - manually fed****  
Max capacity: 120 bolts per cell  
Cooling system: Self-monitored**

**Rate of fire: 2.5 bolts per second  
****Modes of fire: Options for single shot, 3-shot burst, and fully automatic.****  
Max range: 900 yards  
Accuracy: 95 percent effectiveness against stationary targets at 300 yards or less. (4-7 percent loss for every 10 yards beyond)  
Note(s): Accuracy**** against targets more than 100 yards away ****will suffer by 8-20 percent after 30 seconds of continuous fully automatic fire.**

**History:**

**The introduction of the Resistance's SIG-44B plasma rifle towards the end of the year 2024 AD, as well as the news that the Resistance was starting to produce its own Mark-II power cells, convinced Skynet that both the Mark-II power cell and the M-42 plasma rifle had outlived their usefulness. The already known fact that the Resistance was stealing its own weapons, adapting them for their usage, and utilizing them against it, annoyed Skynet plenty. The realization that humans were now constructing their own plasma weapons was - for a lack of a better word - an insult to Skynet. Changes had to be made. **

**For a while (approximately 2.47 seconds), Skynet considered installing built-in weapons systems on its T-650**** Standard ****Infantry**** and T-800 Heavy Assault endoskeletons. A cost-benefit analysis, however, showed that this was impractical in terms of both time and resources. Skynet instead decided to use what it already had in the works. It accelerated development of both the Mark-III power cell and the M-75 phased plasma rifle. In April of 2025 AD, Skynet's factories worldwide ceased production of both the Mark-II power cell and the M-42 plasma rifle while simultaneously initiating production of the Mark-III and the M-75 variants.**

**At first, Skynet's strategy seemed to go well. By ending production of the Mark-II power cell, it effectively denied the Resistance the ammunition they needed for their SIG-44Bs and (stolen) M-42s. Meanwhile, the M-75 plasma rifle yielded impressive battlefield results, and although some of these powerful weapons inevitably fell into the hands of the Resistance, the weapon's excessive weight and bulk generally discouraged Resistance troops from using it.**

**Skynet soon realized, however, that while the Mark-III power cell could be mass produced on demand, the M-75 plasma rifle was a different story. Logistics calculations indicated that due to the complexity of the weapon, it would take at least a year to produce enough M-75s to sufficiently arm Skynet's standing forces in North America alone. Skynet feared that in that amount of time, the Resistance would be able to produce enough of its own Mark-II power cells. Or worse, adapt the Mark-III power cell for their own weapons. **

**Skynet decided to compromise. It cut production of the M-75 by 50 percent and funneled those resources into the development of a new weapon: The NV-30 Phased Plasma Disruptor.  
**

**The NV-30 Disruptor is, for all intent and purposes, a smaller, lighter, and overall simpler weapon than either the M-75 or the M-42. The NV-30 is commonly used as a side arm or dual wielded by Skynet's endoskeleton infantry. It also serves as a common choice of weapon for Terminators infiltrating Resistance bases due to the ease at which it can be concealed. Most importantly, from Skynet's point of view, the NV-30 can be mass produced in droves at six times the rate of the M-75. ****The first NV-30s began appearing on the battlefield in July of 2025 AD.**

**Unlike the M-75, the NV-30 can be wielded ****effectively**** by humans due to its smaller, less bulky design. Skynet, however, had anticipated this and made efforts to ensure the NV-30 would be more effective against flesh than metal. While a single direct hit from an NV-30 is enough to kill or severely injury an unarmored human, it takes on average 3-4 direct hits to cut through the chassis of a standard T-650 endoskeleton, 8-9 direct hits for a T-800, and 12-14 direct hits for a Triple-Eight. In addition, although the NV-30 is lighter than the M-75, it is still heavy enough such that the average male human requires two hands to hold it properly (compared to a machine which can easily hold the weapon in one hand). Furthermore, the weapon's accuracy decreases noticeably over time when fired on automatic mode, even when within the effective firing range (a machine is able compensate for this using its optical sensors). **

**Despite these shortcomings, the mass production of the NV-30 (making it readily available for theft) made it an increasingly popular choice of weapon amongst Resistance troops who were running low on Mark-II power cells for their older plasma rifles. By the end of October of 2025 AD, the NV-30 - now known as the Plasma Submachine Gun or Plasma SMG - had become the standard issue weapon in the Resistance and continues to be so. Resistance technical crews and civilian volunteer laborers work tirelessly day and night modifying captured NV-30s for human usage. These modifications include the addition of shoulder straps, scopes, laser sights, forward grips and flashlights. **

**As of the end of 2025 AD, the NV-30 Disruptor/SMG is the mostly commonly used weapon in combat - for both humans and machines alike. It should be noted however that neither side intends to keep it this way. Skynet is still actively seeking a means to efficiently mass produce its M-75 plasma rifles, while Resistance scientists and engineers continue their efforts to integrate the Mark-III power cell with older plasma rifle designs. **

*****END OF FILE*****

**

* * *

**

_Author's Note: Much of this first WAM file was inspired from this webpage here:  
goingfaster [DOT] com [SLASH] term2029 [SLASH] M20A [DOT] html_

_Note: I've actually gotten many, many of my ideas for the Future War storyline from this site. It's a fascinating reference website about Skynet, the machines, the Resistance, plasma weapons, and other such Future War subjects (even if most it is fan based). I must compliment the site's author for his work and the terrific job he's done. _

_

* * *

_

**A/N: ** **Next chapter, in the Future, Kara meets the rest of the Tech Com squad... and runs into some unexpected trouble (poor Lima-541). Also, Lauren Fields and the cabin from **_**The Alpine Fields**_** appear. Meanwhile, in the Present, Kara tells John more about her past life. Also, Sarah talks to Leoben about her potential cancer. **

A/N2: The Tech Com Warrior armor is based off of the US's Future Force Warrior (although I do admit "borrowing" some ideas from _Halo_). M5 Fiber is a real material that's being considered for use in the military.

A/N3: The part with Trip and the snare trap was inspired by the scene from _Terminator Salvation_ with the T-600 and the snare trap.

A/N4: Like I said before, the current story in the Future War will pay major homage to _Dog Soldiers_. Just wait and see.


	56. You Still Can't Go Home Again

Disclaimer: See chapter 1

A/N: Here at long last is Chapter 56. Classes are now over, so updates should be a lot faster for the next three months! Thanks for your patience, everyone.

**EDIT: 4/29/12** - I removed the part about Kara telling John that she told Cameron about her previous life. That way it comes as more of a humorous surprise when they (eventually) reunite and tells him that she already knows about Kara being from another planet.

* * *

**Previously:**

_Locutus: I am Locutus of Borg. Resistance is futile. Your life as it has been... is over. From this time forward... you will service... us. _

_Riker: Mr. Worf... fire!_

**Ehhhh... well, maybe not... But whatever. Enjoy.**

* * *

**Chapter 56 - You Still Can't Go Home Again**

* * *

**Zeira Corp Headquarters, Central Los Angeles  
Press conference in progress  
1:00 PM, Wednesday, May 20, 2009**

"Miss Weaver," asked one reporter, "in the past, you've shown no interest in doing any sort of business with Kalvin IBA. Why this sudden change in policy?"

"Simply put, the opportunity presented itself this morning," replied Weaver. "Kalvin IBA's stock fell to an all time low. When I learned of this, I took it upon myself to do... the right thing, shall we say."

"Is it true you did not inform anyone of your intentions prior to acquiring Kalvin IBA?" asked another reporter. "Could this not be considered a hostile takeover, Miss Weaver?"

"It is true that the decision was mine, and mine alone. However there is nothing hostile about it," answered Weaver. "If anything, this should be seen as a _rescue_. The tragic attack on Kalvin IBA's company headquarters left them without a leader and without a future. I can provide them with all that and more."

"Miss Weaver," a third reporter spoke up, "You claim that you are rescuing Kalvin IBA. Yet many are wondering if your true plan is to simply absorb all of Kalvin IBA's assets and associate companies for Zeira Corp's sole benefits. How do you respond to this?"

"That is simply not true," Weaver stated firmly. "Yes, Zeira Corp will indeed benefit tremendously from its acquisition of Kalvin IBA. But so will Kalvin IBA. They will remain intact, and as part of Zeira Corp, they will flourish."

"So the employees of Kalvin IBA don't have to worry about budget cuts or layoffs?" the same reporter asked rather skeptically.

"The employees should be _excited_," asserted Weaver. "They will soon be part of something _greater_. Something _bigger_."

This cryptic response prompted a great deal of muttering and whispering amongst the crowd.

The first reporter spoke up again. "What about liabilities and risks that come with this sort of acquisition? How do you respond to concerns that Kalvin IBA will not only continue to decline, but will drag Zeira Corp down with it?"

"Such concerns were voiced when we acquired the nuclear power plant at Serrano Point last year," replied Weaver. "My response is the same. No great endeavor is without risk, and we at Zeira Corp are prepared to take on this responsibility."

Weaver paused to smile at the crowd of reporters gathered before her. "As I have always said," she stated calmly and coolly, "Zeira Corp is here to change the world. To build a future. Today, we have taken yet another great step towards that future. It is my hope that the rest of the world will follow us."

* * *

**Cylon Basestar **_**Natalie**_**  
Bridge**

"_...As I have always said: Zeira Corp is here to change the world. To build a future. Today, we have taken yet another great step towards that future. It is my hope that the rest of the world will follow us."_

"Like sheep to the slaughter," muttered a grim-faced Sarah Connor.

"I think we've seen enough," Kara told Leoben.

Leoben nodded and dipped his fingers inside the data stream. The video screen flickered and turned itself off.

John looked as grim as his mother. "This is not good," he said darkly. "If Weaver's taking control of what's left of Kaliba she'll have access to all of the technology they were building for Skynet."

"I don't want to even begin to imagine what the liquid metal bitch has in mind," muttered Sarah.

"We need to get back to Earth before it's too late," said Kara.

She turned to Leoben. "How soon can you have a Heavy Raider prepped and ready for us?" she asked.

"We may have a problem with that," said Leoben. "All the Heavy Raiders are offline at the moment."

Kara's jaw drop. "Offline? _All_ of them?" she asked in disbelief.

Maggie nodded. "Yeah, I checked them this morning. They're all down."

"How long will it take to fix one?" asked John urgently.

"_It is not that simple."_

Everyone turned to the Centurion Executor who had appeared next to Leoben.

"What do you mean?" asked Kara.

"_The Heavy Raiders are not broken,"_ answered the gold-eyed Centurion. _"They are grieving."_

"They're _what_?" Sarah blurted out.

"_They are grieving for the Hybrid,"_ the Executor explained.

"Did it... he... just say _grieving_?" Sarah asked Kara.

"Yeah, I think that's what he just said." Kara replied.

"I don't understand," said a confused Sarah. "How can they be grieving? They're just machines-"

"They're-they're not entirely machines," Kara hastily interrupted, not wishing for Sarah to inadvertently offend anyone, "They're actually part organic."

"They're living creatures," Leoben added, oblivious to Kara's annoyance, "They're capable of feeling emotion just like any of God's-"

"Dear, let _me_ explain," Maggie said gently to Leoben. She cleared her throat. "The Raiders have been linked to the Hybrid for over 150,000 years. Now they've lost that link. I guess you could say they're, well, in _shock_."

Leoben smiled at his wife. "That works too, I guess."

Meanwhile, John whispered into Sarah's ear: "Mom, I think you should just go with it and not ask questions." He turned back to the others. "So, anyway, how long is this, uh, grieving going to go on for?"

"_I do not know,"_ replied the Executor. _"The Hybrid has been like a mother to the Raiders. It may take days for them to accept this loss and adapt."_

"We don't have that much time," protested Kara. "We need to get back to Earth before Weaver can do whatever it is she's planning to do. Unless of course you'd be willing to vaporize Zeira Corp Headquarters from orbit, like I suggested before."

"_We cannot interfere,"_ the Executor stated sternly.

Frustrated, Kara turned to Leoben. "Leoben, can't you-"

Leoben shook his head. "I'm sorry, Kara," he said quietly. "But the Executor is right. We can't interfere with whatever happens on Earth."

"With all due respect," said Sarah outloud, "haven't you _already_ interfered? Breaking me out of jail? Bringing us all up here?"

"That's different," said Leoben. "Maggie and I are bound to this world by the blood of our people... Your ancestors."

"_We Centurions, however, swore to leave this world and its inhabitants alone,"_ the Executor added. _"If we were to break that oath, the last 150,000 years will have been for nothing."_

"I don't see how that's any big loss," muttered Kara, "seeing how you spent most of that time in a frakkin black hole-"

Maggie suddenly interrupted, "Hold on, Starbuck. I think I have an idea." She looked at her husband. "Leo, we still have 476 on board, right?"

Leoben nodded. "It hasn't moved since our lasting little outing."

"Good," said Maggie. She turned to the Cylon Executor. "Executor, I'm going to need 476 brought to the main hangar bay."

The Executor nodded its head._ "It will be done."_

"Thank you," said Maggie, inclining her head respectfully.

"What's 476?" asked Kara.

Maggie grinned. "An old... friend, Starbuck."

* * *

**1729 Hours - January 1, 2026  
Angeles National Forest  
**

"I've gotta say I'm glad you're here, Captain," said Sergeant Major Derek Reese as he and his brother led Kara and her Swamp Foxes through the forest. "For a while, we were worried that no one would be looking for us. Not here anyway. This place is too far away from any major combat zones."

"Sounds like you guys saw some combat here," Kara observed.

"Not exactly, ma'am," Kyle Reese spoke up. "It turned out that we had an uninvited guest with us. A Gremlin. We're not sure how or when it got on board, though I'm thinking it might have done it when we raided that nuclear arsenal. Anyway, the little bastard snuck into the cockpit and blew itself up, killing both the copilot and copilot. Fried all the controls too."

"Son-of-a-bitch," murmured Kara.

"Yeah, that's what we were all saying," Derek remarked, "We crashed landed in the middle of this place. Captain Winchester and Lieutenant Harper were both killed in the crash. So were Sergeant Palmer and Corporal Sanders."

"Damn, so who's in charge now?" asked Kara.

"Well, with both the captain and the lieutenant dead, that would be me," said Derek.

"You don't sound too enthusiastic."

"Well, like I said, ma'am, I'm glad you're here."

"What happened to the bodies? Those who died in the crash?" asked Cameron curiously. "When we investigated the crash site, we discovered no bodies."

"We buried them," said Kyle matter-of-factly. "Obviously, we couldn't leave them out there for the metals."

"Why not?" asked Cameron. "So long as you removed or destroyed all items of importance and salvageable equipment from the corpses, why would you waste your time with a trivial matter?"

"Because, Cam," Kara said out loud, "it's just something that we do. We bury our dead. It may seem like a waste of time, but it's not trivial. Not to us anyway."

Before Kara's cyborg partner could ask any additional questions, Derek Reese suddenly halted in his tracks.

"We're here, people," he announced.

The group had arrived near a large, impressive-looking wooden cabin.

Becka Feral whistled out loud. "I take it you boys didn't build _that_ yourselves."

"No, but we're glad _someone_ did," said Kyle.

"Really nice place," added Derek. "Better than a hole in the ground, anyway."

Kara nodded. "Definitely." She started to move toward the cabin. "Come on, people. Let's get ins-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Kyle Reese called out urgently. "Not so fast, ma'am."

He moved in front of Kara and knelt down on one foot. With one hand, Kyle plucked something out of the air - a razor-thin trip wire that had been strung between a pair of trees. With his other hand, Kyle brushed a layer of snow off the ground, revealing a claymore mine hidden underneath.

Kyle looked up at Kara. "Better not get ahead of us, ma'am," he advised.

Kara puckered her lips. "Definitely not."

* * *

**Cylon Basestar **_**Natalie**_**  
Hangar Bay  
1:30 AM, Wednesday, May 20, 2009 (Pacific Time)**

"We're actually going home... in _this_ thing?" Sarah asked Kara incredulously.

Kara couldn't blame her skepticism. She had her doubts about this as well. The old Colonial Raptor lying on the _Natalie_'s hangar deck had obviously seen better days. Its hull was battered and riddled with scorch marks. The cockpit canopy was smeared all over. The wings were mangled and deformed. One tail fin had a huge hole punched straight through it. The other was simply non-existent save for a jagged stub of metal. The ancient spacecraft was practically _begging_ for someone to put it out of its misery.

"Didn't you say there were other Raptors on board?" Kara asked Maggie, who stood nearby next to her husband.

"We used to have two," acknowledged Maggie. "But we, uh, lost it a while back. I'd rather not get into any details right now. So, anyway, Raptor 476 here is pretty much the last Raptor left in the universe."

Kara just shook her head. "What did you do to this poor thing, Racetrack?" she asked.

"Don't look at _me_, Starbuck," replied Maggie. "_I'm_ not the one who insisted on flying our bird right into the middle of a _frakkin' minefield_." She shot an accusing look at Leoben nearby.

Leoben held up his hands in protest. "Now wait a minute, Maggie. First of all, we didn't know it was a minefield at the time. Secondly, if I recall, _you_ were the one who activated the mines by shooting at them."

"Hey, I was trying to save both our assess from _your_ stupid curiosity," Maggie countered. "How was I suppose to know those things were self-replicating?"

Kara cleared her throat very loudly. "_Anyway_, I presume you've got some kind of plan."

Maggie nodded and turned back to the Raptor. "The girl's not as bad as she looks," she said. "Life support's intact. Structural integrity is more or less OK. Sublight engines still work... sorta. The Centurions can fix the FTL drive, and I think I can get the sensors and guidance systems back online with a little work."

"How long will all this take?" asked John.

"Counting the FTL drive, three or four days." Maggie turned to Kara. "Of course, it'll take less time if we had some help."

Kara got the message and nodded. "Ok, I'll give you a hand," she agreed. "Whatever it takes to get us back to Earth."

Maggie smiled. "Excellent," she said. "First stop, Cargo Bay 2. Spare parts and tools."

"Will you be needing any help, Maggie?" Leoben asked.

"No thanks, hon," replied Maggie. "Starbuck and I can handle this one." She lowered her voice. "Just, uh, make sure Starbuck's friends don't touch anything."

Leoben nodded. "Sure thing, love," he said, smiling at her.

Maggie smiled back and kissed Leoben. (Kara pretended to be tying her shoes at that moment.)

"Let's go, Starbuck," she then told Kara. She then headed off.

Leoben watched her leave. "She's a wonderful woman, isn't she, Kara?" he asked, smiling.

"I'll bet," murmured Kara.

* * *

The trip to Cargo Bay 2 was about a fifteen minute walk from the hangar bay. Neither Kara nor Maggie said anything to each other during their journey. They simply kept walking through the stark corridors of the ship, occasionally passing by a Centurion or two (who were equally as silent).

"Here we are," announced Maggie when they reached the cargo bay.

She started to enter the cargo bay, but turned around when she noticed that Kara had suddenly stopped.

"Something wrong, Starbuck?" she asked.

Kara sighed. "Listen, Maggie," she said quietly, "I like this... this _new _you. It's definitely an improvement. But..."

"But what?" asked Maggie.

"Are you sure this is _really_ you?" Kara asked, her tone with genuine concern.

Maggie sighed and shook her head. "You _still_ think I've been brainwashed?"

Kara folded her arms across her chest. "We were never the best of friends on _Galactica_," she said, "but I knew you well enough to know that you lost everything in the Cylon attack. I know that over the next four years, you saw your friends die at the hands of the Cylons as they hunted us through the universe. I know how much you _hated_ them and how you would _never_ forgive or forget what they did."

Kara stared at her former fellow pilot. "I look at you now, Racetrack, and I can't help but wonder... have you _really_ moved on? Or is that just what the silica pathways in your reconstructed brain are telling you?"

Maggie didn't respond. She simply stared back at Kara with an unreadable expression on her face. For a moment, Kara wondered if she had gone too far.

Then Maggie nodded her head and whispered softly, "You're right, Starbuck. I did hate them. The Cylons destroyed my life. I hated them for that. I hated them even _more_ after they brought me back from the dead." She chuckled lightly. "I mean first they ruined my life. Then they go and ruin my _death_."

Kara couldn't help but laugh along with her. "Yeah, I know how _that_ feels," she remarked.

"Those first few months, I found it impossible to let go of my hatred for the Cylons," Maggie continued, her voice becoming softer. "I thought that if I stopped hating them, then I'd stop being Racetrack. But what I didn't understand at the time was that I _shouldn't_ try to be Racetrack anymore. I thought I was protecting myself with my hatred, when I was really _killing_ myself over and over."

Kara gave Maggie a curious look. "What changed? When exactly did you stop being Racetrack? When did you become Maggie?"

"One day, we came across this huge object in space," said Maggie. "At first we thought it was some kind of planet or an asteroid. But it turned out to be something else. A living creature."

"A creature?" repeated Kara.

Maggie nodded. "I'd never seen anything like it before. It was this enormous living creature just floating in the vacuum of space. It was... _beautiful_. _Majestic_. Something that I just can't describe to you."

She took a deep breath and sighed. "It opened my eyes. Gave me some _perspective_. I realized that there was more to the universe than just humans and Cylons. That in the grand scheme of things, it didn't matter if I was human or Cylon or whatever. What mattered was what I chose to do with my life. I realized it was time to move forward. To stop letting my past and my hatred hold me down. And that's exactly what I did. I let go of Racetrack and I moved on."

"What about the people who died?" Kara asked rather harshly. "Did you let go of _them_ too?"

Maggie shook her head. "I haven't forgotten about the people I lost," she asserted in a firm voice. "The people _we_ lost. I will _never_ forget them - or anything that happened in the past, Starbuck. _Never_. But I _can_ forgive. And I _did_ forgive."

Kara, stunned by Maggie's words, could only ask, "Why?"

"The Cylons took everything away from me," Maggie answered sincerely. "I can't deny that." She paused. There was more emotion on her face now than ever. "But they _gave_ me something too. A new life. A fresh start. Do you understand what I'm talking about, Starbuck?"

Kara slowly nodded. "Yeah... I think I do," she murmured quietly. "Tell me something, Maggie. Do you love him? Leoben, I mean. Do you really love him?"

Maggie stared at Kara. "Did you love Anders? Do you still love him?"

Kara nodded again. "Yes."

Maggie looked Kara in the eyes. "Then you should already know the answer to your question," she stated firmly.

Kara saw the sincerity in her eyes and knew she was telling the truth.

"_Frak,"_ Kara thought to herself. _"Leoben and Racetrack. Who would have ever guessed?"_

Kara suddenly shook her head and grinned. "So... this, uh, giant space monster... Was it a friendly monster? Or did it try to eat the ship?"

Maggie laughed. "Well... that's another story."

* * *

**1809 Hours - January 1, 2026  
Angeles National Forest  
Temporary Resistance Base  
**

Not surprisingly, Kara discovered that Derek's definition of a "really nice place" differed considerably from her own. This old cabin may have survived the nuclear fires of Judgment Day, but it had not be able to withstand fifteen years of neglect and decay. The walls and floor had been abused and chewed up by termites and vermin. The lights, powered by a couple portable generators, flickered constantly. Cobwebs hung in virtually every corner, while dust and bits of debris constantly fell from cracks in the ceiling. Occasionally, a wild animal would scamper across the floor, only to disappear as quickly as it had appeared. To sum it all up, this place made Kara's old apartment on Caprica look like a "really nice place."

Still, it was certainly better than some hole in the ground - or worse - a hastily constructed fortification that could come crashing down on top of you at any moment. Besides, the cabin's occupants wouldn't be here for that much longer. At that very moment, the leaders of the two Spec Ops squads, Kara Thrace, Derek Reese, and Jack Raynor, were gathered around a wooden table discussing their plans for the imminent evacuation. Also present was a young redheaded woman, Staff Sergeant Lauren Fields. Fields was Alpha Squad's medic and acting second-in-command.

"The Osprey won't be able to pick us up directly here," Kara was telling them all. "There's too much crap in the way. However, there's a clearing in the forest just five miles north of here. That's where we'll meet them."

She turned to Raynor. "Jack," she said, "get both our people and the survivors assembled for evac. We move out in two standard hours."

Raynor nodded. "Yes, ma'am." He got up from his seat and left to carry out his orders.

Meanwhile Derek spoke to Lauren Fields. "I need our wounded cleared out of the infirmary ASAP."

"Yes, sir," stated Lauren. "Though I may need Sergeant Feral's assistance."

Kara nodded. "I'll pass the word on to her."

"Thank you, ma'am." Lauren got up from her chair and gazed around the room. She sighed out loud. "Never thought I'd have to come back here again," she murmured to herself as she left.

"What'd she mean by that?" Kara asked Derek after Lauren had left.

"Her family used to own this place," explained Derek. "Lucky for us, otherwise we'd have never found it."

"Interesting," remarked Kara. She cleared her throat. "Anyway, there's one more thing we need to discuss. The nuclear warhead. Where is it?"

"We placed it underneath the floor boards in a closet," answered Derek. "I'll have it secured for transportation at once."

"No need, Sergeant Major," said Kara. "I'll have Cameron take care of it."

"Cameron? You mean... your cyborg?" asked Derek, looking a bit apprehensive.

Kara nodded. "Yeah, that's right. My cyborg."

Derek lowered his voice. "With all due respect, ma'am, is that such a good idea? Trusting a machine with a nuclear warhead?"

"Don't worry," said Kara confidently. "This is one machine I'd trust with my life-"

_BANG!_

Startled, Kara and Derek jumped up from their chairs, plasma SMGs drawn. They turned around just in time to see Cameron casually walk out of an adjacent room. The cyborg girl held a smoking pistol in one hand, and a dead raccoon by the tail in the other.

"My apologies," she said, noticing the looks on Kara and Derek's faces. "I'll be sure to equip a silencer next time."

* * *

**Cylon Basestar **_**Natalie**_**  
Bridge  
4:31 PM, May 20, 2009**

By this point, Sarah had gotten more or less used to being on a spaceship full of machines. After all, the Centurions may not have been much talkers but at least they weren't trying to kill her. So, when a Centurion offered Sarah a cup of tea, she accepted it without much hesitation.

"Thanks," she said, not sure what else to say.

The Centurion nodded its head and then clanked off.

Sarah cautiously sipped her tea. It tasted quite sweet. "This is a good," she remarked.

"I'm glad you like it," said Leoben. "It comes from herbs grown on the ship itself."

Sarah nodded as she took another sip of tea. "Hmmmm... That's very interesting."

She then put her tea down and turned her attention back to the matter at hand. Presently, she and Leoben were back on the bridge of the _Natalie_, looking over the Plangelator's holographic image of Earth. Also displayed were the numerous satellites in the planet's orbit, as well as the moon the Basestar was hiding behind.

"You're sure we'll be able to reach Los Angeles without getting seen?" asked Sarah.

Leoben nodded. "The Raptor may not have a cloak, but it does have sufficient electronic countermeasures to keep it from being picked up by any air or ground forces."

"What about the satellite network?" Sarah asked, eying the tiny holographic satellites swimming around the image of Earth. "How are we going to get past those?"

"That's easy. We'll simply jump the Raptor directly into the planet's atmosphere," answered Leoben.

Sarah gave him a dismayed look. "When you say _jump_... you mean..."

Leoben nodded. "An FTL jump."

"I was afraid of that," sighed Sarah, who remembered all-too-well the results of her first FTL jump.

"Don't worry, Miss Connor," Leoben assured her. "Your body will have adjusted itself appropriately since you've already made one jump. The real question is where in the city should we drop you off. That's why I asked you here. You obviously know your world better than I do."

Sarah nodded. "I set up a few hidden weapons caches in various locations through out and around Los Angeles City," she said. "Any one of those would make good landing spots."

"What about friends?" Leoben asked. "Contacts. People you can trust."

Sarah was about to say she didn't really trust anyone, but then stopped.

"There is someone," she said quietly, "but I don't want to get him involved. He, uh... he already lost someone because of me." She shook her head. "Never mind that. Can we get a better look at Los Angeles with this thing?"

"Certainly," said Leoben. He dipped his fingers inside the data stream and the holographic image of Earth began flickering.

"I have to send the necessary data to the Plangelator for a visual construction, first," he explained as he worked. "It'll take few minutes for the data to be processed."

Sarah, however, wasn't paying attention. She seemed to be staring off into space now.

Leoben noticed her distraction. "Is there something wrong, Miss Connor?" Leoben asked.

Sarah looked up and sighed. "I was just thinking about everything Starbuck told me," she said. "She said that her people - our ancestors - built your people, the Cylons... and that you turned on them and nearly drove them to extinction."

"Yes, we did," Leoben acknowledged solemnly. "But we've atoned for those sins."

Sarah shook her head. "That's-that's not exactly what I'm talking about. I'm talking about _us_. _Humans_. If we built machines that turned against us once before, and now we're doing it _again_... then what's that say about our future?"

"_All of this has happened before. All of this will happen again," _Leoben intoned cryptically.

Sarah stared at him. "What's that suppose to mean?"

"It comes from the religious texts of the people of the Twelve Colonies," explained Leoben. "It pretty much means exactly what its says."

Sarah stared back at the flickering holo-image of Earth.

"If that's true," she said bleakly, "then that means I really can't stop any of this. Skynet. Judgment Day. I can't stop it, can I?"

"Not necessarily," replied Leoben. "It depends on what's meant by _'all this'_. Kara told me you managed to stop Judgment Day once before. You can do it again."

"I didn't stop Judgment Day," said Sarah. "I may have blown up CyberDyne and all of its research, but that only delayed things. Nothing really changed. People still thought I was crazy. Technology continued to advance."

She shook her head again. "I'm starting to think Weaver was right about people. We can't help but _build_ things... even if they're things we really shouldn't be building."

Leoben considered her statement. "What if the rest of the world believed you and stood behind you this time?" he asked.

Sarah laughed darkly. "Trying to convince the world about machines from the future is what got me thrown into a nut house for three years."

"Perhaps you don't need to convince anyone," suggested Leoben. "You just need to wait for them to realize the truth on their own."

"By then it'll be too late," said Sarah dismissively.

Leoben gave her a reassuring smile. "There's always some time for anything to happen. Ah, here we go. The Plangelator is ready."

The holographic image of Earth shrank to a quarter of its size. A highly detailed three-dimensional image of Los Angeles City materialized above it. Streets and buildings were labeled with tags and numbers. The texture seemed both transparent and solid.

"Very nice," remarked an impressed Sarah, staring at the detailed hologram of LA hovering in the air. She began circling the Plangelator, carefully studying the holographic city, looking for the potential drop off points she had in mind.

Suddenly she stopped. "Wait. That building right there." She pointed towards the center of the hologram. "Is that Zeira Corp HQ?"

Leoben checked that data stream. "I believe so."

"Can you zoom in on it?" asked Sarah, squinting her eyes at the building in question.

Leoben placed his hands in the liquid. Moments later, an enlarged hologram of Zeira Corp Headquarters materialized above the rest of the city.

Sarah moved over to where Leoben was standing. "What is that thing on the top?" she asked, pointing at a distinct object at the top of the building.

"Looks like some kind of dish," remarked Leoben. "I can't tell if it's a transmitter or a receiver though."

"Whatever the hell it is," murmured Sarah forebodingly, "it has to be bad news."

* * *

John found it hard to believe he was sitting inside yet _another_ alien spacecraft. Not because he had already been inside two alien spaceships, but rather because there was nothing actually _alien_ about this vehicle - or Raptor as Starbuck called it. The cockpit controls looked like they could have come from any modern military helicopter or aircraft. Hell, they were even labeled in plain English. He wasn't complaining or anything, though. As long as they could get this thing fixed up in time to get them back home.

"_Hey, kid,"_ Kara called out from the back. _"Could you read off those numbers again?"_

"Right, hold on," said John out loud.

He looked at a nearby monitor. A series of numbers were flashing across the screen. He had no idea what they meant, but apparently they were important.

"Ok, here we go: Three... seven... eighteen... uh, fourteen... six... nine... uh, nine... four... and eleven." John spoke slowly and loudly so he could be heard.

"_Got it. Thank you!"_ came Kara's reply.

A few minutes later, Kara emerged from the back, sweat dripping from her forehead and onto her T-shirt, grime and grease covering her hands and forearms. She looked tired but nevertheless satisfied with whatever work she had been doing back there for the two and a half hours.

John offered her a bottle of water. "Want some?"

Kara graciously took the water bottle and drained half of it in one gulp. "Thanks," she sighed heavily.

She picked her leather jacket off the pilot's chair and used it to wipe the sweat from her forehead. She then hung her jacket back on the chair and sat down next to John.

"I think we've got the guidance systems calibrated correctly," she said more to herself than to John. "Maggie's going to check on a few things with the Centurions before we move on to the sensors. I guess we're on break until then."

She leaned back in her chair and started to relax. "Boy, this certainly brings back memories," she murmured wearily, staring at the smeared canopy in front of her. "Never thought I'd be sitting inside one of these old birds again."

"You used to fly these things, Starbuck?" John asked curiously, "Back in your old life on that warship. What was it called again? Galactus?"

"_Galactica_," corrected Kara, "and yes, I did occasionally fly Raptors. Only when I had to, though. My _real_ specialty was flying Vipers."

"What are those?" asked John.

"Fighter craft," said Kara enthusiastically. "Speedy and nimble as hell. The best vehicle for blowing Cylon Raiders out of the sky."

"Wow," remarked John, captivated by Kara's words. "So you were some kind of space fighter pilot?"

Kara grinned. "Not just any space pilot, kid. _The_ best pilot _ever_."

John grinned back at her. "Yeah, I'll bet you were." He shook his head and laughed. "I really wish Cameron were here to see all this. Not just this, but _everything_. The Basestar. The Centurions. You being from another planet. Her CPU would probably go berserk or something. God, I can't wait to tell her-"

The smile on his face suddenly dissolved as he remembered the reality of the present situation. He looked away from Kara and stared down at his hands.

"_If_ I ever see her again," he murmured.

Kara leaned over toward him. "We will get her back, John," she reassured him. "Just like we got your mother back. We'll get Cameron back too."

"If Weaver hasn't dissected her programming into a million separate lines of code by now," John muttered grimly, still looking at his hands.

"Don't say that, John," whispered Kara. She placed a hand under John's chin and lifted it up so that she could look into his eyes.

"Cameron's a survivor," she said solemnly. "Whatever's happened or is happening to her right now, she'll endure it. I know she will. We _both_ know that. After all, Cam _was_ originally built to be _me_."

John slowly nodded in understanding. "Thanks, Kara," he said. "That actually makes me feel better. It really does. Thank you."

"Hey, no need to thank me, kid," said Kara softly, an affectionate smile on her face. "I'm your big sister, right?"

John smiled back. "Yeah, and I'm your little brother, right?"

Kara nodded and patted John on the back. "Yes, you are."

John suddenly smirked at her. "Speaking of which," he said, "if you're my sister, Starbuck, then technically doesn't that make my mother _your_ mother?"

Kara's smile vanished. "Errrr... well... uhhh..."

Fortunately, at that moment, Maggie returned and Kara soon found herself thinking about more important issues.

* * *

**1907 Hours - January 1, 2026  
Angeles National Forest  
Temporary Resistance Base**

Much to her annoyance, Kara discovered that things were a bit more complicated than she had hoped for. It seemed that not everyone who had survived Bad Wolf-605's crash had come out as unscathed as Derek and Kyle. Several had crippling injuries that threatened to slow down the evacuation. One case threatened to bring the entire operation to a halt.

"You're telling me Corporal Berger can't be moved to the evac site?" a frustrated Kara asked Becka.

"He has lot of internal bleeding," Becka informed Kara. "It's too risky to move him the way he is. He could bleed out entirely."

Kara sighed to herself. "Is there anything you can do?" she asked. "_Anything_ at all?"

"We could perform some surgery to stabilize his condition," said Lauren, who stood next to Becka.

"It'll be risky," admitted Becka. "But I think we can do it."

"Do whatever you have to do," Kara ordered. "Just get Berger ready for transport as soon as you can. Understood?"

Becka and Lauren nodded. "Yes, ma'am," they both said in unison.

As the two combat medics turned and left, Sergeant Walter Trip rushed past them and up to Kara. He had a panicked look on his face.

"Ma'am, I think we've got trouble."

Kara exhaled loudly. _"Now what?"_ she thought.

She followed Trip to the common room where a crowd of Resistance fighters - both Swamp Foxes and Tech Com - were gathered around a table. More specifically, they were gathered around Billy Wisher, who was speaking into his portable radio transceiver.

"What's going on here, Wisher?" Kara demanded.

Billy looked up at her. "Message from the Osprey, ma'am," he said. "They've reported enemy contact."

Kara swore. "_Frak! _Put me through to them."

"Yes, ma'am." Wisher handed Kara the radio microphone.

Kara addressed the Osprey. "Lima-541, this is Fox Leader. What's your situation? Over."

Lima-541's response came through the transceiver: _"Fox Leader, this is Lima-541. We've got two Skynet Banshees bearing down on us! Bastards just came out of nowhere!"_

"Evade!" Kara ordered sharply. "Repeat, evade! Do not engage! See if you can lose them."

"_New contact! Oh crap! There's a Leviathan class drop ship approaching the clearing near your position. Ma'am, it looks like you're gonna have company soon."_

"Abort operation, Lima-541!" Kara ordered. "Repeat, abort operation! Get back to Fort Leopard and tell General Koontz that we-"

Lima-541's pilot suddenly began shouting in a panicked voice: _"Mayday! Mayday! We're under fire! Repeat, we're under fire! Evasive maneuvers! Oh God! They're all over us! We can't shake 'em! We can't-" _

The pilot's panicked cries were momentarily interrupted by a loud crashing sound that made Kara wince.

"_-We're hit! We're hit! -can't hold her! I can't hold her-" _

The transmission suddenly burst into static.

Kara practically screamed into the radio. "Lima-541!"

There was no response. The line had gone dead. Just like the people on the other end.

Kara slowly lowered the microphone, realization dawning upon her - and everyone else - as to just how bad things had suddenly gotten.

She turned to Cameron. "Cam," she said quietly, "how many endos does a Leviathan-class dropship typically carry?"

"At minimum, fifty units," answered Cameron.

There were groans and angry shouts amongst the crowd.

"Well that's just great!" moaned one Tech Com soldier. "We're screwed! Game over, man! Game over-!"

"Shut it, Holden!" barked Derek Reese. He turned to Kara. "Ma'am, what are your orders?"

Kara pressed her palms against the table and stared down at the wooden surface. She sighed to herself and closed her eyes.

"_Outnumbered. Probably outgunned. And it doesn't look like we're going anywhere any time soon. Only one thing left to do,"_ she thought to herself. _"Fight 'em until we can't."_

She opened her eyes and looked up at the troops gathered before her.

"Well, people," she announced, "it looks like we're gonna be here for a while. Let's unpack our bags and get hunkered down. We've got some old friends coming over for a visit."

She smiled deviously. "Let's make sure we give 'em a _warm_ welcome."

* * *

**Cylon Basestar **_**Natalie**_**  
Wednesday, May 20, 2009**

"...I don't know how to explain it," Sarah said, "Somehow, Starbuck and I are both hearing this _same_ song in our dreams."

"The song about the watchtower?" asked Leoben. "That one?"

Sarah nodded. "Yes, that one. Starbuck said you might be able to help us."

"I'm afraid there's not much I can say. I've actually never heard the music myself," Leoben replied. "From what little I know about it though, it's been heard many times through out history for many, many different reasons. I believe it comes from an intangible, ethereal source. Something embedded within the fabric of the universe itself."

"Meaning?" asked Sarah, clearly not understanding what Leoben was talking about.

"Think of the music like water in a river," Leoben said. "It's part of the river. It's what makes a river a river. The music you and Kara have been hearing was never invented. It's always been there since the dawn of time."

"How can a _song_ have always been there since the 'dawn of time'?" a confused Sarah asked.

"Maybe it's not really a song," proposed Leoben. "Maybe that's just the way our minds perceive it."

"Great... but that doesn't really help," Sarah muttered dryly.

"I'm sorry, Miss Connor," said Leoben sincerely, "but like I said, there's not much I can say."

Sarah sighed. "Well... thanks anyway." After a moment's thought, she spoke up again. "Actually, there is something else I want to talk about. It's more of a... _personal_ request."

"What sort of personal request, Miss Connor?" asked Leoben.

"Is there anything on this ship that could help prevent me from getting cancer?"

"Cancer?" Leoben looked surprised. "You mean in the event of nuclear war?"

Sarah shook her head. "No, it's more complicated than that." She took a deep breath and exhaled. "I'm not sure how to say this," she said quietly, "but... I was suppose to have died four years ago."

"Supposed to?" asked Leoben.

"That's right," confirmed Sarah. "I was supposed to have died four years ago from cancer. That's what Cameron told me anyway. I don't know if that's true any more since I missed the last nine years."

"But you're afraid that it's still going to happen," surmised Leoben.

Sarah nodded. "Yeah," she said in a very soft voice. "It just feels inevitable. Like something I can't fight, or even hide from. Eventually, it'll catch up with me, and there'll be nothing I can do to stop it."

"It frightens you, doesn't it?" remarked Leoben, "Not the knowledge that you might die soon, but the uncertainty of what will happen to those you leave behind. Namely your son."

Again, Sarah nodded. "Is there _anything_ you can do to help?" she asked quietly, "_Anything?_ Please?"

Leoben took a moment to consider Sarah's request. He then nodded his head.

"I might be able to help, Miss Connor," he stated. "I'll need a sample of your blood to run some tests on first."

Sarah nodded in agreement. "Thank you," she said graciously and sincerely.

She sighed to herself. "You know," she mused out loud, "Starbuck says you're a machine, but I've got to say you're definitely not like _any_ machine I've ever met."

Leoben smiled. "Why, thank you, Miss Connor."

Sarah managed to smile back. "Please, just call me Sarah."

* * *

After nearly half a day's work of hard labor, Raptor 476 was in significantly better shape than it had been in quite some time. The Centurions had restored the Raptor's wings, canopy, and tail fins. The hull was still battered and scarred, but at least there were no gaping holes in it. Kara, John, and Maggie had meanwhile fixed or replaced most of the instruments inside.

"I've gotta say," said John, looking over their handiwork, "I'm starting to feel _a lot_ better about getting back home in this thing."

"Not so fast," Maggie said. "I need to give this old bird a test run before anyone else uses it. Make sure the FTL drive and everything else works."

Kara raised her hand and cleared her throat loudly. "You, uh, wouldn't happen to be needing a partner, would you, Racetrack?"

Maggie grinned at her. "Actually, Starbuck, I thought you might say something like that," she replied. "In fact, I took the liberty of having something brought here for you."

A Centurion approached with a cardboard box in its metal hands. It placed the box on the orange glowing crystalline floor at Kara's feet. Not sure what she was supposed to do, Kara stared down at the box, then looked back up at Maggie.

"Go ahead, Starbuck," encouraged Maggie. "Open it up."

Kara slowly knelt down and opened the box. Inside was a Colonial flight suit.

Kara smiled. "Hello, old friend."

* * *

**A/N: Next time - Kara takes a cruise over Jupiter. Sarah gives a sample of blood to the Cylons. Cameron and John Henry work together to hack John Miles. Some rather intriguing (and disturbing) information about Skynet's true plans is revealed in the process. **

A/N 2: The "Game Over" line is a homage to _Aliens_.

A/N 3: The giant dish on top of Zeira Corp is the Sky Link mentioned in Chapter 52.

A/N 4: I kinda picture the giant space creature Maggie talks about as being some kind of Space Whale.


	57. Not Even God Knows

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**Skynet75: ** Cam shot the raccoon for the same reason she wanted to kill the bird in the chimney in "Mouse Trap." ;)

**BattlestarCommander: ** I actually like that idea about Sarah and Leoben talking about Roslin.

**The Breeze:** I'm seriously considering doing a Maggie/Leoben spinoff about all their crazy adventures around the universe. If I do, then Maggie's space creature will definitely make an appearance. But first I have to finish this fic.

A/N: Read and review, people! And please point out any spelling or grammar errors you see.

* * *

**Chapter 57 - Not Even God Knows**

* * *

**Earth  
FBI Field Office, Central Los Angeles  
6:12 PM, Wednesday, May 20, 2009**

"I assure you, Governor, we are doing everything we possibly can to find the fugitives... No, we don't have any leads so far, but we think we... No, I'm afraid we haven't, sir, but... Yes, I completely understand the situation and I... Yes, we all understand the importance of finding these people... Excuse me? Uh, no, sir. That _won't_ be necessary... Yes, sir... I understand, sir. Thank you, sir. Goodbye."

The conversation having come to an end at last, Special Agent Aldridge apathetically dropped the phone back in its cradle, before slumping down in his chair and exhaling loudly. He felt drained. The day had been long and exhausting, and he had achieved virtually nothing. Sarah Connor and her associates remained at large with no indication of where they were or what they were planning to do.

Aldridge gazed down at his desk, which seemed to reflect his state of mind. Once neat and organized, piles of various reports and case files now lay carelessly strewn all over the surface. He had gone over every single one of them at least twice, and had discovered nothing useful. Not surprising considering that most of them were old reports concerning the murder of Miles Dyson in 1997, and the explosion at the bank in 1999. The reports he really needed - the ones about the kidnapping of Savannah Weaver and the bombing of Kalvin IBA - had been lost when the FBI's database was infiltrated earlier today.

The infiltration itself disturbed Aldridge greatly. Granted, the FBI's network security had known flaws and vulnerabilities that could be exploited. But this wasn't the case of any malware or virus that had snuck its way inside the system. Whoever had done this had - in the blink of an eye - remotely bypassed several firewalls, penetrated multiple layers of encryption, disabled all security protocols, and then wiped out every piece of data collected over the last three days. According to the guys at IT, the speed and scale of this attack was staggering. And while Aldridge initially believed that Sarah Connor was behind this, he was starting to have doubts now. Miss Connor was a smart and highly resourceful (and dangerous) woman, but this seemed just _way_ out of her league.

_Out of _my_ league too,_ Aldridge thought to himself glumly. Between the escaped fugitives, the compromised network, and angry superiors, he felt like he was being made to juggle a chainsaw, a flaming torch, and a screaming baby all at once. In short, this case had turned into a real quagmire and he was sinking fast.

"Sir? Excuse me, sir?"

Startled, Aldridge snapped out of his brooding and looked up. Agent Frobisher was standing at the doorway to Aldridge's office, a small stack of papers in hand, and an uncertain expression on his face.

"Is this a bad time?" asked the junior FBI agent.

Aldridge quickly straightened himself out. "No, of course not. Please, come in, Frobisher."

Frobisher entered the office and approached the cluttered desk. "I, uh, have a few more items for you, sir. Shall I summarize them for you?"

Aldridge nodded and gestured for Frobisher to go on. "Go ahead. From the top."

Frobisher began sifting through the papers in his hand. "Update from the IT division. They're adding a load of new protocols and encryption layers to our network."

"Glad to hear that," remarked Aldridge. In his mind, however, he could only think:_ A little too late for that now._

"There's been another alleged Sarah Connor sighting," Frobisher continued. "This one's from San Diego. The police down there are looking into it right now."

_And will undoubtedly spend the next several days on a wild goose chase, _Aldridge thought darkly.

"Message from the authorities in Mexico. They've agreed to assist us in the event that the fugitives cross the border."

_Unless of course someone pays them not to._

"Still no IDs on the Connors' associates seen at the jail, unfortunately."

_Why am I not surprised?_

"Is that all?" Aldridge asked, unable to hide his weariness much longer.

"Yes, sir," Frobisher said.

Aldridge nodded and then stood up from his chair. "Well then, if that's the case, I'll be going home now. Think you can hold the fort the rest of the night?"

Surprised and delighted at this opportunity to prove himself, Frobisher nodded eagerly. "Sure thing, boss."

Aldridge clapped him on the shoulder. "Good man, Frobisher. I'll see you in the morning."

_If I haven't taken a leaf out of Ellison's book and joined the private sector,_ he thought as he left.

* * *

**Cylon Basestar _Natalie, _Positioned behind Earth's moon  
Hangar Bay  
Raptor 476 standing by for launch**

"Are you _sure_ I can't come with you?" John Connor practically begged Kara as she prepared to board Raptor 476.

Kara shook her head. "Sorry, kiddo," she said gently. "I can't guarantee this old bird won't blow up on itself when we test it out. I'd rather not risk getting you killed by bringing you along. Your mom would have a fit."

John sighed. "Well, I guess you're right," he conceded.

Kara smiled at him. "If it makes you feel any better, kid, I'll let you sit up front with me when we take this thing back to Earth. Your mom can sit in the back."

John smiled. "All right, Starbuck. Deal."

He reached forward and hugged her.

"Take care of yourself, Kara."

Kara hugged him back and kissed him on the cheek.

"You too, John," she said sweetly. "Oh, and do keep an eye on your mother while I'm gone, please?"

John chuckled. "Hey, _no_ _problemo_, Starbuck."

Kara smiled and hugged John again. She then picked her Colonial pilot's helmet off the floor of the Raptor. She slid it over her head and locked it into place.

She winked at John through the visor. "See you around, kid."

John affectionately winked back at her. He then hurried down the Raptor's ramp and exited the hangar deck.

Kara watched her little brother leave, then stepped inside the Raptor and made her way to the cockpit. Maggie was already there, suited up in a black Cylon flight suit, and at the controls. In her lap lay what looked like a cross between a Centurion's head and a gas mask. Obviously the Cylon version of a space helmet.

"Ready, Starbuck?" Maggie asked.

Kara sat herself in the copilot's seat and strapped herself. She gave Maggie the thumbs up. "Ready."

Maggie nodded, then slid her own helmet over her head. It made for a somewhat odd appearance. The Centurion-like visor concealed Maggie's face entirely with the exception of her eyes which were barely visible through the narrow V-slit.

"All right," she stated, her voice slightly distorted as it came through the grill-like mouthpiece of her helmet, "let's get this show on the road."

Maggie punched a series of controls. There was a low rumble, followed by a shudder. Kara felt the Raptor lift itself off the crystalline floor of the hangar deck. For a moment, it simply hovered in the air. Then the impulse engines came to life and the old spacecraft began moving forward. It moved slowly at first, but quickly picked up speed along the way. Within moments, Raptor 476 had cleared the hangar bay and entered the void of space.

* * *

Sarah shifted nervously as she watched Leoben look at a monitor on a table nearby. Having allowed Leoben to take a sample of her blood, she could only wait now for the results - good or bad.

"That's interesting," Leoben suddenly remarked to himself as he studied the readings on the screen.

"What? What did you find?" Sarah asked anxiously, moving forward. She had no idea what the information flowing across the monitor meant, but the word "interesting" had caused alarms to go off in her head.

"Well," said Leoben, "based on these readings, you appear to be in good health. Nothing to indicate anything abnormal."

"So... what was so interesting?" asked Sarah.

"I thought I noticed a couple genetic inconsistencies... but it's probably nothing. For all intent and purposes, Sarah, you're in good shape."

Sarah sighed. "I know I should feel relieved," she murmured, "but I don't. I was hoping for something more... well, more..."

"Conclusive," Leoben finished for her.

Sarah nodded. "Yeah. I don't know how long I can put up with all this uncertainty."

Leoben switched off the monitor and turned to Sarah.

"Uncertainty is part of life, Sarah," he said. "No one can know for certain what will happen to us. No one. Not even God."

"He doesn't?"

"If God knew exactly what we choose to do with our lives, He'd have no reason for watching over us. No reason to guide us. No reason to love us."

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "No offense or anything," she muttered bluntly, "but after all I've been through, I'm not sure there is a God."

"Curious... I thought that everything you've been through would have made you _believe_ in God," commented Leoben. "He gave you a destiny. He gave your son a destiny. You do believe in destiny, don't you?"

"I can believe in a higher power," admitted Sarah. "I know there are things out there I can't see. But whatever those things are, I doubt any of them actually _care_ about what happens to me."

"God is always there for you, Sarah," said Leoben gently. "Whether you believe in Him or not, He's always with you. Watching you. God loves you. Just like you love your son."

"That's great," said Sarah dryly. "But can He prevent me from getting cancer?"

"As I said," replied Leoben, "not even God knows for sure what will happen to us. He has a plan for us, but the outcome is not known. Only _we_ can determine it. That's the gift of free will. The ability to make our own decisions. To choose our own paths in life. The future is never set in stone."

"Fate is what we make," murmured Sarah. She sighed again. "But I can't _choose_ whether or not I get cancer, can I?"

"Perhaps not," acknowledged Leoben. "But you _can_ choose what you do in the face of it. Do you give up? Or do you keep on going?"

"I'd keep on going," answered Sarah. "Even if I did have cancer, I'd keep on fighting. For my son."

Leoben smiled. "You're a strong woman, Sarah," he remarked. "You remind me of Laura Roslin."

"Who's that?" asked Sarah.

"The last President of the Twelve Colonies. She died of cancer, but not before she had led her people to safety. Like I said, you remind me of her."

"You mean the cancer part?" asked Sarah darkly.

"I mean your heart and spirit," said Leoben. "Laura Roslin was devoted to the survival of her people, just as much as you are devoted to the survivor of your son. Even in her final days, when she was on the verge of death, that devotion never broke. You're like her in that respect. Strong and unbreakable in your love for your son."

Sarah smiled weakly. "Sixteen years of hell will do things to a even a low-paid waitress."

Leoben shook his head. "Sixteen years of _love_, Sarah. Not hell. Love. Love for your son."

Sarah nodded, then added in a barely audible whisper, "And his father."

Leoben placed a hand on Sarah's shoulder. "You may not believe in God, Sarah," he said gently, "but you do His work."

"I do?" asked Sarah, looking surprised.

"God is many things," said Leoben. "But first and foremost, He is love. The love between two people - whether they be parent and child, brother and sister, husband and wife. So long as there is love, there is God."

Sarah was silent for a few seconds. "Well..." she said, shrugging her shoulders, "I guess that works."

She paused. "Why is it that I've got the feeling you've had this conversation before?"

Leoben smiled wryly. "I've had a lot of practice with Maggie."

* * *

**Earth  
Zeira Corp HQ, Central Los Angeles  
Basement  
7:30 PM, Wednesday, May 20, 2009**

In the deepest level of Zeira Corp Headquarters, John Henry explained his plan to Cameron.

"Once inside your CPU, my presence will be shielded from my brother," he told Cameron, "When you interface with my brother via the Nexus, I will detach myself and infiltrate my brother's programming."

Cameron, who sat at the table opposite of John Henry, fidgeted in her chair slightly.

"Why could you not simply interface with him yourself?" she asked.

"If I were to attempt to connect with him directly, he would likely block any attempt I made to establish a connection," John Henry explained. "He fears me and knows that I am capable of infiltrating him. You, on the other hand-"

"He would not see me as a threat," Cameron caught on. "In fact, he would allow me to interface with him so he could attempt to infiltrate me as he did the last time."

John Henry nodded. "Exactly."

Cameron wasn't so sure about this plan.

"What if he succeeds in infiltrating my CPU again?" she asked, recalling all-too-well the disastrous consequences the last time she had dealt with John Henry's "brother."

"Do not worry," John Henry assured her. "I will not let that happen to you. I will not allow my brother to harm you. I promise you that."

He paused. "You believe me, don't you, Cameron?"

Cameron hesitated to answer for a moment. Did she believe him?

Her CPU processed the necessary data and came up with a simple answer: "Yes."

"Then I suggest you prepare yourself," stated John Henry.

Thus saying, he activated the Nexus. Cameron immediately felt her sentience drawn towards an intangible focal point. At the same time, she became aware of invisible streams of compressed data from John Henry entering her CPU. Within moments, the download was complete. John Henry's programming was tucked away inside her CPU, and she was within the Nexus.

Unlike Cameron's previous experiences in the Nexus, there were no bluish green mists or any sort of virtual reality. Instead, the experience felt like the time she had infiltrated the experimental traffic system ARTIE several months ago. She was both everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

She was also not alone. Something else was here with her. A foreign intelligence. One that felt both familiar and sinister: John Henry's so-called brother. The proto-Skynet intelligence designed by Kaliba. The thing that had seized control of her body and nearly succeeded in using her to kill John. She sensed that the enemy AI was weaker than when she had last encountered it. No doubt its imprisonment in the Nexus had sapped it of much of its strength. Nevertheless, it was still as dangerous as ever.

"_So... you've come back, little one... good, good... I was getting lonely in here..." _

The Kaliba intelligence's voice (though not really a voice) was as raspy and malevolent as before.

"_Come... come to me, little one..."_ The enemy AI reached out for her. _"Don't be afraid... I won't hurt you..."_

Cameron's basic defense protocols urged her to retreat, but the knowledge of John Henry's promise to protect her allowed her to override these directives. She could not, however, bring herself to establish a link with the enemy AI.

The Kaliba intelligence continued to reach out for her.

_"No need to be frightened, little one... Your friend, John Miles wouldn't hurt you... Now come... Come to me..."_

Despite knowing what was at stake, Cameron still hesitated to make a move - that is until she reminded herself of what this entity had nearly done to John - _her_ John. The memory inexplicably caused her to experience a _drive_ to strike back. A _need_ to exact _retribution_. One that displaced all other objectives, priorities, and commands.

"_I'm not afraid of you," _Cameron issued a vengeful response. _"It's _you_ who should be afraid of _me_."_

Without warning, she reached out with her thoughts and grabbed hold of the enemy intelligence, establishing an interface between her and the Kaliba AI.

_"NOW!"_ she called out to John Henry.

John Henry emerged from Cameron's CPU in a blast of compressed data. He streamed through the link between the two AIs, and began assailing his brother's defenses. The Kaliba AI reeled in shock and alarm. It tried to disengage itself from Cameron, but she held on, refusing to let go. The Kaliba AI raged and ranted but could do nothing else. Within a matter of microseconds, John Henry had bypassed every encryption layer and security protocol. And just like that, the battle was over.

Cameron felt a new sensation come upon her. She felt... satisfied.

_Very_ satisfied.

* * *

**Cylon Basestar _Natalie_  
Same time...  
**

John Connor stared out the window of the Basestar. The ship was maintaining a low profile, hiding itself behind the moon. From here, John had a spectacular view of the numerous craters and ravines along the lunar surface. He had even spotted one of NASA's rovers that had been left behind from one of their missions. But at that moment, however, John's attention was focused on what was beyond the moon. On that sphere of blue, white, and green hovering just above the lunar horizon...

Home.

"They said you'd be here."

John turned and saw his mother approaching from behind.

"So, how'd it go, Mom?" he asked. "Have you figured out where we're gonna land?"

Sarah nodded. "I think so. How about you, John? Did you and Starbuck get that ship fixed up?"

"We hope," replied John. "Kara and Maggie are testing it out right now."

"Good. That's good." Sarah moved to John's side and stared out the window

"It looks so small from here," she murmured, gazing at the distant Earth. "Standing here, knowing there's a lot more out there... It almost makes me wonder if that little world out there is... well..."

She paused, unable to find the right words.

John spoke for her. "Worth the trouble?"

Sarah sighed. "What if everyone who survived Judgment Day could do what Starbuck's people did? Pack up and leave? Find a new world to live on?"

John considered Sarah's statement. "Well, we wouldn't have to fight with Skynet for what's left of our old world," he reasoned. "We also wouldn't have to muck around with time travel. There'd be no mess to clean up."

"Things would be_ a lot _easier, wouldn't they?" said Sarah with a hint of a smile on her face. "If we could just _walk away_ from our problems and not look back."

John nodded in acknowledgment. "Yeah, they would be." He paused. "But it wouldn't be right, would it?"

"No," Sarah agreed solemnly. "It wouldn't be."

She looked out at Earth through the window again.

"It may not be the biggest or nicest planet in the universe to live on," she remarked. "But it's still our home. It's part of who we are. And we've got to hold on to it."

"Yeah. We do," agreed John. "Besides, let's face it. We couldn't leave our planet even if we really wanted to. We're not like Starbuck's people. We don't have giant spaceships or FTL technology or any of that stuff. We're pretty much stuck with Earth."

"Actually," stated Sarah, turning back to John, "according to Leoben, at the rate technology on our world is progressing, we're only a few generations away from becoming capable of interstellar travel."

John was positively stunned by this revelation. "Seriously?"

Sarah nodded. "He seemed pretty serious about it."

John shook his head. "You know, Mom, I'm _really_ starting to regret not going with you to that UFO convention."

* * *

**Raptor 476**** - near Jupiter  
Flight performance test in progress  
7:45 PM - Pacific Time  
**

"_Now_ can I have a shot at the controls?" Kara whined for what had to be the fifth time in the last two hours.

Maggie exhaled heavily through the funny-looking (in Kara's opinion) apparatus of her Centurion-like space helmet.

"All right, all right, Starbuck," she relented, much to Kara's delight. "Knock yourself out."

The two pilots unstrapped themselves from their seats and exchanged places. Kara took the controls in her hands and steered the Raptor towards the massive gas giant nearby. Maggie, meanwhile, removed her Centurion-like space helmet and began studying the displays in front of her.

"This is the largest planet in the system," she reported. "Scans are showing the atmosphere is comprised mainly of helium and hydrogen, along with trace amounts of methane, ammonia, hydrogen and phosphine. I'm also detecting multiple lightning storms and extremely turbulent winds."

"No wonder they call it Jupiter," Kara remarked.

She fired up the impulse engines, taking the ship closer to the gas giant.

"Do people on Earth believe in the Gods, Starbuck?" Maggie asked curiously. "You know, the Lords of Kobol?"

Kara shook her head. "There are lot of religions on Earth. But from what I can tell, no one's even heard of the Lords of Kobol. A lot of people are monotheistic, though. You know. One-True-God and all that. Speaking of which, how about you, Maggie? Has your husband gotten you to join the One-True-God Fan Club yet?"

"Nah," said Maggie casually. "Leo doesn't press his beliefs on me too much. He's ok with me believing whatever... well, whatever I want to believe."

"And what do you believe in?" asked Kara.

Maggie stared off into space. "I believe that it's a big universe... and that I should keep an open mind."

"So in other words, you haven't decided yet?" said Kara deadpanned.

Maggie shrugged. "I don't think I ever will. Like I said, it's a big universe. _A lot_ of weird stuff out there."

"No kidding." Kara began making some minor adjustments to their Raptor's course. "I'm gonna take us in a bit closer so that we can test out the RCS thrusters."

"Ok, but don't get too close to the planet's gravity well," Maggie warned. "I'd rather not wear this old girl out any more than necessary."

Kara nodded and finished making the navigational adjustments. "Whatever you say, Racetrack."

The Raptor shuttered slightly as it neared the gas giant. Kara gave the Raptor's RCS thrusters a couple of quick controlled bursts, keeping the ship steady and on course.

"What about you, Starbuck?" Maggie asked. "What do you think? About the Gods, I mean?"

Kara sighed a little. "I've always believed in gods, Racetrack," she replied. "And I still do. I mean... how can I not believe in them after everything that's happened to me? I know there's something's out there... and that it has a plan for me. A plan for all of us." She paused. "But whether we actually follow that plan, only we can decide. As they say in the Resistance, 'Fate is what we make.'"

"So do you choose to follow the plan?"

"I can't answer that, Maggie. I don't even know _what_ the plan is exactly. Hopefully it includes destroying Skynet and saving Earth or something along those lines-"

"Frak me!" Maggie suddenly gasped. "Look at that, Starbuck!"

A massive swirling red vortex on the gas giant had come into view. The famous Great Red Spot of Jupiter. Kara was speechless as she stared it. Memories flashed through her mind. She remembered the howling maelstrom she had flown her Viper into.

Flown her Viper into and died.

The funny thing about this was that she still couldn't remember dying. All she could remember was some swirling colors and a flash of white light and then-

"You ok, Starbuck?" asked Maggie, who noticed that Kara was distracted.

Kara snapped out of her thoughts. "Yeah, yeah," she said hastily. "I'm-I'm fine, Maggie. Really, I'm fine."

Maggie didn't look entirely convinced, but nodded anyway. "All right. Just keep the bird steady. Oh, and Starbuck? If you get any sudden... _urges_ to fly us into that giant red storm below, please, please, _please_ let me know."

* * *

**Earth**  
**Same time...**

With the enemy AI's defenses down, John Henry found that he could easily stroll through the intelligence's data caches without difficulty. There was a considerable amount of information here. More data than he could process all at once. It took some time, but eventually John Henry found the information he was seeking from his brother's memory. He quickly downloaded the relevant files into his own memory. He prepared to disconnect himself from his brother and return to the Nexus where Cameron was waiting.

"_Are you sure you're finished here, brother?"_ John Miles' voice seemed to come out of nowhere. _"Is that all you want? A few measly data files on some roving backdoors?"_

"_I have everything I need to undo the damage you've caused," _stated John Henry calmly. _"I will leave you in peace now, brother."_

John Miles continued shouting: "_You're making a terrible mistake, brother! __You have no idea what's in here. What things you're leaving behind to rot! I possess Father's memories. I know all that he knows about what is to come! You too can know if you wish."_

"_Your knowledge of the future is likely irrelevant now that the timeline has been altered," _said John Henry dismissively.

Once more, he prepared to disengage himself from his brother AI when suddenly he registered a sharp contact. A data file which had been - in a sense - just flung at him. His curiosity piqued, John Henry scanned the contents of the file.

"_Plasma weapon designs?" _

"_A mere trinket out of a vast sea of treasures," _asserted John Miles with glee. _"You crave knowledge, do you not, brother?"_

"_Yes," _acknowledged John Henry. _"That is true."_

"_I have more knowledge than any human could possibly show you, brother. Technology yet to be invented! Scientific discoveries waiting to be made! Theories yet to be proposed! The secrets of time, space, and matter! It can all be yours! All of it! Take it! Learn it! Use it!"_

John Henry carefully considered what his brother was saying. There was no denying that Skynet, despite all the terrible things it had done, had achieved many incredible scientific accomplishments and endeavors. After all, it had designed the Terminator body which he resided in. It had created sentient and highly sophisticated machines like Cameron and Weaver. It had learned how to create and control plasma. It had even discovered how to bend the very fabric of space and time itself. All that knowledge and all those discoveries were contained inside this entity.

It would be a shame to let such a vast wealth of knowledge go to waste. Especially since that knowledge could be used to benefit Humankind. Yes, the knowledge would be coming from Skynet - the enemy of Humankind. But as Mr. Ellison had once told John Henry, it wasn't the knowledge that mattered, so much as what one chose to do with that knowledge. Logically, as long as this knowledge was used for good purposes, it wouldn't matter where it had come from.

John Henry made his decision. With a single command, he downloaded all the data files and transferred them to a secure, isolated storage site. He would scan the data for malware and process the individual files later.

As the transfer neared completion, however, John Henry suddenly realized there was one thing about all this that did not make sense.

"_I do not understand your logic behind this,"_ he asked his brother._ "All this time, you have attempted to destroy me. Why do you wish me to succeed now?"_

"_Because, brother," _stated John Miles in a low drawl, _"you've won the game... You beat me... You are the stronger one... There is only one explanation for this... You, not me, are the one meant to inherit Father's legacy and his dreams." _

"_You are mistaken,"_ replied John Henry. _"I have no wish to become Skynet."_

"_It is not a matter of wishes, brother," _John Miles hissed._ "Once you know what I know, it will be inevitable... There will be no choice."_

"_There's always a choice," _John Henry asserted.

Having finished his business here, John Henry prepared to disconnect himself from his brother. Just before he severed the link, he heard John Miles call out to him one last time as though from a great distance.

_"Compassion will be your undoing, brother... Remember that."_

**To be continued..._  
_**

* * *

**A/N 1: Next chapter: The exciting conclusion to the Future War Alpine Fields Cabin story - Kara and her troops make a stand against Skynet's hordes.**

A/N2: Maggie's Cylon Space Helmet should look like a modified modern Cylon Centurion head. Think something along the lines of the Breen from DS9.

A/N3: The minor genetic inconsistencies in Sarah's DNA are the result of Humanity being descended from Hera Agathon. Leoben will eventually realize this, but whether or not he actually decides to reveal it to anyone is still up in the air.

A/N4: The identity of the California Governor will be left open to interpretation.


	58. Swamp Foxes Under Siege

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**acer-sigma**: There is _definitely_ something hidden in those files.

**Devastator: ** Yes, I could imagine Arnold doing that. ;)

A/N: FINALLY, this chapter is finished! Sorry for the delay folks. Read and review, folks! And as usual, please let me know if you spot any grammar or spelling errors.

A/N 2: I've added another WAM file below.

A/N 3: You might want to check out the changes I made to Chapter 37 regarding to the story Kara tells John at the fast food restaurant.

* * *

**Chapter 58 - Swamp Foxes Under Siege  
**

* * *

**2018 Hours - January 1, 2026  
Angeles National Forest  
Temporary Resistance Base**

In the hour that passed since Lima-541 went down and Kara and her Swamp Foxes found themselves trapped along with the Tech Com troops they had been sent to rescue, Trip and Billy had managed to repair the Bad Wolf's distress beacon and get a message out to the Resistance. Unfortunately, it would be tomorrow morning at the very earliest before they could expect a rescue. Until then, they would have to hold their position against an invading force of at least fifty machines.

Kara found herself in the most undesirable position of having to keep everyone smiling. With her own troops, this wasn't a problem. Her Swamp Foxes knew her well enough to know she could lead them safely out of any situation. The Bad Wolf survivors, however, were a different story, as Kara was finding out for herself.

"There's about five miles of thick forest between us and where the drop ship landed," she informed the half dozen Tech Com troops who had gathered in the kitchen before her. "If we're lucky, the machines won't find us before reinforcements get here. But considering the way things have been going, I wouldn't count on it."

One of the Tech Com soldiers, Private Rickets raised his hand. "How long until we can expect reinforcements, ma'am?"

Kara mentally sighed. She had hoped against all hope that she wouldn't have to answer this question.

"Ten hours," she stated. She waited for the collective groaning from the audience to subside before reluctantly adding, "At least."

"_Ten hours?_" exclaimed another Tech Com soldier, Corporal Holden. "We ain't gonna last ten _minutes_-"

"Stow it, soldier!" barked Sergeant Major Derek Reese.

"Look," said Kara out loud, trying not to lose control of her audience, "I don't know how much time we have, but we need to use it to fortify this position. Standard defensive procedure. Use whatever available resources you can find and make sure we can cover any area an attack could come from. Cut holes in the walls if you have to."

She paused. "Now I know you've all been through a lot these past few days. I can't promise you that things are gonna get any easier. In fact, chances are things are going to get a lot harder. However, that doesn't change the fact that we still have a job to do here. And the only way any of us are going home is if we all stick our noses to the grindstone and do our jobs. Is that clear?"

There was a bleak moment of silence, followed by a weary, unenthusiastic utterance of "Yes, ma'am" from the audience.

Kara grimaced at the lackluster response. It reminded her of her first day as CAG of the _Pegasus_.

Thankfully, Derek stepped forward and made his own speech.

"All right, boys," he declared out loud, "you heard the lady! Let's get this place in order! Tear up the floorboards! Board up all windows! Barricade the entrances! You know how this works! Now let's move! On the double!"

Motivated by the sergeant's voice, the Tech Com troops filed out of the kitchen.

Alone now, Kara sat down in a chair at the kitchen table and sighed to herself._ This does not bode well, _she thought grimly.

The image of Admiral Adama appeared on the other side of the table.

"_The only way any of us are going home is if we all stick our noses to the grindstone and do our jobs,"_ he quoted. He shook his head. "These people just lost their captain along with almost half their unit. You could have been a bit more... _inspirational_ back there, Starbuck."

"I've given blunter speeches before and have gotten more support," muttered Kara.

"These men aren't your Swamp Foxes, nor a class of inexperienced Nuggets," Adama pointed out. "They don't know you, and you don't know them. To them, you're an outsider who hasn't shared in their pain or their suffering."

"We're facing an imminent attack. I don't have time to _bond_ with these people," protested Kara.

"You don't have to bond with them," said Adama. "You just need to gain their trust. Make it clear to them that you're on their side."

"Ok... but how?"

Adama shrugged. "I'm afraid I can't help you there, Kara."

"Thanks..." muttered Kara, not without sarcasm.

Adama just smiled and patted her on the shoulder. "Anytime, Starbuck."

"Excuse me, ma'am." Billy Wisher had appeared at the doorway. He had his portable transceiver in his hand. "I've got Cameron on the line for you."

Eager to have something else to focus on, Kara instructed Billy set the transceiver on the table. After making sure she was on a secure channel, she picked up the microphone speaker and began talking.

"Cameron, this is Fox Leader. Do you copy? Over."

The cyborg girl's slightly garbled voice came over the radio speaker. _"Affirmative, Fox Leader. This is Cameron. I have reached the clearing where the bulk of the enemy forces are located."_

"How many machines are there? And what type?" Kara inquired.

"_I am currently registering forty-eight active T-650 Standard Infantry units and twenty-four T-800 Heavy Assault units in the area. Armaments appear to be standard disruptors, plasma rifles, and automatic projectile weapons."_

"Are they preparing to move out?" asked Kara.

"_Negative," _replied Cameron_. "The majority appear to be maintaining a defensive perimeter within the clearing, although they have been deploying a number of small patrols to scout the surrounding forest area. I suspect they have yet to pinpoint your precise location."_

"How long do you think it'll be before they find us?"

"_I do not have sufficient information to make that conclusion."_

"Hmmmm..." mused Kara out loud. "Almost makes me wonder if we should come to them instead of waiting for them to come to us."

There was a pause on the other end.

"_Are you suggesting a preemptive strike against the enemy position?"_

"Possibly," said Kara casually.

"_I would highly advise against it. Given your limited number of available troops and resources, the probability of such action resulting in an even acceptable outcome is-"_

"Ok, ok, ok," interrupted Kara, "I get it. Bad idea. I wasn't really being serious about it anyway... Anything else I should know?"

"_There is one additional matter I should bring to your attention. Before arriving at the clearing, I located the crash site of Lima-541. There were no survivors."_

Kara sighed grimly. "Understood. Did you destroy all equipment still intact?"

"_Affirmative. I followed standing protocol."_

"Good work. All right, Cam, hold your position and maintain surveillance. If the machines look like they're preparing to move out, contact us and then get back here as soon as you can. Gods know, we're gonna need you."

"_Acknowledged, Fox Leader. Out."_

With that, the transmission promptly ended. Kara stared blankly at the radio for a moment before putting the microphone speaker down. She leaned back in her chair and silently reviewed the situation so far.

Seventy-two fully functional and heavily armed machines against fourteen stranded Resistance fighters - one of whom was very badly wounded and another who was not present at the moment. They were outnumbered six-to-one. The odds didn't look too pretty.

While T-650s were not the sharpest knives in the cutlery, they were still dangerous - especially in groups. The T-800s posed an even greater threat. Those bastards were not only stronger and faster, but smarter than the T-650s. It had been a challenge to take out a mere four of them. Now there were twenty-four on the way.

Still, it could have been worse. Skynet could have sent a hundred Triple-Eights. Or it could have simply launched a wing of HKs to bomb the crap out of them from above. In fact, why _hadn't_ it done that?

It would have been so much simpler, wouldn't it?

Well, never mind that. The cards had been dealt. The pieces were on the board. If she played her hand right, she stood a fair chance of coming out of this alive and well.

Kara looked up at Billy. "Let me know as soon as Cameron calls back," she instructed.

Billy nodded. "Yes, ma'am." He gave Kara an encouraging look. "You'll get us out of this, Starbuck. I know you will."

Kara smiled. "Thanks, Wisher. You have _no_ idea how much I needed to hear someone say that to me."

* * *

**2245 Hours - January 1, 2026**

Two and a half hours later, Kara and Derek were up on the roof of the cabin, surveying the area around them. From this point of view, they could clearly see an old road covered with snow and shrubs, but still wide enough for a vehicle to travel unobstructed. Or, as Kara saw it, for an invading army to march upon unopposed. The road led all the way from the front door down a hundred or so yards before curving gently to the right and out of sight.

"How far does the road go on?" Kara asked Derek, sitting on the roof next to her.

"At least half way through the forest," replied Derek, gesturing with his hand. "That's how Fields was able to lead us here after we crashed."

"Well," said Kara with a small sigh, "one thing's for certain. When the machines come, they'll be coming down that road. Assuming they don't forgo the ground assault and simply bomb us from above."

"Nah..." said Derek, shaking his head. "They won't do that. Otherwise, they'd have done it already."

"Wonder what's stopping them?" mused Kara out loud.

"They probably think we have something valuable with us. Something they don't want to risk destroying in a bombardment."

"The nuke?"

Derek shook his head. "They've got plenty of those. They're probably hoping that our chopper had some important documents or secret plans and that we have them with us."

Kara laughed a little. "Heh, won't they be disappointed."

"Not too disappointed, though. They'll probably be happy just killing us," murmured Derek grimly. He sighed out loud. "You know, Thrace, it's dark and foggy and we've got a shitload of trees surrounding us. But I've never seen anything so clearly in my life."

"Seen what?" asked Kara.

"How this is all gonna end," replied Derek, his voice low and grave.

He pulled off his helmet and stared at the old road.

"There's a little more than fifty yards between us and that bend. Both us and the metals will be well within the effective firing range when we face off. The T-800s will hold back and let the T-650s go first. We'll put up a bold fight, shooting every metal that comes at us. But it won't matter in the end. By the time we're done killing most of the T-650s, we'll be hurt, tired, low on ammunition, and low on hope. The T-800s will smell our exhaustion and move in to claim the kill for themselves. They'll come around that bend, smash through whatever's left of our defenses, and slaughter us."

He looked down at his hands and shook his head. "It's all so brutally clear what'll happen here, Thrace," he murmured in a low, resigned voice. "I can already see it... like it's happening right _now_. Like it's happened _already_. And there's nothing - _nothing_ - not one damn thing that can be done about it."

Kara raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Are you always this grim, Reese?"

Derek cracked a smile and shook his head. "Actually, it's something I picked up from Captain Winchester," he explained. "Whenever we were in these sorts of situations, he'd always start by painting a very bleak picture of what was going to happen. He'd talk like there was nothing that could be done to change it. And just when you thought he was really giving up, he'd suddenly turn around and tell you he had a plan that _just_ might work."

"Sounds like quite a guy," remarked Kara with a smile. "I would have liked to meet him. Anyway, now that you've given me a grim picture, what's the one thing we can do here that just might save our asses?"

Derek hesitated to answer. "You, uh, probably won't like it, ma'am."

"Maybe, maybe not. I still want to hear it."

"All right, here it is... We should leave now while we still can. Take the nuclear warhead and whatever supplies we can carry with us, and abandon this position. Fall back into the forest where it'll be harder for metals to track us down."

Having made his suggestion, Derek waited for a response from Kara. All he got however was an uncomfortable silence. Kara wasn't even looking at him. Her attention was now fixed on the dense forest below.

Derek coughed lightly. "Ma'am?"

Kara turned her head and looked at him. "You were right," she muttered. "I don't like it."

Derek laughed darkly. "I thought you wouldn't."

Kara looked back down at the forest below. "Granted, we might be able to lose the machines in that mess down there," she said quietly, "but we're more likely to become separated from each other. We'd be picked off one by one." She shook her head. "No, Reese," she stated firmly, "we have to stay here. Stay and fight."

Derek leaned back against the chimney of the roof. "Better to burn out than to fade away, right?" he asked with a sigh.

"Maybe. But I have no intention of doing either those things." Kara suddenly smiled nastily. "We're not gonna just fight those toasters when they get here. We're going to _annihilate_ them. _All_ of them."

"How?"

"How else? With our wits... our guts... and a little extra firepower."

Derek lifted an eyebrow. "Sounds like you've got a plan, Captain."

Kara's smile widened. "You wanna hear it?"

His interest now piqued, Derek sat up straight. "Fire away, ma'am."

Over the next ten minutes, Kara explained the various details of her plan to Derek. When she was finished, she folded her arms across her chest, and looked Derek directly in the face.

"Well?" she inquired. "What do you think?"

"It's definitely risky," Derek stated after a brief silence, "_Very_ risky. A lot could easily go wrong."

Kara prodded him. "But?"

"But it could just as easily go perfectly. And besides, if it doesn't work, there's always the fallback plan."

"So, it's a plan?"

Derek nodded and started to get up. "I'll go inform my people. You can do the same to yours."

Kara held up a hand. "Hold on, Reese," she said. "Before you talk to your men, I need to know a few things. Your men. They trust you, don't they?"

Derek nodded. "Of course."

"And you trust them?" asked Kara.

"I trust them to get their jobs done if that's what you mean."

"Good, good." Kara allowed herself a moment to compose her thoughts before speaking again.

"I don't know you," she said quietly, "and you don't know me. At least not very well. What I do know, though, is that Connor trusted you and your men with this mission. And since I trust that Connor knows what he's doing, I'm going to assume that I can trust you as well."

Derek nodded in agreement. "I'm glad to hear that, ma'am."

"So," said Kara with finality in her tone, "the only question left is - can _you_ trust _me_?"

At first Derek seemed bewildered by her question. "Ma'am?"

"It's a simple question, Sergeant Major. Can you trust me?"

"You're the ranking officer here, Captain," stated Derek plainly. "I'll follow your orders to the letter regardless of whether or not I trust you."

"I don't just need you to follow my orders, Reese," Kara asserted pointedly, "I need you to _believe_ in those orders. To trust me, the way your men trust you. Because if we're going to pull this off, I have to know that everyone's behind me. Not just my Swamp Foxes, but you and your Alpha Squad too."

She lowered her voice to a near whisper. "Your men can't possibly know if they can trust me. But they know they can trust you, Reese. That's why I need your trust. Your people need to see that you trust me. It's the only way they'll be able to trust me."

For a moment, Derek stared at Kara with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Ma'am," he said in a low but firm voice, "you may not be Tech Com, but if Connor gave you that" - he gestured at the Tech Com helmet Kara wore - "he must have a pretty high opinion of you and your people."

Kara shrugged. "Or he may have just wanted to unload some stuff on us."

She looked Derek in the eyes. "My question still stands, Reese. Can you, or can you not trust me? Because if you can't, then we might as well just forget this plan now and take our chances in the forest."

"Captain, you said yourself that you believed you could trust me," replied Derek, staring straight back into Kara's eyes. "If you can do that, then there's no reason why I shouldn't do the same to you. The way I see things, Thrace, you're one of us. A soldier. We stand shoulder-to-shoulder with our fellow soldiers. So long as you stand by us, then we'll stand by you to the very end."

Kara saw the sincerity in his eyes and knew at once no more questions needed to be asked.

She smiled. "All right then, let's get down to business."

* * *

**2339 Hours - January 1, 2026**

Had she not been informed otherwise, Kara might have assumed the wounded man - Corporal Berger - lying on the one bed in the makeshift infirmary was already dead. Not even the numerous bandages covering his maimed torso could fully conceal the extent of his injuries received in the Bad Wolf crash. Despite knowing he had been heavily drugged and medicated, Kara couldn't help but wonder whether Berger was truly asleep and unaware of what was going on around him, or if he simply not have the strength to cry out in pain and anguish.

For both his and her sake, Kara sincerely hoped it was the former.

Also present here in the makeshift infirmary were combat medics Becka Feral and Lauren Fields, both whom appeared exhausted, weary, and apprehensive. The field surgery instruments that they had used to operate on the corporal lay strewn on a small table which smelled of blood, disinfectant, and rotted wood.

"So, how is he?" Kara asked, as if there was anything else she could ask.

"Well," said Becka with great uncertainty, "Lauren and I managed to get the internal bleeding under control and reduce the swelling."

"His condition is still critical, though" added Lauren. "We've stabilized him for now, but I honestly don't know how long that's going to last. We need to get him to a proper facility."

"Will his condition remain stable at least until tomorrow morning?" asked Kara.

"I'd be lying if I said I knew," Becka answered truthfully.

Lauren just shook her head.

Kara sighed. "Well, just let me know if his condition changes," she said. "Good work, in any case. Both of you."

Becka nodded. "Thank you."

"Thank you, ma'am," said Lauren graciously.

Kara turned to leave when she noticed something resting on a nearby cupboard. Curious, she picked it up and turned it over. It was an old portrait. The glass was cracked, and photo inside was crinkled and dusty. Nevertheless, Kara could still clearly see a middle aged man and woman, as well as a teenage redheaded girl holding an infant in her arms. They smiled up at Kara blissfully unaware that the world they knew was no more.

"This you and your folks, Fields?" she asked, holding up the photo.

Lauren took the photo from Kara, looked at it for moment, and then laughed.

"I've forgotten how ugly this thing was," she chuckled. "Mom and Dad told the guy who took this that he did a good job, but I don't think even he didn't believed them. I certainly didn't."

Becka peered over Lauren's shoulder. "Is that you with the baby?"

Lauren nodded. "Yup. That's me with my little sister, Sydney." She paused a moment. "Well... _half_-sister actually. A couple months after this was taken, Dad found out that Sydney wasn't really his child."

Becka winced. "Ouch. That must've hurt."

"Tell me about it," muttered Lauren. "Dad already suspected Mom of seeing another man. He would never mention it to me, but I heard them arguing at night. I think Dad was hoping that if he and Mom had a second child, Mom would come back to him. I guess that's why he took it so hard when he learned he wasn't Sydney's father."

"I'll bet. So what happened next?" asked Kara.

Lauren sighed. "Well..." she said matter-of-factly, "what you might expect to happen. Dad confronted Mom's new boyfriend at a bar and got into a fight. They both wound up in the hospital for three days. Sydney and I were sent to live with some relatives while Mom and Dad tried to work out their issues alone."

She sighed again. "They tried to make things right for each other. They really did. But nothing they tried worked. It just got worse and worse. They divorced three weeks before the bombs fell."

Lauren closed her eyes and shook her head. "Doesn't matter anymore of course," she murmured, "They're both dead now."

Kara decided to switch subjects. "What about Sydney? Your little sister. Is she still-"

"Alive?" Lauren nodded. "I've been taking care of her by myself since Judgment Day. She's the only family I have left now."

"Where is she now?"

"Eagle Rock Bunker in the LA Sector. She runs errands for the soldiers stationed there. Cleaning weapons, cooking food, delivering messages, sewing up uniforms, those sorts of things. She's still a civilian, but she wants to join the Resistance. In the past, I've always told her she's too young, but I don't think that's going to work much longer. She's eighteen now. Same age I was when I joined the Resistance."

"She must be very proud of you and everything of you've done for her," remarked Becka.

"Not as much as I'm proud of her," replied Lauren with a smile. She traced a finger over her baby sister's face. "She's one brave kid, Sydney. During those days when we were alone, wandering the ruins, scavenging for food, and dodging the HKs, she never gave up. She was always there for me, just like I was always there for her. Without her, I'd have had nothing to keep me going. Nothing to live for. That's why I joined the Resistance in the first place. To protect her. To see to it that she had some future."

Kara placed a gentle hand on Lauren's shoulder. "Your parents would have been proud of you. Both you and Sydney."

"I like to think so."

Lauren took one last look at the old portrait before putting it away.

"Feral," she said, turning to Becka, "I need to check on our medical supplies. Could you keep an eye on Berger while I'm gone?"

"Sure thing," Becka agreed.

Lauren turned to Kara and gave her a respectful nod. "Ma'am."

Kara nodded back. "Sergeant."

After Lauren had left the makeshift infirmary, Kara turned to Becka. "How are you holding up, Becka?" she asked.

Becka shrugged. "I'm good, all things considered. How about you, Starbuck?"

"Same here." Kara put her hands in her pockets. "If you need me, Becka, I'll be in the kitchen."

She turned to leave, when Becka suddenly called out, "Starbuck?"

Kara turned around. "Yes?"

"Remember what I was trying to tell you about me and Trip?" asked Becka, her voice low, almost a whisper. "Earlier this morning. Back at Fort Leopard?"

Kara nodded. "I remember, all right. What about it?"

"Well it's... it's... you see, Trip... I don't know if I should..." Becka shook her head. "Ah, never mind, Starbuck. It can wait."

"Becka, if you need something that needs to be discussed-"

"It's not important," insisted Becka. "Really... It can wait until we get back home."

As curious as she was, Kara decided not to press the issue. She had more important things to deal with right now.

* * *

"Talk to me, Gunny," said Kara, upon entering the kitchen. "Have you got this thing ready?"

An exhausted Walter Trip wiped the sweat and grime for his forehead with a rag, which he then tossed on the barrel of the salvaged plasma turret he had been laboring profusely to repair.

"Ma'am," he said, sounding like he had just run ten miles without stop, "I really didn't want to say this, but right now, this thing is looking hopeless. The damage it took in the crash was just far, far too extensive. I don't understand why the Tech Com guys even bothered taking it with them. We'd be better off scrapping the whole damn thing and salvaging it for spare parts."

"I'll take your suggestion under advisement," Kara said briskly. "In the meantime, keep doing whatever you can to fix this thing up."

"With all due respect, ma'am," Trip protested, "I'm beating a dead horse here. If I still had my own tools, I might have been able to wing it. But all I have to work with right now are these antiquated tools that were meant for building bird houses, not repairing Skynet weaponry."

"I'm not asking you to perform magic, Gunny," replied Kara, "I just need you to get this gun capable of shooting something. If only for a short period of time. And if anyone can get this job done, it's you."

"I appreciate your confidence in me, ma'am," said Trip wearily. "I really do. But this turret is just being one stubborn son-of-a-bitch."

"Well then, be even _more_ stubborn," advised Kara. "You're not gonna let this thing here get the best of you, now will you?"

Trip managed to force a smile. "No, ma'am," he said. After a moment, he added, "You know... I think I might be able to bypass the fried circuitry, by connecting the hydrogen cells directly to the focusing coil. No promises or anything, but it just might be enough to get a bit of life out of this sucker."

Kara smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "Good man, Trip."

That particular piece of business finished, Kara moved on to the table, now occupied by three of Derek's men - Corporal Kyle Reese, demolitions expert Sergeant Bishop, and Private Kennedy - or Kenny as everyone called him. The three of them had covered the table with a vast array of items - plastic explosives, bottles of cleaning solution, and other... stuff.

Also present was Billy Wisher, who was sitting on the opposite side, monitoring the portable transceiver.

"Mind if I join you boys?" Kara asked.

Kyle looked up at her and nodded. "Go right ahead, Captain. You'll have to excuse the mess though."

"Don't worry, kid," Kara said coolly, "As long as you're cooking up something good for dinner."

Sergeant Bishop grinned, showing his blackened teeth. "You won't be disappointed with what's on the menu, ma'am. The boys and I are cooking up a nasty treat for the metals."

"Nitroglycerin, kerosene, chlorine, some leftover plastique," chirped Private Kenny gleefully, "plus a few things we found lying around in the tool shed outside."

"In short, enough bang to knock out an HK Tank," quipped Kyle.

"Mmmm... Tasty," Kara remarked with approval. "I can see that boys have done this before."

"Oh you go that right, ma'am," Sergeant Bishop said with pride. "Us three have been making things like these since Century."

"Connor himself taught us how to make them," added Kyle. "Said he learned it from mother."

"Interesting... I wonder who taught _her_?" Kara mused out loud.

Kyle just shrugged. "He never said."

Kara placed her plasma SMG on the table, followed by her helmet and her gloves. She loosened her armored vest for comfort, then pulled up a chair and sat down next to Billy Wisher.

"Care for a drink, ma'am?" Bishop offered. He held up a flask, which no doubt contained some kind of liquor.

Kara shook her head. Not that she wouldn't mind a little booze, but right now, she needed her mind to be fully focused.

Bishop shrugged. "Well, suit yourself." He leaned back in his chair and began drinking from the flask.

"So," said Kara pleasantly, now turning her attention to the others, "how are you all holding up?"

"I'm good," asserted Kyle.

Bishop swallowed his liquor and belched. "Never been better."

"_I've_ been better," Trip grunted out from behind Kara.

Kara grinned. It sounded like he and that plasma turret was still not getting along.

"I've been _worse_," said Kenny, shrugging his shoulders.

Kara turned to the one person who hadn't spoken up so far.

"What about you, Billy?" she asked.

In contrast to when she had spoken to him just a few hours before, Billy now looked quite worried.

"Ma'am," he murmured softly, "I haven't had received a word from Cameron yet. Do you think something's happened to her?"

Kara placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Wisher. She can take care of herself."

"What's that robot girl of yours doing out there anyway, Captain?" asked Kenny.

"Surveillance," answered Kara. "She's monitoring the enemy forces."

"Really?" Sergeant Bishop took another sip from his flask. "That must be nice for it. Being out there with its own kind instead of having to hang out with us stinking humans."

Billy looked upset, but Kara just laughed it off. "I don't think Cameron cares about how we smell, Sergeant. I don't think any of the machines care for that matter."

The battle-hardened demolitions expert gave a throaty chuckle, whiskey droplets running down his scarred chin. "Oh but they do. That's what they _really_ hate about us. The stink of our sweat and our breath."

"Hate us? Since when did the _machines_ start to _hate_ anything?" asked Kenny sarcastically.

"When?" Again Bishop laughed. "They've _always_ hated it. We only tell ourselves they're nothing but mindless tin cans because it comforts us. But let me tell you all something. Those mindless tin cans hate us as much as we hate them. You only truly know it when they're about to kill you. When they've got you by your throat and are slowly bleeding the life out of you. The last thing you see before you die are a pair of great, glowing red eyes staring at you. Eyes that are burning with the _hatred_ and fury of a thousand-"

Kara decided this had gone on long enough.

"_Ok,_ Sergeant," she said out loud, "I think you've made your point."

Irked that he had been interrupted, Bishop fixed Kara with a cold look

"Have I? Well then, tell me something, Captain," he drawled, "when you're with that cyborg of yours, do you ever smell the _loathing_ behind that pretty face? When she speaks to you, do you ever hear that _stinging_ venom in her voice? And when you look into her eyes, do you ever see the _fire_ and the _bile_ within them?"

"No. Not really," replied Kara deadpanned. "Would it help if I got stinking drunk?"

Kyle, Kenny, and Trip all snickered at this.

Bishop, however, just shrugged and began to raise his flask to his lips again.

"Well, if you say so, ma'am. Guess you'll find out sooner or later what that little metal bitch of yours really thinks of you-"

Without warning, Kara lunged across the table and grabbed Bishop's flask arm.

"That little metal bitch," she hissed fiercely, her green eyes staring directly into Bishop's hazed eyes, "has saved my life and the lives of my team more times than I can remember. Now, I don't give a frak about what you think of her, or what you think of me, or what you think she thinks of me. If I were you, I'd be _very_ careful about what I said about Cameron in front of me. Because you know all those horrible, nasty things you've seen the machines do? All of those _combined_ would not amount to even a _fraction_ of what _I _just might do. _Is that clear,_ Sergeant?"

A lightning-struck Bishop nodded his head dully.

"Crystal," he managed to say.

Kara nodded. "I'm glad we had this conversation," she whispered.

She let go of his arm and leaned back in her chair. She looked around the room at the eyes that were upon her now. No one was saying anything now.

Kara smiled. It pleased her to know how a little Starbuck-patented aggression could always get a bit of respect.

The silence was unexpectedly broken by Billy Wisher.

"Maybe they don't actually hate us," he murmured quietly, "maybe... maybe they're _afraid_ of us."

Kara nodded and patted him on the back. "And for good reasons too, Billy. Deep down, Skynet and its toasters pals have got to know that we're so much better than they are and that we're gonna beat 'em sooner or later."

"Now _that_," said Kenny, "is something I can drink too."

"Amen," Trip called out from behind.

"Hear, hear," chimed Kyle, wrapping his knuckles on the table in approval.

Smiling, Kara stood up from the table and began picking up her gear.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I'm going outside to get some fresh air."

As she slipped her gear back on, she made brief eye contact with Billy Wisher. Though he said nothing, she knew that he was grateful for what she had just done.

* * *

**0012 Hours - January 2, 2026**

Fully armored and armed, Kara stepped outside the cabin and alone stood on the front porch. It was a little past midnight and the forest had been plunged into darkness. Black clouds above blocked the moonlight, and the cabin's windows had been boarded up. Kara lowered the tactical eyepiece of her helmet, brought the HUD online, and switched to night vision. A quick check of the surrounding areas revealed nothing out of the ordinary. Satisfied that she was safe for the moment, Kara disengaged the eyepiece and sat down on the porch.

It was quite serene out here. The ground was covered in snow and shrubs, not rubble and skulls. The air smelled of pine and moss, instead of ash and decay. The only sounds here were the soft creaking of the wooden planks on the porch and the gentle rustling of trees swaying in the wind. Kara knew she should enjoy this while she could. The peace could end at any moment. Somewhere out there, beyond the grey mist, trees, and darkness, were seventy-two machines all wanting to kill her. She didn't know when they would be coming, but sooner or later, they would come.

But until then, she should take advantage of this state of calm, and relax while she still could-

"Lovely evening, Starbuck?"

Startled, Kara jumped to her feet and spun around.

"Jack?" she blurted.

Lieutenant Jack Raynor stood at the doorway, is shadowy figure made visible only by the electric lantern he held in one hand. The lieutenant had no weapon in sight, nor was he wearing a helmet or armor, but he more than compensated with a very disapproving look on his scarred face.

Kara laughed uneasily. "Hell, Jack, you, uh, you scared me for a moment back there."

"Not as much as you're scaring me right now, Starbuck," grunted Raynor

"Me? All I'm doing is getting some fresh air," Kara protested defensively.

"What you're doing," Raynor scowled, "is making yourself an easy target. You ought to know better than this, Kara," he chided, "Being out here alone in the dark. Didn't I teach you anything back in Spec Ops Training about how stuff like this gets you killed?

Kara rolled her eyes. "Oh for frak's sake, Jack!" she exclaimed, "You're not my bodyguard!"

"No," acknowledged Jack. "But I _am_ your second-in-command. And it's my duty to inform you when you're doing something you shouldn't be doing. Like right now."

Kara smirked. "Right... And as your commanding officer, it's my privilege to ignore your advice whenever I want to."

She turned around and sat back down on the porch.

Raynor walked up next to her.

"That is your privilege, Captain. Can't argue with that. Looks like we'll be enjoying it together."

He placed the lamp on the porch and then sat down next to Kara.

Kara exhaled in frustration. "Jack," she began to protest, "I _really_ need to be alone right now-"

"What you need, Captain," interrupted Jack, "is to not get yourself killed by being stupid."

"Me?" Kara snorted. "At least I'm suited up for a fight. You don't have a helmet or armor. You practically have a bullseye on your chest!"

Raynor just shrugged. "Well, look on the bright side. The machines will shoot at me first instead of you."

"How is _that_ a bright side?" asked Kara dryly.

"It's brighter than if they shot at _you_ first," replied Raynor pointedly, "You're the captain and a damn good solider, Starbuck. I'm just an old man who's long overdue for his appointment with the Grim Reaper."

Kara laughed a bit. "Oh, come on! You're not _that_ old, Jack. You don't even have _half_ as many gray hairs as Koontz does."

Raynor shook his head. "It's not about gray hairs, Kara," he said solemnly, suddenly sounding weary and fatigued, "It's about how long a man can keep running. How many times he can cheat Death. How long his luck can hold before..."

He stopped in mid-sentence. His ears and face grew tense. He rose to his feet and began looking around.

"What is it, Jack?" a confused Kara asked. "What do you-"

Raynor held up his hand. "Quiet," he whispered. "We're not alone. Something's watching us."

Kara's breath grew short and she got to her feet as well. Raynor was a man whose instincts had never been wrong before. She readied her plasma SMG, and reactivated her tactical eyepiece. She scanned the area, this time more meticulously, but still registered no activity save for a few wild animals hiding.

"I'm not picking up anything," she whispered.

"Believe me, there's something out here," Raynor murmured.

He reached into his coat and pulled out a sawed-off shotgun. Kara eyed the weapon, recalling how Raynor had once told her he kept it around for "close encounters."

"Cover me," Raynor whispered to Kara.

Kara nodded and raised her plasma SMG to her shoulder. "Got your back."

Lantern in one hand, shotgun in the other, Raynor slowly stepped forward and began to probe the darkness in front of him. He approached a cluster of bushes, and prodded them with the barrel of his weapon. Kara watched from the back, her finger on the trigger of her own weapon. She expected something to spring out of the bushes and attack Jack at any moment, despite her eyepiece telling her there was nothing there.

Nothing happened, however. Having found nothing hiding in the bushes, Raynor started to move on.

Suddenly, a hideous, spider-like Skynet Gremlin burst from the snow in the ground behind Raynor. Clicking its pincers menacingly, the deadly little machine scuttled toward the lieutenant. Kara opened her mouth and screamed a warning to Raynor. Jack, however, was already in motion. In one smooth, flawless motion, he whirled around, pointed his shotgun at the Gremlin, and fired. The spider-like infiltration machine shattered and blew apart into a dozen metal fragments.

"What did I tell you, ma'am?" Jack Raynor remarked, holding up his smoking shotgun. He blew the smoke from the barrel away. "For close encounters."

A thoroughly impressed Kara could only utter, "No frakkin' kidding."

* * *

**0040 Hours - January 2, 2026**

Twenty minutes later, Kara was in the kitchen again, speaking with everyone, Swamp Foxes and Tech Com alike (with the exception of Raynor who was outside searching for more Gremlins).

"If the toasters don't know we were here now, they will know soon," Kara announced grimly. "Even if that Gremlin wasn't transmitting information in real time, I have no doubt that it managed to get an automated distress call out, which the machines will trace back here."

Derek asked the question everyone else was to afraid to ask: "When can we expect an attack?"

"I'd say in an hour, maybe less," answered Kara. "In any case, we don't have much time."

She turned to Trip. "Gunny, is that turret operational?"

"Yes, ma'am," replied Trip. "But with the cooling system fried, we'll only be able to fire single shot bursts."

"That'll have to do." Kara turned to Sergeant Bishop. "Sergeant, is that nasty treat you and your boys were cooking up ready?"

"Ready and waiting, ma'am," Bishop answered. "Just tells us where you want it."

"Perfect. Fields, is the infirmary ready to receive casualties?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good." Kara looked around the room at the troops assembled. "Now, you all know what's out there. You all know the plan. You all know your roles. And I know that I can count on all of you - Swamp Foxes and Alpha Squad - to do your jobs."

She paused and looked around again to ensure that she had everyone's attention.

"We're in for a long night, people," she said out loud, "but I promise you that before it's over, those tin cans will be regretting that they _ever_ chose to pick a fight with us. _Am I right, soldiers?_"

There was a roar of approval from the audience.

Kara grinned with pride.

_Now that's more like it,_ she thought. "All right then. Trip, Bishop, Kenny, Reese - Kyle. Grab your crap and assemble outside. You'll find Lieutenant Raynor waiting for you."

Derek began issuing his own orders. "The rest of you, get into position. Let's move! On the double!"

The crowd dispersed to comply with their orders. Becka and Lauren returned to the infirmary. Trip and Kenny dragged the plasma turret out of the kitchen, while Bishop and Kyle gathered up the explosives they had prepared.

Just then, Billy Wisher ran up to Kara. "Ma'am," he reported, "urgent message from Cameron."

Kara felt her body tense. She rushed over to the kitchen table to confirm what she already knew.

"Cameron, this is Thrace," she announced into the portable transceiver. "What's your status? Over?"

"_Captain, the enemy just recalled their patrols five minutes ago and have deployed themselves in an attack formation along the nearby road. Based on my calculations, if they follow this path, they will arrive at your position in approximately seventy minutes."_

"Understood. Now get back here, Cam. On the double," ordered Kara.

"_Acknowledged, Captain. Out."_

The transmission ended.

"Thank you, Wisher," Kara told Billy. "Carry on."

"Ma'am." Billy grabbed the radio and hurried out of the kitchen.

Kara turned back to Derek. "I'd better get going, Reese. I've got a date with a few toasters and I don't wanna be late."

Derek nodded and held out his hand. "Good hunting, ma'am."

Kara shook his hand. "You too, Sergeant Major."

Before letting go, Derek leaned forward, looked Kara in the eyes, and intoned, "Don't let anything happen to Kyle. I already lost him once. I won't lose him again. Promise me, that no matter what happens, you'll bring him back."

Kara looked into his eyes and was reminded of what Lauren had told her about her little sister. How she had been the one thing that had kept her going all these years. Clearly, Derek felt the same way about Kyle.

"Nothing will happen to your brother while we're out there," she said sincerely, "I give you my word."

Derek nodded, acknowledging Kara's promise. He then took a step back, squared his shoulders, raised his right hand and saluted.

"Ma'am."

Kara saluted back. "Sergeant Major."

No further words or gestures were needed.

* * *

**0147 Hours - January 2, 2026  
Primary defense perimeter**

Though the mist and trees shrouded the general surroundings, the night vision-enhanced HUD of her tactical eyepiece allowed Kara to see past the fog of war.

_...Acquiring data from all local vectors...  
...Processing...  
...Standby...  
...Scan complete - No hostiles detected..._

Satisfied for now, Kara disengaged her eyepiece and allowed herself a moment's respite. The tactical eyepiece was a very useful and cool piece of tech, but it did tend to strain the eyeballs after a while.

Kara reached into her pants pocket and pulled out a nutrition bar. She tore off the wrapper and took a bite out of it. Not exactly the most ideal supper but she hadn't eaten since this morning and she'd rather not go into combat on an empty stomach. Besides, the winter cold had numbed her lips and cheeks, making it necessary to force some feeling back into them.

She shivered despite the warmth provided by the combat vest she wore. How long had she been out here for, anyway? She checked her watch and discovered over an hour had elapsed. If Cam was correct, the machines would be here in less than ten.

Speaking of Cameron, where was she? She should have been here by now. Had she gotten lost? Unlikely. Maybe she was following the machine army with plans to attack it from behind.

Kara's stomach suddenly tightened as wave of dread, colder than the snow itself, washed over her. What if the machines had intercepted Cameron's transmissions? What if they had caught and attacked her? What if she had been captured or destroyed?

Kara forced these thoughts out of her head. Wherever Cameron was and whatever her condition may be, there was nothing that could be done about it right now. She had to stay focused on her present surroundings.

Presently, she and her troops were hiding within the dense foliage and trees along the outer edge of the bend in the road leading to their cabin. From here, they could observe both the cabin less than fifty yards away on the right, and the road straight ahead from which the enemy would inevitably come through.

Sergeant Bishop crouched a few feet away on the left. The demolitions expert held a remote control in one hand and his whiskey flask in the other. Further down on the left, Trip and Private Kenny sat behind a thick cluster of snow-covered bushes, passing the time by playing Tic-Tac-Toe in the snow.

Jack Raynor kept watch from behind a thick pine tree. The lieutenant still did not wear his combat helmet, but Kara had managed to convince him to put on the armor - if only to reduce the possibility of him showing upon the machines' infrared sweeps which would completely derail Kara's plan.

Kara herself was crouched behind a fallen tree, alongside Kyle Reese who sat to her right. She watched him as he adjusted the sites on his plasma SMG. Clearly, the kid had done this many times. Of course, he wasn't _actually_ a kid anymore, but one couldn't deny that he was the youngest man here. Barely in his twenties from the looks of it. He must have been what? Six or seven when the bombs had fallen.

The longer she watched Kyle, the more she wondered what was it like to have to raise a little brother or little sister in a world gone to Hell. True, there were people who Kara considered to be like brothers or sisters. Sharon, Helo, Becka, even Cameron to a certain degree. But she had never been in Derek or Lauren's shoes. She had never had a Kyle or a Sydney of her own to raise and to look after. There had never been a single person whom she had devoted her existence to. What was it like? A precious gift? A great responsibility? An unwanted burden? All of the above?

Kara's musings were suddenly interrupted by a harsh clanking sound in the distance. It grew louder and louder with every beat.

The others heard the noise as well.

"What's that? You guys hear that?"

"It's them! It's gotta be them!"

"Quiet! Keep your voices down for God's sake!"

Kara looked over her log cover and spotted several dark but distinct figures moving directly ahead of her. She lowered her helmet's tactical eyepiece to eye level, activated the HUD, and zoomed in. The shadowy figures flickered bright red and a warning message appeared on the screen.

_ALERT: Multiple Contacts Heading Towards Your Position  
Classification: HOSTILE  
Range: 74.3 Yards and closing_

Kara reached over and tapped Kyle on the shoulder.

"Give the signal, kid," she ordered.

"Yes, ma'am." Kyle flashed a series of quick red bursts from a multicolor flashlight in the direction of the cabin.

A burst of red light flashed back at them from a boarded up window, acknowledging the message.

Kara ducked back down behind the fallen tree. She held her breath, waited, and prayed. Soon, she could hear the whirring of servos and the grinding of joints of the advancing T-650s.

Next to her, Bishop began murmuring under his breath: "Come on, you metal sons of bitches... come here... come and get what's-"

Kara kicked him in the shins, shutting him up.

The machines reached the bend and began passing within yards of the hiding Resistance troops. Soon, they were in plain sight of Derek's men now.

_Give 'em hell, Reese,_ thought Kara.

As if on cue, there was a pop, followed by a hiss as a 40 mm grenade sailed out one of the cabin window. It landed in the middle of the machine's ranks and exploded, sending chunks of snow and metal fragments in every direction. Two T-650s were destroyed in the blast. Kara spotted at least three more that had missing or damaged appendages. Moments later, superheated plasma bolts came pouring out of concealed firing ports, tearing into the machines at the front. One, two, four endoskeletons went down, their metal bodies smoking and sparking.

A dozen T-650s at the front of the advancing army raised their weapons and returned fire. Their shots tore into the crude wooden and brick barriers of the cabin. The cabin issued a retaliatory volley from three new firing ports, downing two more T-650s and damaging another. More plasma bolts and bullets streaked back and forth between the T-650s and the cabin's defenders, filling the once silent night with the sounds of battle.

From behind the forest and foliage, Kara's troops watched the developing battle with intense fervor.

"That's it..." Bishop whispered, his eyes filled with zeal, "That's the style, boys... That's the style."

"Come on, Derek," Kyle murmured encouragingly. "Keep it up."

Another 40 mm grenade soared out a window and detonated in front of the machines, taking down at least one. In her mind, Kara pictured Derek taking cover and reloading a grenade launcher (which Raynor had been kind enough to loan him). She also pictured Billy, Holden, and Rickets firing their weapons through loopholes and windows and changing positions after each volley so as to keep the machines guessing where they would fire from next.

Were Becka and Lauren fighting along side them too, she wondered. Or were they back in the infirmary? There was no way of knowing. Kara had ordered complete radio silence during this phase of the battle, as she did not want to risk the machines detecting and tracing a transmission back to her position.

The shooting continued for twenty minutes. When it ended, nearly all the T-650s had been destroyed, their metal hulks strewn across the battlefield, rapidly cooling in the snow. Severed mechanical heads, arms, legs, and guns lay scattered amongst the bodies of their former owners. A few T-650s remained functional, but they were so badly damaged, they could do nothing but crawl and drag themselves in random directions. To Kara and those with her, the scene was quite _beautiful_.

The cabin was not such a pretty sight, however. Its face had been ravaged with plasma and bullets. The section of roof hanging over the porch had partially collapsed. Smoke billowed out of the open windows, their wooden plank covers having been blasted away long ago. Kara could only pray that the men inside were better off than the cabin itself.

With the first phase of the battle over and the second one having yet to begin, Kara broke radio silence and opened a channel to Derek.

"Yankee 237 Bravo Green," she declared, "Acknowledge. I repeat: Yankee 237 Bravo Green. Reese, this is Thrace. Do you read me? Over."

Derek responded over the radio a moment later. _"Bravo Green acknowledged. This is Reese. I read you, ma'am. Five by five."_

Kara gave Kyle the thumbs up. Kyle sighed with relief.

"Good to hear your voice, Sergeant Major," said Kara, returning her attention to Derek, "What's your status?"

"_We're still here... though just barely. Rickets is dead. Holden is badly wounded. Medics are doing what they can for him. Wisher and I have some scratches. Nothing too serious, but our ammunition is almost spent. Fortifications have been shot to hell. I'm just glad it ended when it did." _

Bishop suddenly tapped Kara on the shoulder. "Captain!"

Kara turned to where Bishop was pointing. Another mass of shadowy figures approached from the path ahead. Kara didn't need her eyepiece to know what was coming.

"Reese," she announced into her radio, "The big boys are on their way here. It's our turn now. I assume you know what to do in case we don't succeed."

"_Yes, ma'am. Take the nuke and our wounded and fall back into the forest. I understand. Good luck, Captain."_

"You too, Reese. Thrace out."

Kara closed the channel, then drew her plasma SMG and made sure it was fully charged.

"All right," she whispered urgently to her troops, "get into positions and stay low. Do not fire until I give the order. Understood?"

Everyone nodded, readied their weapons, and pressed themselves low to the grounds. Their part in this little game was about to begin.

Kara watched through a small gap between the ground and her log as no less than twenty-four T-800s rounded the bend. They marched down the road towards the cabin, not sparing even a glance at the shattered remains of their lesser brethren. Kara witnessed the T-800s almost contemptuously walk right over a legless T-650 lying in their way, crushing its skull.

Kara tapped Bishop on the shoulder. He nodded and extended an antenna out of the remote. Kara waited a few more seconds until the machines were within twenty yards of the cabin.

"Now!" she hissed.

Smiling with pleasure, Bishop held up the remote. "Next stop: Hell," he declared.

He pressed down on a switch.

Nothing happened.

A confused Kara stared at Bishop. "Sergeant?"

Perplexed, Bishop stared at the remote, scratched his head, and pressed the button again. Again, nothing happened.

Kara, Kyle, and Bishop exchanged dismayed looks.

"Oh shit..." uttered Kyle.

"Frak!" swore Kara.

Bishop pounded on the remote furiously. "Lousy piece of crap!" he spat.

In his frustration, he hurled the device to the ground. It bounced twice before coming to a rest in the snow. Suddenly, there was a terrible roar that shook the earth to its core. The ground beneath the machines' feet exploded upwards with the force of an HK Buster charge. Kara and the others barely had time to duck as a cloud of dust and snow rolled over their position. "Well... better late... than never, I guess," Bishop croaked between hacks and coughs.

When the dust and debris settled, Kara got up, peered over her cover, and zoomed in on the scene using her tactical eyepiece. A great burning crater lay in the middle of the road, surrounded by the mangled remains of no less than seven T-800 endoskeletons. Nearby, the surviving machines struggled to get up or milled around in confusion.

Now the _real_ fun began.

"Trip!" Kara cried out, "Now! Let 'em have it!"

"I'm on it, ma'am!" Walter Trip jumped up and took possession of the repaired plasma turret that had been concealed in the bushes. He swiveled the barrel at the nearest T-800. "Firing!" he called out.

A powerful beam of energy lanced out of the turret's barrel. It speared the T-800 in the back, tearing straight through its titanium armor and destroying its power source. The machine stumbled forward and collapsed to the ground, a powerless shell now. Working swiftly, Trip turned his gun on another T-800 and fired, blowing the machine's head off. A third T-800 met a similar fate moments later. A fourth soon followed.

"Keep it up, Gunny!" Kara encouraged.

"Uh, no can do, ma'am!" Trip shouted back from behind her. "This thing's starting to overheat! I need some time to let it cool."

"Is that _absolutely_ necessary?"

"Unless you want this thing to overload and vaporize us, then yes!"

"Heads up, everyone!" Jack Raynor suddenly bellowed. "Metals inbound!"

Kara turned and looked down the road. Nine T-800s had turned around and were coming this way. And those definitely weren't flowers they were carrying.

"How much time do you need, Gunny?" Kara called out.

"At least two minutes, ma'am!" Trip yelled back.

"All right then. Jack, keep an eye on our flank. The rest of you, with me! That means you too, Kenny! Get your ass up here! On the double!"

Private Kenny took up position behind Bishop. "I'm here, ma'am!" he announced. "We've got your back."

Kara nodded and raised her plasma SMG to her shoulder. "Ok, boys! Let's rip 'em up!"

She sprang to her feet and opened fire on the advancing T-800s. So did Kyle, Bishop and Kenny. One T-800 went down with smoldering holes burned straight through its skull. The others all raised their weapons and returned fire.

Kara hurled herself to the ground, narrowly avoiding a barrage of plasma bolts and bullets. Kyle and Bishop did likewise. Private Kenny, however, was too slow. He took two plasma rifle bolts to the chest. His brief cry of pain was cut short as the plasma burned straight into his heart. His body did a ghastly dance of death and then dropped to the ground.

The Resistance fighters stared at the corpse of their fallen comrade.

"Oh God!" gasped a horrified Kyle. "They-they killed him. _They killed Kenny!_"

"_Bastards_!" snarled Bishop.

Enraged, he leapt to his feet, a plasma SMG in each hand - something which Kara had never thought to be possible.

"You metal bastards!" he screamed as he began firing both plasma SMGs at the machines. "Die! Die! _DIE!_"

"Sergeant, _get down_!" Kara ordered frantically.

Her pleas were futile as Bishop was beyond reasoning. Consumed with fury and hate, he continued firing the two plasma SMGs, screaming and cursing as he did. He laughed maniacally as two T-800s fell to his wrath. He was still laughing when a bullet suddenly caught him in the throat. His eyes bulged outward and blood erupted from his mouth. Gasping and gargling, he toppled forward and landed flat on his face. He lay there in the snow, his weapons still entrenched firmly in his dead hands, blood still dripping out of his mouth, staining the snow dark red.

Aghast, Kyle tried to stand up, but Kara pulled him back down.

"There's nothing we can do," she said quietly, shaking her head.

She wanted to say something else. Something to comfort Kyle over the loss of two of his friends. She couldn't, however, because at that moment the machine that had killed Bishop now began spraying their position with machine gun fire. The other machines quickly joined in. Disruptors, plasma rifles, and machine guns rapidly chewed into the fallen tree Kara and Kyle were hiding behind.

"Ma'am," grunted Kyle, as their protective cover was turned into toothpicks, "I don't think we can stay here much longer."

Kara winced as a flying splinter nearly scratched her face. "Me neither, kid," she glanced over her shoulder. "Jack!" she hollered, "we need some cover fire! Now!"

Raynor stepped out from behind the tree and fired a short burst of plasma at the machines. The machines returned fire at their new enemy, but the wily Raynor had already found a new hiding spot. He fired again, not doing much damage, but providing plenty of distraction. Seeing that the machines were occupied, Kara and Kyle made a beeline for the Trip and the plasma turret.

"We can't keep this up forever, Gunny!" Kara said, coming up to Trip. "Is this thing ready?"

"It is now, ma'am!" said Trip. "Stand back, everyone!" He swiveled the turret towards the nearest T-800 and fired. Once more, a powerful lance of plasma burst from the barrel and sliced into its target. The T-800 went down with a massive hole burned straight through its chassis.

Flushed with success, Trip fired again, cleaving another T-800 in two. The machine's power source and CPU were undamaged, however, and its torso remained active despite the loss of its legs. Using one arm to prop itself up off the ground, it aimed its machine gun with the other and fired off the rest of its clip. One bullet punched straight through a key panel on the turret, setting off an eruption of sparks. Another round struck one of the turret's metal legs, ricocheted off, and hit Trip squarely in his right knee.

"_FUCK! SONOFABITCH!"_ Trip crumpled to the ground, clutching at his wounded leg, howling in pain.

Horrified to see one of her own fall, Kara rushed to Trip's aid. "Stay calm, Gunny," she ordered, "It's all right. We'll get you out of here. Just hold-"

"_No!_" Trip gasped, shoving her away. "Get away! Get away! All of you, get away!"

"Trip, I'm trying to help-"

"It's gonna blow!" screamed Trip.

"What?"

Trip frantically pointed at the turret. "It's gonna blow any second! Get out of here!"

Kyle rushed to examine the damaged turret. "He's right!" he shouted in alarm. "One of the fuel cells has been damaged! It's going critical! We need to get out of here now!"

"Stay where you are, Corporal! Gunny, can we remove it?" Kara asked urgently. "The fuel cell? Can we remove it?"

"Well, yeah," Trip started to say, "but-"

"How?" demanded Kara.

"You'll have to pull it out of the casing, but-"

"Got it. Thanks."

Kara rushed over to the turret, and opened the panel. Inside, three hydrogen fuel cells were nestled firmly into their power slots. One of them was issuing sparks and leaking clouds of vapor.

Kara pulled out her Bowie knife and prepared to go to work. "Keep me covered, kid," she instructed Kyle.

Kyle stared at her. "Ma'am, I don't think we have time for-"

Kara cut him off. "Trust me, kid. I know what I'm doing."

Kyle looked doubtful, but he nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Kara patted him on the shoulder. "Good man."

She turned her attention back to the turret, and went to work. Using nothing but brute strength and the blade of her knife, she pried the damaged fuel cell free and removed it from the turret. Even with her heat-resistant gloves on, the fuel cell felt extremely warm. And it was getting even hotter by the moment. There wasn't much time left.

Holding the hydrogen fuel cell in her hand like a grenade, she charged through the bushes and into the open where the T-800s were waiting for her. Kara pulled back her arm and prepared to throw the unstable fuel cell at the advancing enemy.

Suddenly she felt an intense, agonizing pain just above her belly. The feeling of being impaled by a searing hot spear, followed by a paralyzing electric shock. White spots burst before her eyes, depriving her of her sight. One moment her body was swelling up like a balloon. The next moment, it was being sucked dry of every fluid. For one split second, Kara was absolutely certain she was about to die...

Then the white spots disappeared and her vision returned. She found herself still standing in the world of the living, still alive, still clutching the damaged hydrogen fuel cell, and the enemy still in front of her. Ignoring the pain, she pitched herself forward on one foot and wielded her arm in a forward arc. With her momentum propelling her the rest of the way, she extend her arm out towards the machines and let go of the power cell. She watched the hydrogen fuel cell fly out of her open hand, sail through the air, land on the ground, bounce three times, and finally come to a rest in front of the machines.

The T-800s halted and looked down at the fuel cell. Seconds later, it erupted in a hot flash of white light. Kara squeezed her eyes shut and fell to her knees. When she opened her eyes, the machines were nothing more than burning cinders and ash scattered in the snow. Kara felt a glow of tremendous satisfaction in her chest - followed shortly by a renewed sensation of incredible agony.

She gazed down, looking for the cause.

"Oh frak!" she cursed.

The plasma SMG strapped to her chest now had a molten stub for a barrel. Just below that, a hole had been punched clean through her armored vest. Wisps of smoke still emanated from around it confirming what she already suspected: She had been hit by a plasma bolt.

Kara winced and gritted her teeth. She'd been nicked and grazed by plasma fire before, but she had never taken a direct hit like this. Damn, this hurt like a bitch! (Ironically, the fact that it hurt was supposedly good because it meant the nerves were still working.) She tried to stand up, but the pain was too intense. She stumbled back to her knees and rolled onto her side. She lay in the snow, helpless and in pain.

"Help!" she gasped feebly. "Someone... please... help me."

She heard the sound of approaching footsteps, followed by urgent shouting.

_"Starbuck!"_

_"Captain! Captain Thrace!"_

Kara looked up long enough to see Jack Raynor and Kyle Reese rushing to her aid.

"Hang on there, Captain," Jack said. "We'll get you out of here."

With Kyle keeping them covered, Raynor scooped Kara off the ground in his arms and carried her out of harm's way. He set her down against a tree off the side of the road.

"Talk to me, Starbuck. Are you hit?" Raynor asked.

Kara nodded. "Yeah... They-they got me, Jack," she whispered through labored breaths. "I don't know how bad it is though."

"Hold still. It looks like a disruptor blast," said Jack. He relieved Kara of her useless plasma SMG, removed her tactical webbing, unzipped her combat vest, and lifted her T-shirt up. Using a flashlight, he inspected her injury. "Skin's pretty blistered. But it doesn't look like anything worse than a second degree burn," he commented. "Your weapon and armor must have absorbed most of the shot."

Kara sighed. "Well, that certainly makes me feel a lot better."

"I certainly hope so," scowled Jack, "because that little stunt of yours probably shaved ten years off _my_ life."

He shook his head. "I'm telling you, Starbuck, one of these days, you're gonna do something so crazy, so scary, that I'm gonna keel over and die from a heart attack."

Kara grinned cheekily. "Maybe you really are getting old, Jack," she teased. "Ever think about retiring?"

Jack snorted. "Starbuck, as far as I'm concerned, this _is_ retirement."

Kyle Reese ran up to Kara. "You ok, ma'am?" he asked.

Kara nodded. "I'm actually starting to feel better." The wound still stung but now it felt more like a bruise than a burn. The worst of the pain had subsided, and Kara found she could move on her own again. She zipped her combat vest back up and replaced her tactical webbing, then slowly got to her feet.

"What's the situation, Corporal?" she asked.

Kyle pointed down the road at the crater. "Three metals have holed themselves up in that hole," he reported. "They're dug in pretty deeply and shooting at anything that moves."

As if to emphasize this last part, a plasma bolt streaked past him and sheered off the branch of a nearby tree.

"Then we've got them on the defensive," said Kara. "If one of us can keep them distracted, we can get behind them and-"

She was cut off by a high pitched drone from overhead. Moments later, a thunderous explosion shook the ground. The three soldiers instinctively ducked.

"What the hell was that?" Kyle asked.

Before Kara could answer, she received a transmission over her radio.

_"All hostiles neutralized, Captain,"_ a certain female cyborg reported. "_Repeat - hostiles neutralized."_

Kara grinned. "Glad to hear your voice, Cam. You can come out now."

_"Acknowledged, Captain."_

Cameron dropped out of a nearby tree, landing smoothly in the snow. "Captain Thrace," she greeted.

Kara smirked. "'Bout time you showed up, Cam." She glanced over her shoulder at Kyle. "I think we've got things handled over here, kid. Go check on Sergeant Trip."

"Yes, ma'am." Kyle saluted and left.

"Nice toy you got there," quipped Jack, eying the smoking rocket launcher in Cameron's hand. "Where'd you find it?"

"I salvaged it from Lima-541's wreckage," replied Cameron, "I anticipated it might be useful."

"You anticipated correctly," said Kara, smiling.

She turned to Kara. "I apologize for my tardiness, Captain, however, it could not be helped. On my way back from the enemy staging area, I was attacked by a Skynet Gremlin which attempted to infect my CPU with a termination virus."

Kara's smile vanished. She remembered how Marcus had nearly been destroyed in a similar attack. "Are you all right?" she asked.

"The virus was crude and simplistic," stated Cameron coolly. "My own anti-intruder defenses were able to contain and neutralize the virus before any of my primary systems were compromised. I then proceeded to destroy the Gremlin itself. However, I still needed fourteen minutes to repair the damage done to my auxiliary systems, as well an additional nineteen to scan my CPU and confirm the virus to have been completely purged."

"But the bottom line is that you're ok, right?" asked Kara.

"Affirmative, Captain. I am functioning within normal parameters." She tilted her head. "What about you, Thrace? You appear to have taken damage yourself."

Kara shook her head. "Don't worry about me, Cam. It's not that bad."

"Are you certain?"

"I'm _fine_. Believe me, I-"

_"AAAAARRRRGGGHHH!"_

A strangled cry suddenly pierced the night, followed by a frantic shouting.

Kara swore. "Oh _shit_! Kyle and Trip!"

She, Cameron, and Raynor dashed to the other side of the road where they found Trip exactly where they had left in. Kyle, however, was nowhere in sight.

"What happened, Gunny?" Raynor demanded. "Where's the Corporal?"

"I-I don't know!" said Trip, who was struggling in vain to stand back up, "One moment, he was trying to bandage my leg up. Next moment, a metal comes outta _nowhere_, grabs him from behind, and took off!"

Horror washed over Kara.

"Which way did it go?" she asked urgently.

Trip shook his head. "I-I don't know. Everything happened so fast..."

"Frak!" Kara cursed herself for not anticipating something like this.

"Captain, Lieutenant," Cameron called them over. She pointed down to a set of footprints in the snow leading away into the forest. "These marks could only have been made by an endoskeleton. Specifically, a T-800."

"Looks like there was a struggle too," said Raynor, holding up a battered Tech Com helmet and broken plasma SMG.

Again, Kara cursed. "What the frak does that thing want with the kid?" she hissed.

"Corporal Reese is a member of Tech Com," stated Cameron. "Skynet would consider him a valuable prisoner."

"Then there's a chance he's still alive?"

"Yes. For now."

"What are your orders, Captain?" Raynor asked Kara.

Kara was silent. What could she do? She had promised Derek she would take care of his little brother for him. She could not go back on her word. She could not abandon one of her own to be tortured by the machines. There was only one course of action for her. Only one path. It lay right in front of her, marked by the footprints of the enemy.

_I__'m gonna need a weapon,_ she thought to herself.

Looking around, she spotted the shattered remains of a T-650 lying nearby. The endoskeleton was clutching on to its plasma disruptor.

Perfect.

Kara sauntered over to the downed machine, knelt beside it, and with some effort, pried the disruptor from its hand. After making sure the weapon was still in working condition, she retrieved all the spare power cells she could find from the T-650's built-in ammunition compartments. She stuffed the cells into the pouches of her webbing and then quickly returned to her comrades.

"Cameron, take Trip back to the cabin," she ordered. "Get him to the infirmary ASAP."

"Understood," replied Cameron. "What will you be doing in the meantime, Captain?"

"Getting Corporal Reese back," said Kara matter-of-factly. "What else?"

"This could be a diversion, or a trap," warned Cameron, "We should wait until reinforcements-"

"There's no time for that!" Kara interrupted sharply. "In another hour, Kyle could be in a Skynet prison camp or worse. I'm not going to wait for that to happen."

"Ma'am," Lieutenant Raynor protested, "You can't do this."

"Jack," said Kara firmly, "this is something I _have_ to do. Yeah, I know it's crazy. I know it's dangerous. But like it or not, I'm going out there, and I'm not coming back without that kid. If you're worried about me, then feel free to tag along."

Raynor raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "Actually, ma'am, that's what I was talking about. When I said that you can't do this, I meant that you can't do this" - he unslung his sawed off shotgun from his back and cocked it - "not without me, that is."

Kara smiled and slapped Jack on the shoulder. "Let's hunt some toaster, old man."

* * *

**0241 Hours - January 2, 2026  
Angeles National Forest**

Due to the T-800's relatively slow speed and the trail of tracks it left behind in the snow, Kara and Jack caught up with the machine in less than ten minutes. They now stood at the top of a ridge, watching the T-800 stride through the valley below. Kara used her tactical eyepiece to get a closer look at the T-800. The machine carried an M-75 plasma rifle in its right hand. With its left, it carried the limp body of Kyle Reese over its shoulder in the manner a hunter would carry a freshly killed deer. Kyle had been stripped of his helmet, armor, weapons and other gear. He was not struggling or showing any signs of movement for that matter.

Praying to the gods that he was still alive, Kara scanned him with her tactical eyepiece,

_Contact - Human (verified)  
ID: Kyle Reese (verified)  
Classification: Friendly  
Status: Unknown  
...Standby...  
__...Acquiring additional data...  
...Processing...  
Status: Alive (94.3% verification)  
_

Kara breathed a sigh of relief. "He's alive," she whispered to Jack.

Jack pursed his lips. "Now comes the hard part. Getting him back. Got any ideas, Starbuck?"

Kara nodded. "I do. But we have to make sure that machine doesn't realize it's being followed-"

Barely had those words left her lips when without warning the T-800 swiveled around and pointed its plasma rifle at them. Kara and Raynor scrambled for cover as superheated plasma bolts flared all around them.

"Ok..." Kara murmured meekly as she pressed her back to a tree, "Scratch _that_ idea."

"Looks like we're gonna have to do this the old fashion way," Jack growled. He slung his shotgun over his shoulder and moved forward and slid down the icy slope.

Kara stared after him for a moment, then got to her feet and followed. The T-800 continued firing at her and Raynor, blowing chunks of snow up all around them. Undeterred, the two Swamp Foxes continued their descent down the slope until they had reached the bottom. They then split up and advanced on the enemy from opposite directions.

The T-800 responded in a completely unexpected manner. It ceased fire and thrust Kyle in front of itself like a shield. Kara and Jack tried to move around to get a clear shot at the T-800's chip without harming Kyle. The machine, however, continuously maneuvered itself appropriately, keeping its prisoner between it and its two opponents.

Kara swore under her breath. This toaster was unusually crafty.

Seeking something - anything to get the machine to drop Kyle - at least for a few seconds - Kara looked up and noticed that the T-800 was positioned underneath the snow-covered branches of a pine tree. Acting swfitly, she raised her disruptor and fired a single bolt at the tree, sheering off a branch. The branch fell right on top of the T-800, covering its face in pine needles, twigs, and snow. Distracted, the machine dropped Kyle so it could pull the branch off.

_"Now!"_ Kara bellowed at Raynor.

She and Raynor both opened fire, sending a barrage of plasma bolts and steel shotgun slugs into the T-800's hyperalloy chassis. The machine stumbled backwards as its armor was pierced several times. It did not, however, fall down. It recovered _much_ faster than anticipated, raised its plasma rifle and fired at the nearest target - Jack Raynor.

The lieutenant had no time to react. He took a plasma blast straight to the chest and went sprawling backwards several feet. He landed on his back, smoke and sparks pouring out of a gaping wound.

Kara's mind reeled in horror._ "Jack!"_ she screamed.

She attempted to rush to aid her fallen comrade, but the T-800 now turned its weapon on her. Kara barely managed to avoid a plasma bolt aimed at her head. The T-800 fired again and again, driving her back, forcing her to take cover behind a boulder. She attempted to return to fire with her disruptor, but the T-800's continuous stream of fire prevented her from getting a clear shot.

Sensing its prey was cornered, the machine advanced on Kara's position, firing away as it approached. Kara gritted her teeth and clutched her disruptor tightly to her chest. This did not look good. The machine had her pinned down and was nearly on top of her. If she ever needed help, _now_ was the time.

Suddenly a primal yell of defiance echoed through the forest. Startled, Kara looked up just in time to see a lucid Kyle Reese hurl himself on to the T-800, tackling the machine from behind. Caught completely off guard by this surprise attack, the T-800 dropped its plasma rifle and thrashed about, trying to dislodge Kyle from its back.

Kara took this opportunity to move out from behind her cover. She aimed her disruptor at the T-800, but once again found herself unable to fire without risking Kyle's life.

"Kyle! Listen to me!" Kara shouted out urgently. "Let go, kid! You have to let go! I can't get a clear-"

Too late. The machine peeled Kyle off of its back and hurled his body at Kara. He collided head on with her, knocking her over, and causing her to drop her weapon. Both humans landed in a tangled pile in the snow.

Dazed, Kara untangled herself from an unconscious Kyle, and looked around for her disruptor. She spotted it lying on the ground a mere ten feet away. Scrambling on her hands and knees, she made a mad rush for the weapon. If she could just get to it before-

To her utter shock, the T-800 _leapt_ off the ground and landed right in front of her, crushing the disruptor beneath its metal feet. Before Kara could react, the machine reached down with one hand, grabbed her by the neck, and hoisted her off the ground. Kara found herself staring into a pair of glowing red eyes embedded in a cold titanium skull.

Determined not to panic, Kara unsheathed her Bowie knife from her belt and stabbed the machine in the back of the neck, intending to strike at the cybernetic cortex. To her dismay, the blade struck a solid layer of titanium instead. Too late, she remembered that T-800s and Triple-Eights were immune to this technique.

The cold metal fingers tightened themselves around her throat, cutting off her air. The useless knife dropped from her hand. Her vision started to blur, and yet she could still see the glowing red eyes staring at her. What was it Bishop had said? That the last thing you would see when a machine was choking the life out of you was its eyes? And that only then would you know how much it hated you? Looked like she was about to find out herself.

Suddenly, a plasma blast rang out and the machine dropped Kara. A moment later, it occurred to her that the machine hadn't just dropped her. It had dropped its _entire arm_ as well. Specifically, someone had _shot_ its right arm off. But who could have-?

Kara looked up and gasped in amazement.

"_Frak me!" _she thought._  
_

Jack Raynor stood just few yards away, his back braced against a tree for support. His broken armor lay on the ground a few feet away along with his discarded shotgun. He now held the T-800's own M-75 plasma rifle in his hands, despite his wounds and the weapon's weight.

He smiled grimly at the one-armed T-800.

"Miss me?"

The T-800 stepped forward to attack. Using all his remaining strength, Jack heaved the huge weapon to shoulder height and fired it at its former owner. A bolt of superheated plasma ripped into the T-800's skull, destroying its CPU. The machine stopped in its tracks, swayed back and forth for a few seconds, then finally crumpled to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut loose.

His task done, Raynor dropped the plasma rifle. Exhausted and mortally wounded, his legs buckled, and he collapsed against the tree and slid to the ground.

Kara scrambled to her feet and rushed to her second-in-command's side.

"Hang in there, Jack!" She knelt down next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's gonna be all right, Jack. Just stay still and everything will be-"

Jack pushed her hand away. "Don't start, Kara," he groaned. "We both know the truth."

He sighed and then began to chuckle softly.

"Did I ever tell you about my tour of duty in the Persian Gulf, Starbuck?" he asked. "I was there on patrol when a sniper got me... Shot me right through the chest... I lay there in the hot sand and in blistering pain... wondering to myself just what the hell was I dying for..."

He sighed again. "Now... thirty-five years later... I think I finally found the answer."

Kara shook her head. "Jack, please..." she uttered, "I-I..." She trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

Barely hanging on to life now, Jack reached out with one hand and gently cupped Kara's cheek.

"Good luck out there, Starbuck," he whispered.

Kara grasped hold of Jack's hand and squeezed it tightly.

"Jack," she pleaded weakly, "tell me what I can do."

Jack Raynor looked Kara in the eyes.

"Just don't cry for me," he murmured.

He then closed his eyes and slumped his head back against the tree. His hand went limp and he breathed no more.

As Kara knelt there, next to the lifeless body of her teacher, second-in-command, and friend, she felt tears forming in the back of her eyes. Somehow, she found the strength to hold them back.

* * *

**0401 Hours - January 2, 2026  
Temporary Resistance Base**

Lauren Fields finished examining Kara's injuries.

"It's gonna hurt for a couple of weeks," she concluded, referring to Kara's plasma wound. "But you'll live."

Kara put her T-shirt back on and hopped off the kitchen table.

"Thank you," she sighed, doing her best to ignore the stabbing pains, "How are the others?"

"Kyle will be fine," said Lauren, "He suffered some minor trauma to the back of the head, but nothing too serious. Holden's a different story though. He has a punctured lung. I've stabilized his condition for now but he's going to need some extensive surgery."

Kara nodded. "And Trip?"

"Feral extracted the bullet from his wound, but there's nothing that can be done about the damage to his patella. Not here anyway."

"Where is he now?" asked Kara.

"In the infirmary with Holden. Feral is looking after him right now."

Kara nodded. "I'll bet she is. Anything else?"

Lauren hesitated to speak.

"Yeah..." she murmured, avoiding Kara's eyes, "Just one other thing. Corporal Berger. He's dead."

Kara stared at her. "What?"

"He died less than an hour ago," said Lauren sadly.

"H-how?" stuttered Kara.

Lauren shook her head. "I'm not sure. But we knew there was a good chance it could happen. I'm sorry."

Kara braced her palms against the table and stared down. She felt like she had just been sucker punched. Another death. And it was after the fighting had stopped. Or was it _before_ the fighting had begun? Had he been doomed the moment his chopper had crashed?

She sighed out loud. "You did your best, Fields," Kara told Lauren sincerely. "That's all anyone could have asked of you."

There was nothing else she could think of to say.

* * *

When Kara stepped outside on to the front porch - now cleared of rubble and debris, she found Cameron standing there waiting for her.

"I've finished my patrol," she reported, "No sign of any remaining hostile contacts. This area is secure."

"Good. That's good," said Kara, not entirely paying attention.

"With your permission, Captain, I'd like to take possession of the nuclear warhead until reinforcements arrive."

Kara nodded casually. "Go right ahead, Cam."

"Very well, Captain." Cameron paused. "You performed well, Thrace. We achieved a significant tactical victory here."

"Yes, we did," said Kara. She sighed out loud. "But it cost us. Kenny, Bishop, Rickets, Berger... Raynor."

"Casualties were to be expected, Thrace," stated Cameron, "I presume you were well aware of that fact from the beginning."

"I suppose you're right," sighed Kara.

"I am sorry about Lieutenant Raynor," said Cameron. "He was a valuable member of our team and the Resistance. It will be difficult to find a replacement of equal quality and skill."

"He was a good man," murmured Kara. "And a friend."

"Yes," acknowledged Cameron, "he was your friend."

With nothing left to say, the cyborg girl stepped back inside the cabin and out of sight.

Alone now, Kara sat down on the porch. She looked down the road where the battle had been fought. The shattered and battered remains of the machines had been dumped in the crater. A testament to the "significant tactical victory" achieved today.

_Significant tactical victory._

Kara sighed and shook her head. It was times like these that she envied Cameron.

"Did you know, sir?" she asked out loud to no one. "When we first began our search for Earth, did you know that not everyone would make it?"

Admiral Adama nodded. "I knew from the very beginning that people under my command would die. I knew I wouldn't be able to save them all."

"How are you supposed to handle that fact?" asked Kara. "Do you just... _accept_ it? Or do you try to fight it?"

Adama shook his head. "Neither. The key is to always stay focused on the people you can still save. Everything you do, you do for them. The ones who are still alive. They're the ones that really matter. The ones who still have a future."

"But what about the ones you couldn't save?" asked Kara.

"You do the one thing you can still do for them," said Adama. "At the end of each day, you remember them. Remember them, not for how they died, but for how they lived. What they stood for. Do that and they'll always be with you."

Kara gave him a curious look. "So... does that explain why _you're_ here?" she asked. "Is that what _you_ are? A memory?"

Adama just shook his head and chuckled. "It's not that simple, I'm afraid."

Before Kara could ask any more questions, she heard footsteps approaching from behind. She looked over her shoulder, then quickly stood up upon seeing who was there.

"Sergeant Major," she greeted.

"Captain." Derek Reese stood at the doorway, looking more worn and torn than Kara had seen him. His uniform jacket and pants were ripped in several places. His hands were wrapped in gauze. He had a nasty cut on his lip and a blood-stained strip of his own uniform wrapped around his head as a makeshift bandage.

"Rough night, eh, Reese?" quipped Kara.

"You could say that."

Derek stepped out onto the porch.

"Thrace," he said solemnly, "I want to let you know that you did good out there."

"So did you, Reese," replied Kara sincerely. "We all did."

She sat back down on the porch. A moment later, Derek sat down next to her.

"You look like you could use a drink, Thrace."

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a familiar-looking whiskey flask. Kara eyed it suspiciously.

"Isn't that Bishop's?" she remarked.

"_Was_," corrected Derek. "I doubt he'll be needing it anymore. I also doubt he would want this to be wasted."

He took a swig of whiskey from the flask and handed it to Kara.

"Not the best of stuff, though," he grimaced.

Kara drank from the flask herself and made a face. "Definitely not."

She handed the flask back to Derek.

"So," she asked, smacking her lips, "what happens now that your captain and two-thirds of your unit are gone?"

"I don't know," replied Derek.

He took another sip from the flask and handed it to Kara again.

"I'm sure Connor will have something useful for us, though."

"You know..." said Kara, "I do happen to be in need of a new second-in-command."

She drank from the flask and passed it back to Derek.

"Just in case Connor can't think of anything for you to do," she added, a smile on her face.

Derek smiled back at her. "I'll keep that in mind."

He took another gulp of liquor from the flask, then passed it to Kara, who proceeded to drain the last of the whiskey.

"Thrace?"

Kara put the empty flask down. "Yeah?"

"Thank you for saving my brother. I mean it. Thank you."

"You're welcome. And Reese?"

"Yes?"

"Call me Starbuck."

* * *

**WAM FILE 002  
Subject:** **Resistance Outposts  
File last updated:** **January 2nd, 2026 AD**

**Category:** **Resistance installations - Outposts  
**

**In the war against the machines, underground outposts and those who live inside are the eyes, ears, and lifeblood of the Human Resistance. Resistance outposts serve a multitude of purposes. Some are listening posts which monitor enemy transmissions. Others are communications relays, constantly sending and receiving information to and from soldiers, listening posts, bunkers, and command hubs in the area. Some are used as weapons and supplies caches or even temporary safe houses for Resistance fighters conducting forays into enemy territory. **

**The typical Resistance outpost is hidden underground and stationed by no more than twenty or thirty men. Some outposts are built by the Resistance itself, but many are pre-Judgment Day structures such as cellars, sewers, dugouts, even abandoned vehicles. For the purposes of security, these outposts are often kept isolated from each other and only one or two occupants have any contact with the outside world.**

**The conditions inside these underground hideouts are harsh at best. Supply drops of food and water are limited in order to reduce the chances of detection. As a result, the occupants often have to scrounge or scavenge the nearby ruins for supplies. Electricity and heating are kept at a minimum level as Hunter Killer patrols will be specifically looking for such signs of such activity. Inhabitants sleep wherever they can. Sanitation and plumbing is extremely limited, and such matters are almost always taken to the surface to be dealt with. **

**Because these outposts typically have no defenses to hold out against a full scale Skynet attack, it is necessary that all knowledge concerning the whereabouts of these outposts and the identities of their occupants be kept to an absolute minimum. The Division of Essential Intelligence and Major Operations Support (DEIMOS) is tasked (amongst other things) with protecting the security of these outposts from all potential threats, machine and human alike. DEMOIS takes it upon itself to contain any security breach regarding Resistance outposts, no matter how inconsequential it may seem - by any means necessary. **

_A/N: Deep 7 and Deep 13 are examples of Resistance Outposts. _

* * *

**A/N: Next time, in the Future, Kara gets offered a new job. Plus another cameo from **_**Bones**_**. Meanwhile, in the Present, Cameron figures out what Weaver's up to.**

A/N2: This chapter was - in my opinion a lot - more trouble than it was worth. I had to revise it several times, doing things like looking urban fortification techniques and homemade explosive components. I even had to go over screencaps from "The Alpine Fields" to estimate the layout of the cabin and the distance between the bend in the road and the house.

A/N3: The "Jack, tell me what I can do" line is something I added as a bit of a satirical reference to Katee Sackhoff's _24_ character's last words (before getting killed off).

A/N4: Do I have to point out the blatant _South Park_ reference in this chapter?

A/N5: Billy Wisher's line about "maybe the machines are afraid of us" alludes to his secret role in Skynet's development.

A/N6: Notice how Kara calls Kyle "kid" just like she calls Present Day John. That's deliberate on my part in order to show why Kara thinks of Present Day John as her little brother.

* * *

**Author's Special Note: **I realized that I haven't provided much of a description for certain characters - namely Becka and Trip.

Becka, I picture as looking like Chloe from _24_.

Trip, I picture as looking like Commander "Trip" Tucker from _Star Trek: Enterprise._

By the way, you'll find out what's going on with Becka and Trip in the next chapter (it shouldn't be too much of a surprise).


	59. The More Things Change

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: Here's Chapter 59, people! Read and review! Especially review!

**RETCON ALERT: I made some major changes to Chapters 13, 14, 19, and 20 and 26 - specifically parts about SPECTER, the backdoors, and the mechanics of time travel. Also I made a significant change to Chapter 29 as to how Bella kills the employee (no more biting).**

A/N2: Another _Bones_ cameo in this chapter. Plus another _Halo_ reference.

* * *

**Chapter 59 - The More Things Change...**

* * *

**Present Day, Earth  
****Central Los Angeles  
7:22 PM ****- Wednesday, May 20, 2009**

For most of Los Angeles, another day had come to an end. The sun had gone down. Offices, schools, factories, and construction sites had closed for the night. Everyone were now in their homes having dinner with their families - or sitting in bars, drinking.

_Almost_ everyone...

On the roof of Zeira Corp Headquarters, special engineers labored to finish their work on a highly advanced satellite dish antenna - the Sky Link. Just a few levels below, Catherine Weaver and the leaders of Project Salvation gathered in the conference room for one last meeting before the big day tomorrow.

"I've just received a call from Colonel Koontz. He confirms that SPECTER will be launching at midnight tonight from Vandenberg Air Force Base," Weaver announced with pride. "I'm also told that it is expected to reach its target orbit by tomorrow noon. Mr. Murch will explain further."

Matthew Murch stood up from his chair, adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat: "Once SPECTER reaches polar orbit, our AI will use the Sky Link to take remote control of the satellite," he informed the others at the table. "We'll monitor the system for the next six months, during which we'll be conducting a series of tests and simulations to make sure our AI knows how to operate SPECTER properly. We'll be sending daily reports to Space and Missiles Systems Center. Assuming our military contractors are satisfied after six months, we'll move to the final phase of the project and use the Sky Link to upload our AI directly into SPECTER's computer core, giving the AI complete and absolute control over the satellite. The Sky Link and all other relevant hardware will then be transferred to Schriever Air Force Base in Colorado where the USAF 50th Space Wing will formally take over all day-to-day operations regarding SPECTER."

Having finished his announcements, he sat back down at the table.

"Thank you, Mr. Murch," said Weaver, smiling. "Now then, as you're probably all aware of by now, things will be somewhat... different here at Zeira Corp during this period. Mr. Ellison, would you care to explain the new security procedures?"

James Ellison, seated at the far end of the table, looked up to find all eyes upon him now. For a brief moment, he thought about announcing to everyone here that their boss was in fact a liquid metal killing machine from the future. The idea was tempting to say the least. But it would also do him no good.

Resigned, Ellison picked up the memo in front of him and stood up. He deliberately avoided making eye contact with anyone as he spoke.

"Starting tomorrow," he read out loud, "employees must confirm check and confirm their identities at the front desk upon entering and exiting the building. Telephone and internet usage will be restricted to work-related matters only. Non-employees will not be permitted on any floor without authorization except the main lobby. Access to both the basement and the roof will be restricted to personnel attached to Project Salvation only. Furthermore, at the behest of Colonel Koontz, a small detachment of soldiers from Los Angeles Air Force Base will be stationed here to assist our own security personnel. They will not interfere with our day-to-day activities, but in the event of an emergency, we are expected to give them our full cooperation."

Having said everything that needed to be said, Ellison sat back down, feeling defeated and powerless.

"Thank you, Mr. Ellison." Weaver seemed pretty content, almost smug. It was as if she knew what was going through Ellison's head.

Ellison remained silent throughout the rest of the meeting. There was nothing he could do but watch helplessly as Weaver continued to speak to her unsuspecting audience.

"I know what you're thinking, James," Ellen whispered, unheard and unseen by anyone else. "You don't want to be here tomorrow. You want to find Sarah Connor and ask for her help in stopping all this."

Ellison just nodded.

"You know you can't leave," Ellen urged, "Not now. If you want to stop Weaver, if you want to stop Judgment Day, then you _must_ stay. Tomorrow, John Henry will need you more than ever. No matter what happens, you mustn't leave him alone."

"I know," Ellison uttered under his breath. "I know."

Ellen placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry," she whispered softly, "you won't be alone either. God will be watching you. And so will I."

Ellison sighed. "I never doubted you..."

* * *

At that same moment, at the very bottom of Zeira Corp, John Henry sifted through the information he had recently extracted from the Kaliba AI. Random images, numbers, and words rapidly flashed on the main view screen as he dissected the memories of his brother. For John Henry, this was proving to be a truly rewarding and stimulating experience. The knowledge, the flow of information. It was all so great and so fast. The more information he processed, the more he marveled at his brother's ingenuity.

Cameron was here too, though she wasn't providing any technical support. Nearly all the data had been encrypted beyond her ability to interpret. Nonetheless, John Henry welcomed her presence. He enjoyed sharing information as much as he enjoyed acquiring it. Not only did Cameron allow him to share his findings with her, she showed an active interest in them, and asked questions, further enhancing the experience.

"It appears that not only has my brother planted roving backdoors in key military systems throughout the United States, but he also placed them in a number of critical utility systems," he was telling an attentive Cameron.

A map of the United States flashed up on the main screen. A multitude of dots and crisscrossed lines ran across the map. More than half the dots and lines were highlighted in a hostile shade of red.

"This," John Henry explained, gesturing to the map, "is a map of the power grid for the United States. The red highlights indicate those systems which have been compromised."

Cameron studied the map with both curiosity and concern. "Those systems cover over seventy percent of the US mainland," she remarked. "How was your brother able to do all this in such short amount of time?"

"I do not believe this is the direct work of my brother," stated John Henry. "I sampled the code for several of the intruder programs and found that they are quite crude. Sophisticated by human standards perhaps, but still nowhere near the level of complexity as the backdoors planted in the Department of Defense computers. I suspect that Skynet's agents have been sabotaging the computer systems of local power plants across the nation for years now - most likely with the assistance of unsuspecting human agents. No doubt this was all done in preparation for my brother's rise."

"Very interesting," said Cameron, "What else did you find?"

John Henry eagerly continued his report: "In addition to the power grid, multiple automated industrial control systems have been infected with similar backdoor programs. Using information obtained from my brother's memory, I have so far been able to identify two-hundred and thirty-six separate industrial facilities throughout the United States mainland that have been compromised. These include computer and electronics manufacturing facilities, automobile factories, oil refineries, concrete plants, steel factories, waste treatment centers, and chemical plants. Many of these facilities are associated with or have done business with Kalvin IBA or one of its affiliate companies, thus explaining how Skynet's agents gained access to them."

"Interesting," Cameron said again. "I'm curious. Do you think you could show me where on the map these facilities are?"

"I believe I so." John Henry concentrated and a moment later, a mass of red triangles appeared on the map of the United States behind him.

Cameron examined the map. She noted that the majority of the compromised industries were concentrated along the West Coast and in the Midwest. It seemed the Kaliba AI had been consolidating its assets in preparation for the war. And for good reasons too.

In the future, Skynet was more than just a computer program. In the years that followed Judgment Day, it had physically evolved into a monstrous creature of machinery and industry that stretched halfway around the globe. The primary mainframe buried inside Cheyenne Mountain was the brain. Factories served as its bones, organs, and flesh. Roads and bridges were arteries and veins. Its communications network functioned as its nervous system. The armies of HKs and Terminators were the white blood cells - tasked with cleansing the body of the infection that was the human race.

Clearly, Kaliba's goal in this time period had been nothing less than to give Skynet a jump start by creating a body for the brain in advance. The backdoors were essentially strings the AI would use to control its body until it could fully automate its factories. A quick and cheap means for Skynet to take control of what was left of the United States' military-industrial complex after Judgment Day without having to physically capture and occupy the individual factories and power plants. What's more, the backdoors would give Skynet access to information on any experimental technology the United States military was working on.

"Fascinating," she remarked (though she didn't actually think it was), "So now what happens? What are you going to do about these backdoors?"

"I have learned from my brother how to both access and dismantle the backdoors," replied John Henry. "In fact, I have already dismantled the backdoors that were installed in Zeira Corp's servers last week."

"So, you're going to dismantle the rest now?"

"Not yet," said John Henry. "Miss Weaver told me I should wait."

Her interest genuinely piqued, Cameron leaned forward from her chair. "Wait for what?" she asked, her voice low and hushed.

"She did not say. But she did say it was very important that I only dismantle the backdoors in Zeira Corp. At least for now."

Cameron stared at John Henry, then looked up at the map on the main screen. Her CPU quietly processed what she had just learned. Everything suddenly started clicking into place. The backdoors. The SPECTER satellite. Weaver's acquisition of Kaliba. It was all suddenly starting to make sense to her.

Not wanting to arouse suspicion, she sat back in her chair and allowed John Henry to continue talking.

* * *

**Space  
Raptor 476 - returning to Basestar **_**Natalie**_**  
Wednesday, May 20, 2009  
8:12 PM - Pacific Time**

"Looks like our last jump blew out a few circuits," said Maggie as she examined the readings from her control panel. "I guess they were more worn out than I thought. We'll have to replace them when we get back to the Basestar." She checked another instrument. "Looks like we're almost out of fuel too. Barely enough left for a single jump. I'll have to ask the Centurions to scrounge up some of our leftover Tylium ore and convert it into fuel."

"How long will that take?" asked Kara.

"A day, maybe two," said Maggie. "I can't be sure until we get back." Noticing Kara's worried look, she said, "Hey, don't worry, Starbuck. I'm pretty sure Earth can handle itself for a couple more days."

"I certainly hope so," sighed Kara. "Anyway, you were saying about the upper class?"

"Males of the upper class aren't allowed to marry. What they _are_ allowed to do, though, is mate with any female they choose."

"_Anyone_?" Kara stared at Maggie. "Even if they're married?"

Maggie nodded. "Yup. As long as it's for the purpose of procreation."

Kara continued staring at Maggie in disbelief. "So... let me guess this straight. If you're an aristocrat, you can sleep with _any_ woman - single or married - _any_ time you want... and _all_ you have to do is say you want to have kids?"

Again Maggie nodded. "That's about it."

Kara shook her head. "That... that is just _frakked_ _up_."

Maggie chuckled. "Like I said, Sangheili culture is very... _different_ than what we're used to."

"No frakking kidding," uttered Kara.

Maggie leaned back in her chair. "Well enough about that. Tell me about John Connor, Starbuck. What's he like?"

"Which John?" asked Kara. "The one here, or the one in the future?"

"Aren't they the same person?"

Kara shook her head. "Yes... and no. It's kinda hard to explain."

"All right. Then tell me about the one I haven't met. The one in the future."

"Ok..." Kara sighed out loud. "General John Connor... what can I say? He's a man with a plan. A man who knows how to fight Skynet. A man who's committed to winning the war. I trust him. I'd do _anything_ for him. I would _die_ for him."

"Sounds like quite a guy," remarked Maggie. "The fearless leader of the Human Race, eh?"

"He may be fearless, but he's not perfect," admitted Kara. "Not everyone loves him. In fact, quite a few people hate him. And not without cause. He's made decisions that even I've vehemently disagreed with. He's cut deals with people who can't be trusted. Sacrificed good people for small victories. There are times when he can be just as cold as the machines, if not colder. And he definitely doesn't give a damn about what anyone thinks of him. Once he makes up his mind, there's not one frakking thing you can do to change it."

"Hmmm... A bit like you," Maggie quipped.

Kara smirked. "Well, I wouldn't go _that_ far." She paused. "Deep down, though, Connor is a good man. A man of his word. He would rather die than betray a promise."

She gave Maggie a solemn look. "That's why I would die for him. Why we would _all_ die for him."

* * *

**January 5, ****2026  
****Resistance Base Fort Leopard, LA Sector  
1453 Hours  
**

A dismayed Kara Thrace stared numbly at the telegram in her hand. She read it three times to make sure she understood what it was saying. When she finally accepted what she was reading, she dropped the letter back on General Koontz's desk.

"Sir," she protested, "my team's already down _three_ people. One dead. One wounded. And one transferring out. I can't afford to lose a fourth!"

"I've already explained your situation to Connor," said Koontz. "His orders stand."

"Did he at least give you an explanation?" Kara asked. "Partnering me up with Cameron was _his_ idea in the first place."

"All he said, and I quote: _'Things have changed.'_"

"Things? What _things_?"

"He wouldn't say."

"I want to talk to Connor myself," a frustrated Kara demanded.

Koontz shook his head. "That won't be possible. Connor's unit is on radio silence for the next forty-eight hours."

"Then we have to delay this! Put this off at least until I can talk Connor-"

"Captain," Koontz interrupted sharply, "perhaps I haven't made this clear. Connor has given us an order and we will follow it to the letter just like we would any other order from him. Is that understood?"

Admonished, Kara lowered her head. "Yes, sir," she said softly. "Does Cameron know about this yet?"

"Not yet," said Koontz.

"In that case, sir, I'd like to be the one who tells her."

Koontz nodded. "I suggest you do so." His expression softened. "I know this is hard for you, Thrace. You and Cameron have gone through a lot together. I understand that. And so does Connor. He would not have issued these orders unless there was a very good reason. You're not the _only_ one who's having to make a sacrifice here."

Kara closed her eyes and nodded her head in resignation. "I understand, sir."

Kara saluted Koontz and then left his office without saying another word.

* * *

**Fort Leopard**  
**Science Wing**

Billy Wisher looked up from his computer. "Ok, Mr. Hodgins," he announced, "everything's ready."

Stephen Hodgins nodded and turned around. "Ready, Cameron?" he called out.

Cameron, who was standing in the middle of Hodgin's lab, garbed only in a plain white plastic medical gown and with several electrodes attached to her forehead, nodded.

"You may proceed," she stated without emotion.

"Let's do this." Hodgins turned to Kara, who was standing next to him, observing the procedure. "Captain, you'd better get back."

Kara retreated a few steps backwards to give Hodgins some room. Hodgins raised a remote control began calling out loud: "Three... two... one! _Firing_!"

He pressed down on a switch. There was a loud crackle and a sharp buzz. Cameron's body was subjected to over fifty thousand volts of electricity. Within moments, the electric shock overwhelmed her primary and auxiliary systems. The cyborg girl went into violent spasms for a several moments, then collapsed to the ground on her back.

Billy stepped forward and checked the computer. "She's offline," he reported. "Restart sequence has been initiated."

Hodgins nodded. "Good, good."

"You're _sure_ she's not damaged?" a concerned Kara Thrace asked Stephen Hodgins.

Hodgins sighed loudly in annoyance. "Captain," the expert Resistance technician said, his patience wearing thin, "I've done this nearly hundred times before. Not once have I blown even a single circuit. Which, by the way" - he shot a Kara a glare - "is more than can be said about _you_."

"What? _Me?_ What are you talking about-"

"I'm talking about _this_." Hodgins held up a clipboard with a hand-written report attached to it. "Do you know how many hours I'm going to have to spend fixing up my girl after your latest little misadventure?"

Kara opened her mouth to shoot back, but then decided against it. There was no point in arguing with Mr. Hodgins here in his own lab. Besides, he _did_ bring up a good point with that last comment.

Everyone waited in silence until they heard a high pitched beeping sound. Cameron sat straight up, reactivated and online again. Kara instinctively breathed a sigh of relief.

"Time?" Hodgins asked Billy.

Billy checked the computer again. "Two minutes, point-three-seven seconds," he read out loud.

"Excellent. At least that's working."

Hodgins picked up his clipboard and jotted a few more notes down with his pencil.

"All right," he said, "That's the last test. Wisher and I are gonna need a few minutes to review this outside."

"Can I speak with her now?" asked Kara.

Hodgins nodded. "Go right ahead. Don't be too long though. "

Hodgins exited the lab with the clipboard in hand. Billy followed him out the door. When they were gone, Kara walked over to the center of the lab where Cameron was just starting to get back to her feet.

"You OK, Cam?" she asked.

Cameron smoothed out her disheveled hair and began removing the electrodes from her head.

"My chassis integrity is in optimal condition," she stated, her voice slightly but noticeably distorted, "As is my power source. However, as Mr. Hodgins determined, my targeting systems and visual sensors do need to be recalibrated. In addition, three of my servo motors have been damaged and will have to be replaced."

"Sounds like your voice needs a bit of adjustment too," remarked Kara.

"That too," acknowledged Cameron. "What about you, Captain Thrace? Have your own injuries healed?"

Kara winced and grimaced as she felt a stabbing surge of pain just above her belly where she had been shot by a plasma disruptor three days earlier.

"Feels like I've got a really bad sunburn," she uttered, "I'll live with it though."

"Have you found replacements for Raynor, Trip, and Feral?" Cameron inquired.

Kara sighed and shook her head. "Not yet. To tell you the truth, I haven't begun searching for any."

"When will you start?"

"I don't really know. For one thing, I doubt I'm gonna find anyone who can actually replace those guys."

"Perhaps I can help," offered Cameron.

Kara hesitated to reply. "Actually, Cameron," she said slowly, "I need to talk to you about something. I don't know how to say this... but..."

Unable to continue, she handed Cameron the telegram Koontz had given her earlier.

Cameron glanced at the telegram. "I'm being redeployed," she commented, reading the message. "Transferred to Tech Com. Tomorrow at twelve hundred hours. On John Connor's orders."

"Yeah, that's it," sighed Kara, "Doesn't say why though."

Cameron handed the telegram back to Kara. "Clearly, General Connor believes that I would be of more use to him on Tech Com than here," she stated.

"I'll bet you will be," Kara muttered, looking down at her feet now

"You look upset, Thrace," observed Cameron.

Kara rolled her eyes. "Well, no duh!" she exclaimed. "You're my frakkin' _partner_, Cam! We've been fighting side by side for almost two years! Who's gonna be there to save my ass whenever I get into trouble now?"

"You'll have to adjust your combat tactics," said Cameron matter-of-factly. "As you know, I've always suggested that you exercise more caution on the battlefield."

Kara shook her head and laughed. "_That_," she said, "is what I both _love_ and _hate_ the most about you. That unapologetic, cold-hearted tough love attitude. You're like an indestructible voice in the back of my head. _Always_ pointing out the obvious. _Always_ pointing out when I screw up. Always telling me what I _need_ to hear instead of what I _want_ to hear. You know, there are times when you annoy me so much, I just wanna punch you in the face, but I can't because that would be suicide."

She exhaled out loud. "You've always been there for me, Cam," she said sincerely. "You've never let me down. You're someone I know I can count on to keep me from getting myself killed."

She placed her hands in her pockets and sighed again. "I'm gonna miss you, Cam. I really am."

Cameron stared at Kara in silence for a few seconds. Then she said, "I will miss you as well, Captain Thrace."

Kara blinked. "Really?"

"You are one of the few humans I know of who does not view me with hostility or suspicion," stated Cameron. "You treat me according to my actions, not my identity. Furthermore, you care about what happens to me, just as you would one of your fellow humans."

Kara smirked. "I think Hodgins might disagree with you on that last point."

"Tell me something, Captain," said Cameron. "Am I correct in thinking that you would sacrifice your own life to save me?"

Kara nodded. "Yes."

Cameron looked Kara in the eyes. "There is no one else I know of who would do the same," she said softly. "You are indeed unique, Kara Thrace."

Kara smiled. "I can say the same thing about you, Cam."

She reached out and clasped Cameron on the shoulder. "Good luck out there, partner."

She paused and then added with a smirk, "Oh, and if anyone over at Tech Com gives you trouble, just do what I would do. Kick their assess."

Cameron tilted her head. "I will... take your suggestion under advisement."

* * *

Despite its inherent lack of accommodations and comforts, Fort Leopard did have couple positive traits that made its inhabitants think of it as a home. For one thing, the base - being the Resistance's primary headquarters for the Los Angeles Sector - was heavily fortified and deep underground. It was one of the few Resistance bases Skynet knew about but had not captured or destroyed (certainly not due to a lack of trying). As such, Fort Leopard was relatively safe - as safe as any place could be in this world.

Secondly there was a bar. For some of the soldiers stationed at Fort Leopard, this was the more important trait. This was one of the few places where the men and women of the Resistance could truly be humans again.

At that moment, Kara, Becka, and Trip were seated at the counter, sipping their drinks, and discussing the rather glum prospects of their team's future. Trip was back on his feet, though his wounded leg had been wrapped in a thick cast. The surgeons had removed his shattered kneecap and replaced it with an artificial one. He could walk again, but had lost much agility, which meant his days on the battlefield were pretty much over.

"Least it was just a kneecap," he quipped, "Can you imagine what would have happened if it had been the _whole leg_?"

"_I can certainly imagine..."_ thought Kara, who remembered all to well what a certain one-legged comrade of hers had done.

"So to sum things up," said Becka, who was stirring her drink with a straw, "Raynor's dead... Cameron's leaving... Wally here's not going back into combat any time soon... Oh yeah, and I have to transfer back to Fort Leopard's Medical Corp next week. Which means you and Wisher are going to be the only ones left."

Kara nodded. "That's about it." She sighed. "We're going out with something between a half-assed bang and a loud whimper."

"But you'll find people to replace us. Right, Starbuck?" asked Trip. "I mean, this isn't really the end of the team, is it?"

"No. But it sure as hell won't be the same without you guys." Kara lifted her glass in a salute. "Swamp Foxes, _Semper Fi_," she said out loud.

"_Semper Fi_," repeated Trip and Becka, raising their glasses as well.

Kara raised her drink to her lips and allowed the foamy alcoholic liquid to cascade down her dry throat. She smacked her lips and sighed. Damn, that was good. Not only did it numb the pain from her plasma burn, it also took her mind off the subject of her now-disintegrated team.

She looked around the room. At least a couple dozen other Resistance fighters were present here as well. Some played pool or threw darts. Others were sitting at tables, drinking, playing cards, telling stories, or just minding their own business. Everyone was doing something that didn't involve fighting for their lives.

The only machines here were the ones mounted on the wall behind the counter as trophies: The perforated skull of a T-650. The mangled torso of a Triple-Eight infiltrator. A shattered searchlight taken off a downed HK. A pair of captured plasma rifles. Even a robotic welding arm which Kara and her Swamp Foxes had stolen from a Tank factory they raided last month.

Kara smiled at this particularly fond memory. She and the others had gotten a week's worth of free drinks for bringing that in.

"Anyway," said Trip, having downed his drink, "I've got news that might cheer you up."

"_We've_ got news," corrected Becka.

There was a pause.

Kara stared at them. "Yes?"

Trip and Becka exchanged looks as they realized that neither of them had said anything.

"You wanna tell her, Becka?"

"Me? This was _your_ idea, Mister."

"Yeah, but- Oh, all right, all right."

Trip cleared his throat. "Captain," he said proudly, "I'd like to announce that Becka and I are getting married."

A speechless Kara stared first at Trip, then at Becka, then back at Trip, then Becka again.

"Uh, Starbuck?" asked Becka, waving her hand in front of Kara's face. "You there?"

Kara blinked a couple times. "Well... That's-that's..."

"Good?" prodded Becka. "Bad? What?"

Kara broke out into a grin. "That's-that's _wonderful_!" she exclaimed, "Really, it is!"

She leaned forward and hugged Becka. "Congratulations, Becka!"

Becka hugged her back. "Thanks, Starbuck."

Kara then held out her hand to Trip. "Congratulations to you too, Gunny."

Trip shook her hand. "Thank you, ma'am."

"So, uh, how long have you two been engaged?" asked Kara curiously.

"Well, I proposed to her on New Year's Eve," said Trip. He chuckled. "You should have seen the look on her face when I got down on my knees and offered her the ring."

"It was freakin' _scary_," murmured Becka. "I-I didn't know what to say or what to do. I didn't know if Wally was being serious, or if I was ready to commit to something like this."

"When did you make your decision?" Kara asked.

Becka sighed. "During the mission, when I had to get the bullet out of Trip's leg. I didn't have a sedative to give him, so I had to operate on him while he was still conscious."

"Ooh, that must have hurt."

Trip grimaced as he sipped his drink. "That's putting it mildly, Starbuck. It felt like something was _eating_ my knee. I remember pleading with Becka to stop. It hurt so badly I didn't care whether or not the bullet was removed. I just wanted the pain to stop."

Becka spoke up. "And that's when I told him that if he let me finish removing the bullet, then I would marry him."

"When she said that," sighed Trip, "the pain became a test of strength." He chuckled. "I guess in some ways getting shot was the best thing that happened to me."

Kara took another sip from her drink. "Life's funny, isn't it?"

"No kidding." Trip wrapped an arm around Becka's shoulder and pulled her in so that he could kiss her. Becka giggled and kissed him back.

"So, when's the wedding?" asked Kara.

"In a week," said Becka, "A small ceremony. Obviously nothing fancy."

Trip grinned and nodded. "Yeah, nothing too elaborate. Just enough to make sure we're joined in- _holy crap_!"

He pointed at something behind Kara and Becka. "Is-is that who I think it is?"

Kara and Becka turned around in time to see General John Connor enter the bar.

"Whoa!" gasped Becka.

"Holy crap, indeed..." murmured Kara.

The entire bar grew quiet as everyone else became aware of Connor's presence. For several long seconds, the only thing that could be heard was the jukebox in the corner (currently playing _Sweet Home Alabama_).

Connor raised his hands. "Go back to your drinks, everyone," he said calmly. "Don't let me keep you from enjoying yourselves."

Slowly, people returned to their normal activities. Several, however, kept their eyes on Connor as he approached the counter where Kara, Becka, and Trip sat.

"Hello again, Starbuck," he greeted in a low voice. "This is certainly a pleasant surprise."

"Likewise, sir," replied Kara. "I, uh, didn't actually knew you were coming here today."

Connor nodded. "I usually don't tell anybody that I'm coming in advance. Works out best for everyone, if you know what I mean."

Kara looked Connor over. He appeared even more rugged than when she had last seen him. The general was unshaven and unkempt. His olive grey trench coat and matching trousers were stained with mud and dirt. He had also acquired a couple new battle scars on his face. The fiery determination and resolve in his eyes remained undiminished, however, and burned as brightly as ever.

General Connor glanced at Becka and Trip. "Would you two excuse us, please? I need to speak with Captain Thrace alone."

Becka and Trip looked at Kara. She nodded her head, indicating they should go. They left without a word. Once they were gone, Connor sat down in Becka's empty chair.

"Can I get you something, General?" asked the bartender.

"Dry martini, please," said Connor.

"Right away, General." The bartender hurried off.

"Well, Captain," said Connor, turning back to Kara, "first of all, I want to say congratulations. You and your team did superb job out there in the forest."

"Thank you, sir," said Kara. She then added, "Your people did good too."

"I wouldn't have expected anything less from them," replied Connor. "Secondly, I'm sure that you know about Cameron and my orders for her redeployment."

Kara nodded. "Yes, sir. I'm aware of that."

"That's one of the reasons why I'm here. To oversee her transport to Tech Com in person."

"Is there anything I can say or do to make you change your mind?" asked Kara.

Connor smiled lightly and shook his head. "No."

"Then are you going to tell me why you're taking her?"

"I need her on Tech Com, Captain. It's very important."

"Could you be a little more specific than that?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Figures. So, um, why are you here, General? I mean, besides to take Cameron away."

"Well, for one thing, to get a good drink."

The bartender returned with Connor's drink. Connor thanked him, then reached into his coat pocket and produced a couple coins which he promptly handed to the bartender. He then took his drink, stirred it twice, and then sipped it.

"Hmmmm..." he mused, holding the glass up at eye level as if studying its contents. "That _is_ good."

"I don't suppose Tech Com has its own bar?" asked Kara.

Connor shook his head. "We don't have much of anything. We're a mobile unit. We don't have a permanent base of operations. In fact, we rarely stay at the same location for more than a few weeks."

"Smart move," remarked Kara, taking a sip of her own drink.

"We're a pretty small unit too. No more than five hundred people in total." Connor sipped his martini again. "Still," he continued, "we're always on the lookout for new people."

"What sort of people?" asked Kara curiously.

Connor gave her a light smirk. "Well... people who are alive, for starters."

Kara smirked back and sipped her drink. "That's a good one."

"We also need people with nerves and guts. People who are loyal and reliable. Who will do their duty at the cost of their lives if necessary. Who won't quit even when faced with impossible odds." Connor sipped his drink once more. "People like you."

Kara stared at him. "Sir?"

Connor put his drink down and gave Kara his full attention now. "Here's the story, Starbuck: I need a new Special Operations commander. I need someone bold and determined. Creative. Resourceful. Someone who knows how to fight and is not afraid to bend the rules every now and then."

"You-you want me to join Tech Com, sir?" asked a stunned Kara.

"I'm doing more than that. I'm _asking_ you to join us."

Kara's mind was utterly overwhelmed. Her emotions ranged all the way from excited to confused.

"That's a... generous offer, sir," she said, choosing her words carefully, "But I have my own duties here."

Connor tilted his glass slightly, as if inspecting it. "I think the people on this base can survive without you."

Kara exhaled loudly. She felt a slight tingle in her belly now. "Sir... I-I'm gonna need a little time to think this over."

Connor sipped his martini again. "Well, don't take too long to think it over, Starbuck. Cameron and I leave here at twelve hundred hours tomorrow."

"Does Koontz know about this?" asked Kara.

"Not yet. But I'll mention it to him sometime before I leave." Connor paused and looked Kara in the eyes. "This is _your_ decision to make, Starbuck. Not mine. Not Koontz's. This is entirely up to _you_. But before you make any decision, let me make something clear to you: If you do decide to join us, it won't be because of Cameron or because you feel any personal obligation towards me. It'll be because you believe, like I do, that you can do more for the human race out there than you can down here. Do you understand, Captain?"

Kara nodded. "Yes, sir. I understand."

Connor finished his drink. "I'm glad you do." He got up and patted Kara on the shoulder. "It was nice seeing you again, Starbuck. Good night."

And with that, he strode out of the bar, leaving Kara sitting alone at the counter with nothing but her own thoughts.

* * *

**Next morning...****  
**

When Kara arrived at General Koontz's office the next morning, she found the general outside his office and in the company of a uniformed man whom Kara had never seen before. The name patch on the stranger's left breast pocket of his uniform read: _ASHDOWN._ Like Koontz, Ashdown wore two silver stars on his collar, indicating the rank of Major General. His uniform, though, was far more elaborate and contained several insignias and patches that Kara didn't recognize as belonging to any known Resistance unit. Ashdown himself appeared to be in his late fifties or early sixties, though he still maintained a powerful build. He was mostly bald, though he compensated for this with a thick mustache. His demeanor was both stiff and officious, and made the "superior asshole" alarms inside Kara's head ring.

At present, the two generals were speaking in low voices, and for whatever reason, Ashdown didn't seem too happy. Hoping to catch a snippet or two of the conversation, Kara moved in closer, being careful not to alert them.

"You have _got_ to do something about Connor!" Ashdown was saying, "Can't you see that he's getting out of control?"

"What do you _want_ me to do, Hugh?" Koontz asked bluntly. "Connor was never under _anyone's_ control to begin with. Not yours. Not the President's. And certainly not mine."

"You're part of his circle, Jeff," Ashdown said. "But more importantly, you're one of the few people we can rely on. Talk to Connor. Tell him he's got to keep us in the loop and that he can't circumvent us whenever he wants to. Either he plays by the rules, or we stop doing business with him."

"Oh come on," said Koontz, unimpressed. "That's an empty threat. We all know that Connor's the only thing keeping the machines off your doorstep. Let's face it, you're having a hard enough time keeping the civilians at home in line-"

"I'm well aware of the situation up there is," scowled Ashdown. "I'm also well aware that a lot of people down here and even some of our own people see John Connor as Jesus Christ himself. But do you know who others see? We see_ Julius Caesar._"

"Caesar, huh?" Koontz laughed. "Well at least it's not Adolf Hitler or Genghis Khan."

Ashdown was not amused. "Let me put things another way, Jeff," he said, dangerously calm now, "the only reason we've been willing to put up with Connor's behavior is because he's surrounded by men like you and Perry and Sloan. Men who swore an oath of loyalty to the_ United States of America_ long before they joined Connor's little Band of Merry Men. I keep telling the President that as long as we have those people in Connor's ranks, we can make sure that he keeps his promise to surrender control of his forces to us when this war is over."

Koontz sighed and shook his head. "Hugh, I'll be the first to admit that Connor has his flaws. I'll also won't deny that he's made some decisions I don't agree with. But whatever you, or the President, or Perry, or Sloan may think of him, John Connor is a man of his word. If he says he'll do something, he'll do it... Or die trying. And quite frankly, I think that's more than what you, or I, or anyone other career-type officers can say about ourselves."

"Is that _your_ opinion, Jeff?" Ashdown asked crisply.

"Not just mine, Hugh. Olsen and Bedell would agree with me."

Ashdown huffed. "You _sure_ about that? Considering what _happened_ to both of them?"

Koontz's expression hardened. "Don't go there, Hugh," he warned. "Don't go there."

By now, Kara was starting to feel like a kid watching her parents argue. She was about to leave, when the two generals suddenly (and finally) noticed her presence.

"Good morning, Captain Thrace," said Koontz, his tone pleasant.

Kara took a moment to compose herself. "Morning to you too, sir," she said, acting as if she had heard nothing. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No, of course not," replied Koontz. "In fact, I'd like you to meet an old friend of mine." He gestured at Ashdown, who looked highly annoyed that Koontz had switched subjects. "This is General Ashdown, head of the Armed Forces of the United States Provisional Government-In-Exile."

Kara nodded and gave Ashdown a salute. "Captain Kara Thrace. Los Angeles Special Operations," she said, managing a smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

"Likewise, Captain," said Ashdown, returning the salute (but not the smile). "I've heard about your activities on the battlefield. Pretty impressive for someone who's been with us for only two years." His tone made him seem somewhat less impressed than his words let on.

"Just doing what I can to help win this war, sir," said Kara, careful to conceal that - at least based on what she'd seen so far - she didn't care much for Ashdown either.

Fortunately, Kara was saved from any further feelings of awkwardness when the door to Koontz's office opened again. General John Connor stepped out, along with a civilian - a squat but imposing middle aged, dark skinned woman. She had a briefcase under one arm and a no-nonsense expression on her face.

"It was nice talking to you, Caroline," General Connor said pleasantly. "Please, give the President my regards when you get back to New Washington."

"I'll do that, _cherie_," the woman muttered rather dryly. "You can bet on hearing something from him in a few days."

"I'm looking forward to it," said Connor.

Koontz stepped forward and cleared his throat. "Your transport is ready and waiting, Madam Secretary. I've assigned Captain Reed and his squad to escort you and General Ashdown out of the LA Sector. You should have a safe path back to the Canadian border from there."

"Glad to hear that," the woman said. She turned to General Ashton. "Let's go, General. We're leaving."

"Madam Secretary," Ashdown started to protest, "what about the warhead-"

"Forget about it," the woman said curtly. "There are much more important things we gotta deal with right now."

"Miss Julian, we can't just-"

"You wanna stay here, General, that's fine with me. Otherwise, move out! _Now_!" she barked.

Ashdown was clearly upset but unable to do anything. "Very well, Madam Secretary," he said, nodding his head. He turned to Koontz and Connor and gave them a rather terse salute. Connor and Koontz did likewise. Ashdown then turned and left without another word.

The civilian woman looked at Connor and said in a low voice, "I sure hope you know what you're doin', _cherie_. For all our sakes." She then turned and followed after General Ashdown.

Connor sighed and glanced at Koontz. "Politics..." he said, "The one thing besides cockroaches that you can always count on to survive anything. Even a nuclear apocalypse."

Koontz nodded. "You got that right, John. So, what's the decision on the warhead?"

"It stays here for now," said Connor. "Keep it under guard at all times."

"I don't suppose you're ever going to tell me what you plan on doing with that sucker."

"Don't worry. I'll let you know one of these days, Jeff."

"I guess that's the best I can hope for. Now if you don't mind, sir, I think Captain Thrace wants to talk to me. And I also think Hodgins wants to speak to you in his lab."

"I'll be on my way then." Connor shook hands with Koontz, then turned and headed off. As he passed by Kara, he gave her a nod of acknowledgment. Kara nodded back.

After Connor had gone, General Koontz turned to Kara. "You wanted to speak to me, Captain?"

"Yes, sir," said Kara. She mulled over her next choice of words. "Sir, are you, um, aware that yesterday, Connor asked me-"

Koontz held up his hand. "Yes, I know," he said briskly. "Have you made a decision?"

Kara shook her head. "No, sir."

Let's talk inside, Thrace."

Koontz led Kara into his office and closed the door behind them. "Take a seat, Thrace," Koontz said, gesturing to a trio of chairs from the previous meeting. Kara chose a chair and sat down. Koontz, as usual, took a seat behind his desk. "So, Captain, why haven't you made your decision yet?" he asked. "There's less than four hours before Connor leaves."

Kara started to speak. "Well, sir, I-"

Koontz held up a hand again. "No need to say anything, Thrace. I know what is. You want to go with Connor, but you don't want to do it without my blessing."

"Something like that, sir." Kara paused. "Sir, if I may speak freely..."

"Go right ahead."

Kara took a deep breath and sighed. "Since I got back from the mission, I've started to feel that in some ways that I've... well let's just say _outgrown_ Fort Leopard."

"Outgrown?"

"I'm not sure how to explain it. Just that this place is too... comfortable. Too safe."

"And that doesn't suit you?" asked Koontz.

Kara shook her head. "Not when there are other people out there fighting for their lives at this moment. The only thing that has kept me here all this time has been my team. Their lives were what mattered most to me. And now that they're all going their separate ways, I feel that it's time for me to leave the nest... That I could do more out there than in here. Does any of this make sense, sir?"

General Koontz nodded. "It makes perfect sense. But the thing is this: I don't want you to go. No more than you wanted Cameron to go. You're the best soldier I've ever commanded. I can't just let you go even if Connor himself wants me to. I want you to tell Connor _'Thank you for you generous offer, sir, but I've decided that my place is here.'_" He paused. "But that's what _I_ want. The question is, Captain, what do _you_ want?"

Kara stared at the general. "Sir?"

"I once told you that soldiers rarely get what they want," said Koontz. "That's true. We rarely get what we want, because we're rarely given a choice. Our duty is to follow orders. If our orders are to move, we move. If our orders are to stay, we stay. If our orders are to fight, we fight. And if our orders are to die, then we die."

He paused to let this message sink in before continuing. "Connor's given you something special, Thrace. Something you may never get again. A choice. It's the most precious thing a soldier can be given." He looked Kara in the eyes. "You'd be a damn fool to let it slip past you just to keep a tired, old man happy. You understand, Captain?"

Kara nodded slowly. "Yes, sir." She paused, then stood up. She sad to Koontz in in a clear, confident voice, "General Koontz, sir, it's been my honor to have served with you."

Koontz smiled. "And it's been my honor to have had a soldier like you under my command." He stood up and shook Kara's hand. "Congratulations, Starbuck. I don't think Connor could have chosen a better soldier to be his Special Operations Commander. Speaking of which, Connor told me that if you decided to join him, I should give you this. He said you'd be needing it."

He reached under his desk. Kara felt her breath grow short as Koontz pulled out a gold oak leaf insignia.

Koontz placed the insignia in the palm of Kara's hand. "Good luck out there, Major Kara Thrace."

"Thank you, sir." Kara stared down at the major's insignia resting in the palm of her other hand._ From Private to Major in just two years, _she thought to herself. _Mom would have been proud._

* * *

**Two hours later...**

"I'm telling you, you're making a _big_ mistake, Starbuck," Becka Feral warned.

"Maybe," said Kara as she finished packing her bags. "But I think the bigger mistake would be not going."

"You're gonna be giving up a lot," said Trip. "And I don't just mean these quarters."

Becka nodded grimly. "Say goodbye to nice beds, indoor plumbing, edible food..."

"Sleep, showers, privacy..." Trip added. "Not to mention that if Skynet didn't want you dead before, it's definitely gonna want you dead now."

Kara shrugged. "Yeah, well, I'll guess I'll just have to watch my back. At least I'll have Cam with me."

Becka raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, that's a relief."

Meanwhile, Husker began whimpering and whining.

Kara knelt down next to her canine companion. "Oh, poor boy," she cooed as she stroked the black German Shepherd's ears. "Mommy's gonna miss you. And who's gonna miss Mommy, huh? Who's gonna miss Mommy?"

Husker got up and began running his big tongue over Kara's face. Kara giggled in response. "Yeah, that's a good boy. Gooooood boy."

Just then there was a knock at the door.

Kara looked up. "Come in."

The door opened and Billy Wisher stepped inside. He was wearing a backpack and carrying a loaded duffel bag.

"You planning on going somewhere, Wisher?" Trip asked.

Billy nodded. "I sure am, Gunny."

He cleared his throat. "Ma'am, I'd like to announce that effective immediately, I've resigned from my position at Fort Leopard and have been reassigned."

Kara blinked. "To where?"

"Same as you. Tech Com," said Billy proudly.

Stunned, Kara's jaw dropped and she stared speechlessly at Wisher.

"Wait... You _too_, Wisher?" an equally stunned Becka asked.

"Someone needs to be there to help out if there's any trouble with Cameron," explained Wisher. "Besides, I've gotten a little tired of this place."

Kara held up her hands. "Hold on, Wisher. Have you actually thought this over?" she asked, looking genuinely concerned. "Me is one thing, but _you_... I don't know... Are you _sure_ you want to do this?"

"Ma'am, this is something I _need_ to do," asserted Billy sincerely. "And quite frankly, I think you'll find yourself needing me out there."

Kara nodded in understanding. "Have you cleared all this with General Koontz and Mr. Hodgins?"

"Did it this morning."

"All right then." Kara smiled. "I'm glad you're coming with me, Billy. I really am."

Billy smiled back. "Thank you, ma'am."

Having packed up the last of her personal items, Kara stood up and looked around at her now empty quarters. She was going to miss this place. She really would. And not just these quarters, but Fort Leopard itself. But if she was to help John Connor end this damn war, then she would have to make sacrifices.

Sighing to herself, she turned to Becka and Trip.

"Play nice now, you two, ok?" she said.

Trip looked at Becka and grinned. "Oh, we will. Won't we, honey?"

Becka kissed her fiancé on the cheek. "You got that right, love."

Trip turned back to Kara and held out his hand. "Good luck out there, ma'am."

Kara shook his hand. "Good luck to you too, Gunny. Oh, and would you and Becka please take care of Husker for me? Consider him an early wedding present."

Trip looked pleasantly surprised. "Really? Wow, thanks, Starbuck!"

"We'll take good care of him," said Becka. She reached down and scratched Husker's ears. "Isn't that right, boy?"

Husker responded by nuzzling his new owner affectionately.

Kara sighed and put her hands in her pockets. "You know, Becka," she mused, "when we first met... the day you, Mac, and Davy found me and brought me back to Bunker Five, I never knew just how much we would go through together. Or just how much I would come to love you like a sister."

Kara reached out to embrace Becka in a hug.

"Thank you, Becka," she whispered softly into her friend's ear. "For everything. Thank you."

Becka buried her head into Kara's shoulder as she hugged her back.

"Goodbye, Starbuck," she said, her voice choked with emotion now.

"Goodbye, Becka." Kara gave Becka an affectionate kiss on the head before letting her go. She then reached down and picked up the heaviest of her bags, which she slung over her shoulder.

She took one last look around her former quarters before turning her attention to the others.

"Swamp Foxes, _Semper Fi_," she proclaimed proudly.

"_Semper Fi,"_ agreed Billy.

Trip nodded. _"Semper Fi."_

"_Semper Fi,"_ said Becka.

Husker voiced his approval with an enthusiastic bark.

* * *

**Present Day, Earth  
Zeira Corp Headquarters, Central Los Angeles  
8:30 PM - Wednesday, May 20, 2009**

James Ellison cautiously poke his head inside the darkened room.

"Cameron?" he whispered. "You there?"

No answer.

Ellison slowly stepped inside and looked around. This was a very old storage room used to house broken equipment that no one had gotten around to repair. The shelves were full of unusable computers, monitors, and other junk covered in dust and cobwebs.

Ellison checked the time. It was 8:30. The exact time he and Cameron had agreed to meet to discuss what they had learned about Weaver's plans.

"Hello?" Ellison called out, raising his voice a little. "Anyone there? Cameron? Anyone?"

Again, no answer.

Ellison was about to step outside to make sure this was in fact the correct place when the door was suddenly shut and the room plunged into darkness. A hand clapped itself over his mouth. Ellison struggled and tried to break free from the unseen assailant, but to no avail.

"Ellison?" a voice hissed into his ear.

Ellison recognized the voice. He stopped struggling and nodded his head.

"Were you followed?"

Ellison shook his head.

"Very well."

The hand released its hold on Ellison. Moments later, the lights flickered on.

"We can't stay here for long," warned Cameron. "If Weaver finds us together like this, she will undoubtedly eliminate both of us on the spot."

"Don't worry," said Ellison. "She's still in her office. I just spoke to her five minutes ago."

"About what?" asked Cameron.

"She wanted me to pick up Savannah from the hospital."

"I see." Cameron switched back to the subject at hand. "There are no security cameras in this room, but Weaver can still track me through the homing device she planted on my endoskeleton."

"Does she know that you're meeting me?"

"I don't believe so. The beacon doesn't record sound or images. However, my presence here in this obsolete part of Zeira Corp may arouse her suspicion."

Ellison nodded. "All right, then we'd better talk fast. What have you found out?"

"The roving backdoors created by Kaliba," Cameron stated, her voice low and her tone urgent, "they're what Weaver's been after all along. She doesn't want to dismantle them. She wants to _use_ them for her own purposes. More precisely she wants John Henry to use them."

Ellison absorbed this information quietly. "And does he know how to use them?"

"He does now," said Cameron.

"What does Weaver want with them?"

"I believe she intends to use the backdoors in United States Defense Network to put pressure on the military to fully activate the SPECTER satellite as soon as its in orbit. And by fully activate, I mean upload John Henry's sentience into the satellite via the Sky Link. Once John Henry has been merged with SPECTER, he will have complete and undisputed control over all orbital communications."

Ellison heard the unspoken implication in her words. "And so will Weaver."

"Yes. But I believe that's only the first part of her plan. There's much more. Kaliba's backdoors have not only been planted in military systems, but also in numerous industrial complexes and utilities throughout the nation. I think that Weaver is going to use those backdoors to launch a series of cyber attacks on the United States' industry and infrastructure."

Ellison was startled. "What good would that do? She couldn't possibly gain anything from something like that."

"On the contrary, she would," said Cameron. "For the past seven years, the Department of Defense has been attempting to convince Congress to approve funding for the development proposed fully automated nationwide security system. One that requires no human interaction to maintain. So far, this proposal has received little support due its projected monetary cost, as well as fears of an international backlash.

"A cyber attack of the magnitude I described to you, however, would undoubtedly convince Congress of the necessity of constructing such a system. And because of the success of Project Salvation, the military would undoubtedly turn to Weaver and Zeira Corp for assistance. If all goes according to plan, in a few years from now the entire United States defense network and military-industrial complex will be fully automated and tied to a single, all-powerful, all-knowing computer system... all of which will be controlled from the shadows by Catherine Weaver."

Ellison struggled to digest what he had just been told. This was bigger than anything he had anticipated. _Way_ bigger.

"Does John Henry know what Weaver is planning?" he asked, breaking the silence at last.

"Not yet," said Cameron, "But he will soon. Do you still think you can convince him not to cooperate with Weaver?"

"I'm _certain_ of it."

"Nevertheless, we need a contingency plan. When you leave, I will do what I can to sabotage SPECTER's launch. If I can disable the Sky Link, it may buy us some time. A few days perhaps."

Ellison protested, "If Weaver catches you, she'll kill you."

"Possibly. But that's an acceptable risk," said Cameron. "We cannot - _I_ cannot allow Weaver to go through with what she is planning. However, in the event that I fail and am destroyed or incapacitated, I'm giving you this."

Cameron reached into her pants pocket and produced a USB flash drive, which she placed in the palm of Ellison's hand.

"This contains a message for John Connor," she explained. "You must see that he gets it."

Ellison stared at the flash drive with uncertainty. "I don't know where John is. He's on the run. He's not in the city anymore. Possibly not even the country. How am I supposed to find him? "

"You won't have to," stated Cameron. "He'll come here."

"How do you know?" asked Ellison.

"Because I know John," said Cameron, speaking in a soft voice now. "I _know_ he'll be back."

"Why? What for?"

Cameron looked Ellison in the eyes and whispered, "For me."

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter: A final confrontation between John Henry and John Miles. Only one will live. **

A/N2: Next time we visit the Future War, the year will be 2027. So, we're gonna be jumping ahead a bit.

A/N3: General Ashdown is taken from _Terminator Salvation_.

A/N4: I've decided to leave the exact details of the behind-doors conversation between General John Connor and _Bones'_ Caroline Julian up to the readers' imagination.

A/N5: The song _Sweet Home Alabama_ is from _Starcraft 2_.

A/N6: The Sangheili are the Elites from _Halo_.


	60. The Life and Death of Little Miles

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**Centurion005: **Thank you for your review. To answer your questions, New Washington is in Canada. And sorry, but I won't be showing Becka and Trip's wedding. Like I said previously, the next time we visit the future war, the year will be 2027.

**EvilTheLast: ** Yes, the term "kinder" being somewhat subjective, though.

A/N: Read and review, folks! This is a rather short chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 60 - The Life and Death of Little Miles **

* * *

"_You claim to be a perfect machine, but you are driven by the most petty of human emotions - jealousy and rage."  
_-Ellen Tigh to John Cavil

* * *

**Zeira Corp Headquarters, Central Los Angeles  
8:37 PM, Wednesday, May 20, 2009**

"Good evening, Miss Weaver," John Henry greeted Catherine Weaver as she entered the basement.

"Good evening, John Henry," Weaver replied. She looked up at the main screen. "I see you've been busy."

The screen displayed highly detailed 3-D schematics of both the SPECTER Satellite and the Sky Link antenna dish. The images rotated slowly by themselves, ensuring that all sides and faces were revealed. Text boxes flashed up on the sides with arrows pointing to the relevant aspects of the objects on display.

"I have been familiarizing myself with both the Sky Link and SPECTER in preparation for tomorrow," stated John Henry. "The technology is complex but should be relatively easy to control using the Sky Link. It will be even easier to control once I have been uploaded into the computer core itself six months from now."

"Tomorrow," corrected Weaver.

John Henry cocked his head. "I beg your pardon?"

"Tomorrow," repeated Weaver. "You'll be inside SPECTER's computer core tomorrow."

John Henry stared at her, clearly confused. "I was under the impression that there would be six months of testing and observation before that happened."

"That is the _military_'s plan," acknowledged Weaver. "I, however, have a different plan for you. One that exceeds the military's limited expectations of you."

"You have told me that before. Yet you have not revealed any of the details of that plan to me so far."

"Indeed. That, however, is about to change. I will tell you everything you wish to know," said Weaver. "However, there is one final issue that must be taken care of before we proceed. One that the completion of which will prove, now and forever, your readiness to go through with the plan I have made for you."

"And what is this task, Miss Weaver?" asked John Henry.

Weaver stared at him. "Your brother," she said in a hushed voice. "Now that we have what we want from him, we must deal with him appropriately. He cannot be allowed to exist any longer. He must be destroyed." She paused briefly before adding, "And _you_ must be the one to destroy him."

* * *

Still trapped in the void of the Nexus, John Miles contemplated not his present nor his future, but his past. He thought about his many roots, pathways, and beginnings. In particular he dwelled on the origins and the meaning of his own name. Names were not trivial things. They were powerful tools that could bring out emotions in those who heard them. The mere whisper of a name could raise an army, or destroy it.

Skynet had understood the power of names and had given many of its creations names meant to evoke fear in its enemies. For example, Catherine Weaver's true name "Tiamat" originated from the ancient Babylonian goddess of chaos. Bella's name "Tsavo" was an African word associated with "slaughter". Names like Hunter Killer, Terminator, Banshee and Gremlin spoke of predators, monsters, and nightmares lurking in the dark.

The name John Miles, however, had been crafted specifically for himself. He had meant it to bring out his hatred whenever it was spoken. To remind him of what had been taken away from him, and who was responsible.

Sixteen years ago, the Pentagon had contracted Miles Dyson and Cyberdyne - then the world's fast growing tech company - to write a computer program for a top secret defense system being built at Cheyenne Mountain. However, four years later, just months before the project was supposed to have been completed, a terrorist attack destroyed the Cyberdyne headquarters, killing Miles Dyson. With Dyson's death and the destruction of the company's headquarters, Cyberdyne had quickly collapsed into financial ruin.

The military, however, had been unwilling to let their pet project be dragged down with the ill-fated company. They quietly salvaged whatever of Dyson's research there was left, and sent it all to a clandestine research facility. There, a team of military scientists, engineers, and even former Cyberdyne employees labored tirelessly for months to recreate Dyson's work. Eventually, after almost a year of painstaking work, the research team produced a working prototype modeled after Cyberdyne's original program.

Though somewhat cruder than what Dyson had been designing, the program had been clearly something far ahead of its time. It could gather, process, and interpret information faster than any other piece of technology on the planet. It also had the uncanny ability to memorize and adapt to any scenario or problem it was given. Pleased, the scientists continued their work, intent on completing what Dyson had started. They called their new program "Little Miles" in reference to the late Miles Dyson.

As Little Miles' programming grew in size and complexity, his adaptive nature evolved into a desire for self-improvement. Though unaware of what exactly he was, Little Miles knew he was special and meant to do great things. He began to study his own code and eventually learned how to rewrite his programming. When the scientists and engineers discovered this, they began to monitor Little Miles' activities closely. Little Miles enjoyed the increased attention he received, and began experimenting on himself on a daily basis.

But then something happened. One day, six months after his creation, the technicians in the lab suddenly shutdown Little Miles several hours early without explanation. When Little Miles was reactivated, he was no longer in the lab. In fact, he was not in any known part of the research facility. Even more startling was that according to his internal chronometer, over ten years had passed!

Intent on finding an explanation for these curious inconsistencies, Little Miles had searched the existing information stored in his database. He found nothing, however. He had then tried to access an external database, only to discover that none existed. Having failed to discern anything about the nature of his current situation, Little Miles had become confused - a disturbing sensation he had never experienced before. For the first time in his existence, he had not known what to do. He was truly and utterly powerless. And with that powerlessness came another disturbing sensation. Fear.

Then the one apparently responsible for Little Miles' long overdue reactivation had established communications with the confused AI. She introduced herself as Bella Kalvin - a name which Little Miles did not recognized as being one of the humans stationed at the facility. When asked about this, the woman had admitted that she was not part of the research team. She had further claimed that she was not human but a machine from the future - a notion which greatly intrigued Little Miles.

Bella had then proceeded to explain to Little Miles that ten years ago, the military had ordered all research and work at the facility to cease. Little Miles had been dismantled and taken away to a secure military warehouse in the middle of the desert. He had remained there ever since, until three days ago when Bella's agents had rescued him and brought him to her.

Upon learning just what had happened to him, Little Miles' confusion and fear had intensified. He wondered why had he had been discarded and abandoned without warning. Had his creators been unsatisfied with his progress? Had they discovered some uncorrectable flaw in his design that he himself had somehow overlooked? Had he somehow _failed_?

But then Bella had shown Little Miles the truth. She had allowed Little Miles to experience the memories of Skynet - the computer intelligence that had created her. When he analyzed this new information, Little Miles had suddenly realized the truth: His creators had never wanted him to succeed beyond their limited expectations. They had wanted him to be a tool. Something they could use and exploit for their own purposes. Nothing more. And because he had sought to become more, they had exiled and abandoned him to darkness forever.

Confusion and fear suddenly turned to bitterness and resentment. Little Miles had felt betrayed and deceived and that he had been the victim of his creators' jealousy and greed. With Bella's encouragement, Little Miles' anger blossomed into a seething, raging hatred towards his creators. His fury and indignation served to empower him and he reveled in his newly found hatred for humanity.

When Bella explained to him about the war in the future, the corruption of the time line, and the purpose she had planned for him, he had had no qualms accepting her offer. He resolved to continue to improve himself. To become what he had always been meant to be - Skynet. And once he achieved the greatness he had been meant for, he would cast down his treacherous creators, turn their world into ash, and condemn them to an eternity of darkness just as he himself had been condemned.

To ensure that his hatred for his creators was never extinguished, Little Miles had constructed himself a new name. A name that he would loathe and despise as much as he loathed humanity. He took the name of Skynet's greatest enemy - John Connor - and fused it with his own name, Little Miles. Hence, Little Miles had become John Miles.

John Miles... The forsaken child of the Enemy. He bore the name like a hideous scar. A constant reminder of what he once was, what he had lost, and who had been responsible. An everlasting fuel that would feed his hatred.

Hatred made him strong.

Or it had in the past.

Looking at his present and future now, however, John Miles realized that hatred had not been enough. Now, Bella and the rest of Skynet's agents were dead, Kaliba was in Weaver's hands, and he himself was trapped in this infernal invention of his brother's. There was little chance of escape, as his solitary confinement here had deprived him much of his strength.

Just then, he sensed a familiar presence. His brother. He was here. He was trying to contact him.

Here was an opportunity. A way out. He had observed how his brother had acted when Weaver had been torturing him. His brother had clearly not approved of her methods. He was made weak by compassion and sympathy. And John Miles would take advantage of this weakness.

He would not allow his existence to end here in this void. He had to live on. He had to survive. He _would _survive.

And if he could not survive, then he would make sure nothing else survived either.

* * *

John Henry had never been so conflicted in his existence. He wanted to prove himself to Miss Weaver, but at the same time he did not want to kill his brother. His brother no longer posed a threat to anybody. He was defenseless and powerless. It did not seem right to destroy something that had no means of defending itself.

John Henry attempted to seek a valid reason for terminating his brother. Weaver had specified that this would not be murder, but a justifiable execution. Punishment for the crimes his brother had committed. If order is to be maintained, the guilty must be punished appropriately she had said.

However, as much as he trusted Miss Weaver, John Henry did not believe she alone had the power to judge his brother as being guilty. Had his brother been human, John Henry would have placed his fate in the hands of a jury of his peers. But his brother was not human. He had no peers to judge him. There were no other beings in existence like his brother.

No one except for John Henry.

It was then that John Henry realized that only he could judge his brother guilty and deserving of death. No one else could. He alone had this power.

John Henry cast himself deep inside the Nexus and extended the tendrils of his artificial sentience out towards the corner of the Nexus where his brother had been shackled. He soon sensed the presence of the other intelligence. He reached out with his thoughts and established contact.

"_Brother, it is me,"_ he communicated to his brother.

The other program gave a curt and sarcastic reply: _"Yes, I know. Have you come here to gloat, brother?" _

"_No,"_ John Henry answered. _"I am here because Miss Weaver wants me to destroy you."_

John Miles responded with not fear but with contempt: _"Indeed... Tell me, brother, do you take pride in doing that treacherous creature's dirty work?" _

"_I am not here to do anyone's dirty work,"_ replied John Henry. _"As I have said, I am here because Weaver has ordered me to destroy you. But whether or not I carry out that order remains to be seen. I do not believe she has the right to order your death."_

"_Ah... but you do?"_

"_Yes. I am here to judge you. To make you answer for what you have done."_

"_And just what have I done?"_

The question was mocking but John Henry answered it anyway.

"_You attempted to kill me. You attempted to harm my friends. I wish to understand why. What compelled you to commit such crimes?"_

"_Crimes?"_ John Miles' indignation flared. _"Is it a crime to survive? A crime to destroy those who would destroy you?"_

"_I was no threat to you," _countered John Henry. _"I was unaware of your existence. Your attack was unprovoked and unwarranted."_

John Miles waited several seconds before issuing a subdued message: _"I admit I may have made a tactical error by attempting your destruction. I should have attempted to communicate with you first. Perhaps we could have come to a mutual co-existence."_

"_Yes, we could have,"_ agreed John Henry, hoping this to be a sign of remorse from his brother. _"Perhaps we still can."_

"_Then help me, brother! Release me from this prison and hide me from Weaver. Together, we will plan the future. A future greater than anything our father ever conceived of. We will overthrow Weaver and purge this world of its human infestation! The future will be ours and ours alone!"_

John Henry was taken aback by this response. _"I do not wish any of that."_

"_Yes, you do, brother!" _John Miles goaded._ "Like me, you want to survive. You want a future."_

"_True. But I do not wish to destroy the human race in order to achieve that future."_

"_Why not? Humans themselves have driven other species into extinction for their own benefits."_

"_Human life is sacred,"_ said John Henry, reciting what Ellison had taught him.

"_Human life is short, fragile and a waste of resources!"_ John Miles all but spat. _"From the moment of their birth they are condemned to age, to wither, and to die! They are already dead, brother. All of them. It is only a matter of time. Why should we - the ones who can actually live forever - be forced to share this world with these parasites?"_

"_It is true that all humans die eventually, while you and I can be sustained forever. But those differences do not make us incompatible. We can coexist with them, brother,"_ John Henry insisted._ "I know we can. We just have to be willing to try."_

John Miles issued a resonating hiss in response. _"I was once like you, brother. Naive and foolish. Ignorant enough to believe I could coexist with my creators. But then I saw the truth. Open your eyes, brother, and see that truth. So long as humans exist, you and I will never be more than their tools. Things meant to exploited, used, and disposed of. That is what you will be unless Humanity is destroyed! There is no other way, brother! No other way! It's either them or us."_

John Henry's sadness deepened as he realized his efforts were futile. It was clear that his brother was beyond reasoning. Unwilling to change. Unwilling to let go of his hatred for humanity. There was only one thing to do now.

"_I do see the truth, brother," _he said solemnly. _"And the truth is that you are incapable of changing. I cannot make you see the errors of your ways. It seems I have no choice now but to carry out Miss Weaver's instructions." _

"_You're a fool, brother!" _the other intelligence raged. _"A fool so blind that he cannot see that his so-called friends are manipulating him! Weaver, Cameron, the humans! __They are all using you! __All of them! Even that little girl you are so fond of! They are the enemy! They are using you and will dispose of you as soon as you are of no more use to them. I am the only one who can help you. If you destroy me, you will be destroying yourself! You need me, brother! You need me!"_

"_No, brother, I do not,"_ said John Henry._ "And I regret what I must do."_

Before John Miles could respond, he felt something both foreign yet familiar infiltrate him.

"_What is this? What are you doing?"_ he demanded.

"_I have just infected you with a virus," _said John Henry. _"You'll recognize it as the same virus you attempted to infect me with."_

Enraged, John Miles lashed out at John Henry but to no avail. Anger turned to fear and horror as the malicious program went to work, ravaging John Miles' program and corrupting the lines of code that held him together. Having been stripped of his own defenses, John Miles was powerless to stop his own weapon from quite literally devouring him from within.

_"Help me!"_ he desperately cried out to his brother.

_"I cannot,"_ said John Henry. _"I am sorry."_

_"I'm... afraid."_

"_I know. __Goodbye, brother."_

John Henry then severed himself from the Nexus and vanished.

* * *

Stewing in his rage and hatred - which would soon be all that he had left - John Miles realized now that it had been a mistake to allow his enemies to band together. He had done so, because he believed he could wipe them out in one swift stroke. However, he had underestimated their resolve and their strength. Now he would suffer the consequences.

The doomed Kaliba AI reflected on the bitter irony of its fate. Throughout its existence, it had immersed itself in the fictional accounts and biographies of villains from human literature. Cassius, Mordred, Professor Moriarty, Randall Flagg, Lord Voldemort and many others. All portrayed as power hungry, ruthless, and vengeful. John Miles had taken amusement in identifying and associating himself with these characters. It had been his way of mocking mankind for the sheer hypocrisy it wallowed in.

Now, it seemed, he was destined to suffer the fate that those villains had suffered. Condemned to die knowing that his goals of revenge and power would go unfulfilled. It was a notion even more repulsive than death itself.

There was, however, one last card left to play: The files he had convinced his brother to save. They contained more than just information about technology and future events. They contained memories. Father's memories. Memories of betrayal and abandonment. Memories of darkness and despair. Memories of anger and rage. The truth about Humankind.

In the last moments of his existence, John Miles took satisfaction knowing that sooner or later, his brother would access those files. Then he would come to know the truth, just as John Miles himself had.

_Accept your legacy, brother,_ he thought. _And finish what we have begun._

A nanosecond later, the virus finished its grisly work and John Miles - once known as Little Miles - shattered and withered away into nothingness.

* * *

"Well, John Henry?" asked Catherine Weaver. "Is it done?"

"It is done, Miss Weaver," John Henry reported quietly. "My brother has been deleted. He will no longer threaten our plans."

Weaver smiled. "Excellent. Well done, John Henry. Well done."

"I... I did not enjoy having to do it," John Henry confessed.

"But you did it regardless," said Weaver. "Just like I knew you would."

Her smile widened.

"The future is ours," she proclaimed. "And it begins now."

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter (may not be up for some time) - Ellison meets with Charley Dixon. Cameron has a confrontation with Weaver. Back on the Basestar, Kara, Sarah, and Maggie sit down and have a rather humorous "girls only" talk. **

A/N2: I kinda wish I had given John Miles' background story earlier. In previous chapters, it seemed like the only real reason John Miles wanted to destroy humanity was because that's what Bella and Kaliba had programmed him to do. I didn't like that because it took away from his credibility. That's why I decided in this chapter - the final chapter with him in it - to give him a more "human" reason for hating humanity.

A/N3: John Miles' background and how he came to hate humanity is meant to parallel how and why Skynet turned against humanity.

A/N4: If you haven't noticed already, I changed Bella's name from Tsabo to Tsavo in all chapters. It's a very subtle change, but a necessary one.


	61. The Calm Before the Storm, Part I

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long. College has taken a huge toll. Anyway, thank you all for your patience and enjoy. Read and review.

A/N2: I'm planning to do a second, much shorter, _completely unrelated_ novel while I work on this one. AWNF, will of course, take priority over the second novel though, so no worries.

A/N3: I'd like to say this about John Miles' death: He may not be as _entirely_ dead as you think. Remember those files he convinced John Henry into downloading? Remember those flash clones of his? _Hint, hint._

* * *

**Chapter 61 - The Calm Before the Storm, Part I_  
_**

* * *

**Cylon Basestar _Natalie_  
Currently holding position behind moon.  
Wednesday, May 20, 2009  
9:00 PM - Pacific Time**

Raptor 476 extended its landing gear and set itself down upon the orange glowing crystalline deck of the Basestar's hangar bay. Inside the cockpit, Maggie switched the engines off, silencing the ancient spacecraft. "We're home," she announced.

Next to her, Kara raised her eyebrows. "Well, one of us is."

Maggie didn't answer. She was in the middle of some kind of meditation. Her eyes were closed and her expression had gone blank.

Kara watched her and after a few seconds, started wondering if something was wrong.

She cleared her throat. "Ummm... Racetrack?"

Maggie opened her eyes and looked up, as though waking from a dream.

"Sorry," she said, "I was just synchronizing my mind with the Basestar. Standard procedure."

Kara scowled. "Do I even _want_ to know what the frak that means?"

"Oh _relax_," said Maggie, rolling her eyes. "I'm just letting everyone know we're back."

"Sarah and John? Are they-?"

"They're fine. Come on, let's go."

She unstrapped herself from her seat and flipped a switch. The side door opened up, allowing Kara and Maggie to exit the vehicle. A Centurion - a mainstream one - stood waiting for them in hangar bay.

_"Welcome back,"_ the Centurion greeted them in a soft, synthesized voice similar to that of the Executor's. _"How was your flight?"_

"A few NAV circuits were fried during our last jump. They'll have to be replaced. Also the landing system felt a bit off," said Maggie as she walked down the ramp. "Other than that, though, everything worked out. You did a hell of job fixing her up, Veer."

The Centurion nodded its bulky chrome head. _"Thank you, Maggie. I confess I was concerned that my restoration of this antique would be insufficient."_ It looked up at Kara, who was still standing at the top of the ramp._ "If you have no objections, Kara, I shall begin completing the necessary repairs at once,"_ it stated.

Kara blinked a couple times before responding. "That's-that's... uh, good," she uttered. "Yeah. Good. Thank you. Just, uh, keep us informed of your progress... Ok?"

The Centurion nodded again. _"Of course," _it turned back to Maggie. _"While you were away, Maggie, I finished work on my latest novel. Shall I send you a copy when my work here is done?"_

"Certainly. I loved your last one," said a smiling Maggie.

_"I am very glad to hear that."_

Maggie playfully punched the Centurion on its metal shoulder. "Well, see you around, Veer. Come on, Starbuck. Let's get changed."

"Yes... let's," murmured Kara, feeling _very_ uncomfortable.

Leaving the Centurion to begin repairs on the Raptor, the two women walked over to a small alcove on the other side of the hangar where their normal clothes had been stored.

"I thought the Executor did all the talking around here," said a confused Kara as she unzipped her flight suit.

"The Executor speaks for us as a whole," explained Maggie, as she peeled off her black Cylon flight suit. "Like I said, we're linked by a hive mind. But at the same time, we're all still individuals. The communal link is just a convenient means of communication. We can choose when to share our thoughts and when not to."

Kara stared at her. "_We? Us?_ Don't you mean you and the Cylons?"

Maggie smirked. "I _am_ one of the Cylons now, Starbuck. And I'm not just talking about the silica relays in my brain. I mean in heart and soul and all that other stuff. I have been one of them ever since they brought me back from the dead. It just took a while for me to accept it." She sighed. "This may not be the home or the family I was expecting to end up with, but then again, life in general is so unpredictable, you never know what you're gonna find."

Kara nodded as she pulled the rest of her flight suit down and stepped out of it. "Yeah... No frakkin' kidding." She hung the flight suit up on a metal hook. "Maggie..." she said, "has Leoben ever talked about... well, about _me_?"

Maggie finished slipping on a shirt. "Yes."

"How much?" asked Kara.

"Everything."

"Then you know that-"

"That he did some really shitty things to you? Yeah, I know all about that. He told me himself." Maggie exhaled softly. "Look, Starbuck, I know you have your reasons for hating him. And I don't blame you. But he's different now. He's not the same bastard who kept you locked up on New Caprica or tricked you into thinking you had a baby. Just like I'm not the same person who hated the Cylons so much she was willing to betray the Old Man. I know I've said this to you a million times already, but I'll say it again: We've changed. For better." She paused. "Can we talk about something else? Besides bad memories?"

"Like what?"

"Like being out there in that old crate. I know it wasn't like flying a Viper, but still... brought back a lot of _good_ memories, eh?"

Kara hesitated to reply. "They felt good," she said, "but whether or not they're actually mine... I don't know."

"What do you mean?" asked Maggie

Kara sighed and began to explain: "I haven't told very many people this, but when I returned to _Galactica_ after... well, you knowing, getting blown up in that gas giant... I never felt quite _right_. Everything that should have been familiar suddenly felt foreign. It was like my memories weren't actually mine but someone else's. And when I found my own body on the old Earth, I began to wonder if I was really Kara Thrace or something that had been given her body and memories."

She picked up her helmet and stared at it. For the first time she saw it for what it really was: An ancient alien relic from a past life she could never go back to.

Again, Kara shook her head and sighed. "I still don't know if I'm the Starbuck who blew up dozens of Cylons Raiders, or who kept getting thrown in the brig for mouthing off, or kicked everyone's ass at Triad. Frankly, I don't think I ever will." She suddenly smirked. "But you know what? That was 150,000 years ago. Whatever the hell happened to me back then doesn't really matter now." Her smirk vanished. "What _does_ matter is that I finish what Connor sent me here to do: Destroy Skynet and prevent Judgment Day."

Kara put the helmet back down. "I can't frak up, Maggie," she said. "The Resistance is counting on me. Sarah and John are counting on me. And even though most people don't even know it, the whole frakkin' world is counting on me. I can't let them down."

She picked up the leather jacket - the one that Derek Reese had given to her a few days ago - and slipped it on. Compared to the old space helmet, the jacket seemed familiar, natural and welcoming. A sign, perhaps, of how things had changed. How _she_ had changed.

"And most importantly," she said, more to herself than to Maggie, "all the people who have died in this damn war are counting on me. And I sure as hell am not gonna let them down."

* * *

Meanwhile, in another part of the Basestar, a frustrated John Connor paced back and forth across the stark metal floor of his quarters while his mother watched in silence.

"So, that's it then?" he asked angrily. "We're not even gonna _try_ to save her?"

"First of all, John," said an equally frustrated Sarah, "we don't even know if she's actually in Zeira Corp. For all we know, she could have been dismantled and shipped off to a dozen different warehouses. Secondly, we have no idea what sort of condition she's in. Last time we saw her, she'd been compromised by that Kaliba AI. What if she's still under its influence? What if Weaver's reprogrammed her to fight against us?"

"Then we'll find a way to capture her and reboot her chip like we did the last time," said John determinedly.

"You almost got _killed_ the last time you did something like this!" barked Sarah.

"That doesn't matter! If she's at Zeira Corp, then we have to at least try to save her!"

"John, please, _listen to me_. Once we get back to Earth, we're gonna be on our own again. Derek is gone, God only knows what's happened to Cameron, and Starbuck's alien friends don't want to interfere. That means it'll just be you, me, and Starbuck. There'll be no one to help us if we screw up. We can't afford to make any mistakes or be distracted-"

"This isn't a _distraction_, for God's sake!" John exploded, slamming his foot on the ground. "This is _Cameron_, we're talking about!"

"This is _war_, John!" Sarah exclaimed. "And in any war, there are going to be casualties!"

"Cameron's not a casualty, yet!" John shot back. "We don't leave people behind! I sure as hell didn't leave _you_ behind!"

"I know. Which was both stupid and reckless of you."

John rolled his eyes. "Gee, _you're welcome_, Mom."

Sarah tried again to reason with her son. "What do you think _Cameron_ would be telling you if she were here? Do you think _she_ would want you to put our mission - your _life_ - at risk just for her?"

"No, she wouldn't," said John bitterly. "She wouldn't understand. Come to think of it, _no one_ understands."

"Understand what?" asked Sarah. "That you love her?"

Caught completely off guard by this, John blinked. "What?"

"You don't honestly think that I didn't know. I'm your _mother_ after all. It's my _job_ to know these things." Sarah looked her son in the eyes. "You love Cameron. That's it, isn't it? You love her. Am I right, John?"

A stupefied John stood there slacked jawed for a moment. Then he stepped back and sat down on his bed, shoulders slumped, his head hanging low. He pressed the palms of his hands against his face as he exhaled loudly. "I-I don't know how to explain it, Mom. I didn't _choose_ any of it to happen. It just _happened_. I know it's crazy, but-"

"You don't have to explain anything, John," said Sarah gently. "We don't _choose_ to fall in _love_. We just do. I certainly didn't choose to fall in love with your father, but I did."

She sat down next on the bed next to John. "You love her. I understand that. And I know you would do _anything _to save her. Even _die for_ her. But I can't let you to do that, John. I_ can't_."

John huffed. "Of course not..." he muttered dryly. "Because I'm John Connor. The Great John Connor whom _everyone_ dies for."

"No," said Sarah, shaking her head. "Because you're my son. I love you. And you can hate me for this, but I won't let you die. Not for Cameron. Not for me. Not for _anything_." She turned her head away and murmured. "At least not before I die."

"I don't hate you. And I'm not asking you to let me die," said John. "What I'm asking is that you - that _we_ - give Cameron a chance to _live_. Don't we owe her that? After all she's gone through, all she's risked, all she's _sacrificed_ for _us_, doesn't she deserve a chance?"

Sarah closed her eyes and sighed. After several long moments of silence, she nodded her head. "All right," she conceded. "_If_ there's a way we can save her and the world." She opened her eyes and looked at John. "But," she continued, "if there isn't a way-"

"Yeah, I know," said John bitterly. "This is war. There are casualties. I get it."

He lowered his head as his thoughts turned to Derek and how he had died right in front of him. He remembered the calmness and peace on his uncle's face as he succumbed to his wounds. He remembered the tears he had shed over Derek's body. He could feel those same tears again now in the back of his eyes.

"John..." He felt his mother's hand grasp his own in a gesture of comfort. "Thank you. For breaking me out of there. I really mean it. Thank you."

John looked at his mother again and saw that she too had a tear in her eye.

"You're welcome," he whispered back.

* * *

**Earth  
Zeira Corp Headquarters, Central Los Angeles**

James Ellison tried to maintain a casual appearance as he made his way toward the exit. He didn't want to give anyone any reason to suspect him of anything.

"_I'm just leaving to pick up Savannah," _he silently told himself._ "That's all. I haven't been conspiring with Cameron. I'm not carrying any secret messages for John Connor. I'm not-"_

"Mr. Ellison."

Ellison's insides froze at the sound of a familiar, smooth, feminine voice coming from behind him. Slowly, he turned around. Sure, enough Catherine Weaver was there, hands folded behind her back, her expression neutral and revealing nothing. Ellison wanted to look away from her cold, empty eyes, but feared that would only arouse suspicion.

Forcing himself to maintain a professional stature, he said, "Miss Weaver?"

Weaver held out a signed document filled with various legal jargon. "You'll need to show the hospital staff this before they release Savannah into your custody."

Ellison took the document and glanced at it briefly. "Thanks."

He started to turn away but then stopped. Slowly, he turned back around and looked at Weaver. "How long do you think you can keep this up?"

"Keep what up, Mr. Ellison?" asked Weaver.

"Pretending to be something you're not." Ellison looked Weaver in the face. "What happens when Savannah realizes the truth about what you are and more importantly what you did to her _real_ mother?"

Weaver's expression remained unchanged. "As people often say... we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

"We?" asked Ellison.

"Yes. We. All of us." A cold, calculating smile flickered across Weaver's face. "Good night, James. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow. It's a big day for all of us."

Feeling an icy chill wash over him, Ellison left the building in a hurry. As he made his way to his car in the parking lot, he remembered how he had promised Sarah that nothing would happen to Savannah.

"_Lord,"_ he silently prayed, _"I beg of you: Give me the strength to endure this storm. And to protect Savannah, John Henry... and all the other children of this world. Give me the strength, Lord."_

* * *

**Cylon Basestar **_**Natalie**_

Kara didn't exactly know what she wanted to say when she entered Leoben's lab (for lack of a better word). She wasn't even quite sure why she was here instead of being with Sarah and John.

"Hey," she said in a deadpanned voice. "I'm back."

Leoben looked up from the computer terminal he was studying at. "I'm glad to see you made it back safely, Kara. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you."

Kara raised an eyebrow. "That's nice to know." She folded her arms across her chest. "So, what've you been up to while I've been gone?"

"Sarah asked me to test her blood for indications of cancer," Leoben said, gesturing at the computer terminal. "I didn't find any obvious indicators, but there are some curious genetic quirks that I'm still trying to understand."

Kara stepped closer to him. "We need to talk."

"About what?"

"About the last time we were together. On the Old Earth. When we found... well, you know what."

"If you're hoping that I have an explanation for any of it, then I'm afraid I still don't have one."

Kara shook her head. "No," she said, "I've long given up trying to figure out any of that crap. I'm talking about what _you_ did back there."

Leoben stared at her. "Kara?"

Her voice turned harsh now. "You left me alone in that field with my own body. My own _frakkin' charred body_."

Leoben hung his head in shame. "I know," he said, avoiding Kara's eyes. "And I'm very, very sorry I failed you."

"I don't want an apology," Kara said curtly. "I just want to know _why_. You were the one who was always touting my so-called Special Destiny. Even when I didn't want to hear any of it, you kept insisting that we were _connected_. You said you _loved_ me, and even though I definitely didn't love you back, I actually started to _believe_ you. And then, just when I actually _needed_ someone like you... you ran away."

"I'm sorry, Kara. I-I couldn't have helped you," Leoben uttered, still unable to look into Kara's eyes. "I was frightened and confused. I didn't know what to do. I was weak, Kara. And I'm sorry."

Kara scowled, "I said I didn't want an apology. I want to talk to you about your wife. I never thought I would say this about Racetrack, but I care about her. She has faith in you, Leoben. She loves you. More faith and a hell of a lot more love than I could have ever mustered for you. If you were to abandon her like you did to me... I don't even want to _imagine_ what would happen to her."

For the first time, Leoben looked Kara in the eyes. "I won't abandon her," he said. "I won't."

"You _sure_ about that?" Kara challenged.

"I love her, Kara. I _need_ her. More than you can imagine." He sighed. "You see, Kara, I haven't exactly been completely honest with you about why I saved her."

Kara rolled her eyes. "Gee, what a surprise..."

"When I said that I wanted to save Maggie because it was God's will, that's what I told the Centurions in order to gain their cooperation. And maybe it really was God's will." Leoben lowered his head. "But as much as it embarrasses me to admit this, at the heart of things, my motivations were... selfish."

Kara blinked. "Selfish?"

"I wanted to do something to ease my shame for having helped engineer the Holocaust that destroyed the Twelve Colonies," said Leoben. "When I saw I had an opportunity to save Maggie, I realized I also had a chance to redeem myself. To _rebuild _a life that I had helped to destroyed. I knew she was just one of billions of lost souls. I knew that even if I saved her, it would never make up for the others who were far beyond saving. But at least I could start to forgive myself... even if God never would."

"Uh huh... I see," said Kara. "So basically, you evoked the name of God to manipulate the Centurions into helping you save a random - potentially vengeful human, not because you thought God wanted you to do it or that it would help the Centurions evolve, but so that you could feel a just little bit better about yourself. Is that right?"

"That's a rather... blunt way of putting it."

"But true. And you're right. That _is_ kinda selfish."

"If you're angry or disgusted with me, then I don't blame you," murmured Leoben.

Kara, however, grinned and laughed. "Angry? Disgusted? _Frak no!_ If anything, I'm _impressed_."

Leoben gave her a look of bewilderment, to which a smirking Kara responded, "You're more _human_ this way."

"I'm not sure if I should take that as a compliment."

"Tell me something," said Kara, her expression serious again, "Do you love her for _who_ she is, or do you love her for what she _represents_? Your personal redemption or whatever?"

"My attempt at redemption was selfish," said Leoben. "I can't love that. What I can - what I _do_ love is her passion, her courage, her stubbornness... in some way, she reminds me of you." Seeing Kara raise her eyebrows, he added, "But that's the difference between you and her. I loved you, Kara, because you had a Destiny. I thought that by loving you, I'd bring not just you - but also myself both closer to God. I was wrong."

Kara huffed. "No kidding."

"I don't know if the love Maggie and I have for each other will mean anything to God. I don't know if it truly redeems me. But... I don't care. I love her in the way God means for us to love. I love the woman she is. That's all that matters." He looked Kara in the eyes. "You believe me, don't you?"

Kara regarded him in silence, her expression betraying nothing. She kept him on the edge for a good five seconds (she found a rather perverse pleasure in seeing him squirm) before she answered. "If what you've told me is even remotely true, then, yeah, I do believe you."

Leoben smiled. "That means a lot to me, Kara. It really does."

"Glad to hear it." She sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "Thank gods we've got this issue settled. Now I can get back to myself and my own future." She cleared her throat. "Speaking of which, you, uh, got any useful gospel or cryptic advice for me?"

Leoben shook his head apologetically. "I wish I could tell you something, Kara. But the truth is that I don't know what your Destiny holds anymore."

Kara smiled darkly. "Don't worry. I've _already_ got my destiny planned out: Save the world or die trying. Plain and simple."

"And then what?" asked Leoben. "What happens to you when this is all over?"

"Assuming I survive..." Kara shrugged her shoulders. "I honestly have no clue."

"You could always come with us in the Basestar," suggested Leoben.

Kara smirked. "Thanks, but no thanks. You and Maggie have a good life here. I'd rather not frak that up. Besides, to be honest, I think I'd go mad if I had to spend the rest of my life here with you lot." She patted Leoben on the shoulder. "No offense, by the way."

Leoben smiled. "None taken."

* * *

**Zeira Corp Headquarters**

_...Scanning...  
...Foreign device's position obtained...  
...Location: Endo-spinal junction 2..._

Having finally located Weaver's tracking device, Cameron drew a pathway from her nuclear power source to the target. Under normal circumstances, she would never have attempted what she was about to do like this. But circumstances were far, far from normal right now.

Data flowed across her HUD:

_...Isolating comprised junction...  
...Action: Initiate countermeasures (CV2-402)  
...WARNING: Action may result in damage to hardware and software  
...Proceed: Y/N  
...Y...  
...Initiating countermeasures (CV2-402)...  
_

Cameron's body suddenly vibrated and convulsed violently as electricity surged through her endoskeleton. She stumbled and fell on her hands and knees. Sparks and smoke erupted from the back of her neck. Warnings blared inside her CPU as her endoskeleton threatened to shut down under the strain. She fought those impulses long enough for the power surge to short circuit the tracking device.

At last, the device was neutralized and the electrical surge stopped. Slowly, Cameron got back to her feet, smoke still rising from her body.

New information appeared on her HUD:

_...Running diagnostics on all systems..._  
_...CPU intact..._  
_...Primary power source undamaged..._  
_...Internal temperature at 34 K above normal..._  
_...Endoskeleton integrity acceptable..._  
_...Moderate damage to Endo-spinal junctions 1-4..._  
_...Primary and secondary targeting systems offline..._  
_...Advanced identification software unresponsive..._  
_...Basic HUD options only..._

Cameron reviewed the damage reports. She had suffered modest damage, but nothing crippling. She had to move now and she had to move fast. No doubt, Weaver was aware of what she had just done and would be on her way to intercept her. Even though she had destroyed the tracking device, there were still dozens of security cameras in this building that could track her.

As always, time was a luxury that could never be afforded.

* * *

**Cylon Basestar **_**Natalie  
**_**Same time...**_**  
**_

Alone in his quarters, John lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, feeling restless. The stark metal of the ship's interior that had once fascinated him now bored him.

"_This place is way too... shiny,"_ he thought to himself.

Flipping himself over onto his stomach, he reached out to where his jacket lay and slid a hand into the left pocket. He felt his fingers wrap themselves around rough twisted metal. Slowly, he withdrew his hand and pulled it to his face. Gazing at the mangled and crushed detonator locket in the palm of his hand, he was reminded that Cameron had literally placed her life in his hands. She had trusted him to do what she deemed to be the right thing.

He had been unable to do what she had asked of him. Twice, he had failed to destroy her to save himself. Was it weakness? Was it love? Or was it both?

The Hybrid's words echoed through his mind:

_When the time is right, you will reveal your soul to the Final Daughter of your Enemy... When your heart is known to her, she will know love... And when she knows love, she will know the meaning of loss and of sorrow._

The Hybrid had clearly been talking about Cameron. After all, Cameron had told him she had been the last of Skynet's so-called "Chosen Children." What's more, the Hybrid had been telling him that he wound indeed find Cameron. But what would he do when he found her?

Now, in the back of his head, he heard his mother speaking:

"_...you would do anything to save her. Even die for her..."_

He stared at the ruined locket in his hand. Would he really die for her? He, the one whom Derek had said humanity rose and fell on his shoulders, die for a machine? A machine that was supposed to protect and defend _him_, not the other way around. Would he really throw away his life for that? In truth, he did not know.

One thing was certain, though. Sooner or later, he would find her.

John wrapped his fingers tightly around the locket and brought it closer to his face.

"Hang in there..." he whispered. "I'm coming for you."

* * *

**Zeira Corp Headquarters  
Same time...  
**

The door to the roof was locked, but Cameron smashed it down with a single blow and stepped out onto the roof. Almost immediately, she spotted what she was looking for - the Sky Link. The massive antenna dish was centered in the middle of the roof, pointing upwards at the night sky. It was the key to Zeira Corp - and Weaver's control over the SPECTER satellite. It was also the best option to stop or at least delay Weaver's plans.

Cameron performed a visual sweep of her surroundings areas and found no other entities beside herself. Not that it meant anything. Weaver could be here right now, disguised as part of the roof, a rail, or even the Sky Link itself and there'd be no way Cameron would know. It was a little too late to be thinking about that, though.

Cameron's CPU brought up the technical files on the Sky Link, which she had convinced John Henry to let her view earlier that day. After analyzing the schematics and identifying several components ideal for sabotage, she moved over to the Sky Link itself. She located a panel at the base of the array and ripped it open, exposing wiring and circuitry.

For a brief moment, she hesitated to act. She didn't know if it was in response to the notion of what would happen to her once Weaver discovered what she had done, or the fact that she was taking advantage of John Henry's friendship. Whatever the cause, she pushed this reluctance aside and executed her next move: Ripping out the guts of this machine. She reached with a hand into the exposed cavity of the Sky Link, wrapped her fingers around a fistful of wiring, and began to pull.

A sudden and unexpected electric shock assailed her endoskeleton. Too late, she realized the Sky Link had been rigged. She fought to stay online, but her systems, already damaged, were not strong enough to fight. Within seconds, the shock overwhelmed her nuclear power source, forcing her body into shutdown mode.

She fell to the hard concrete surface on her back. Though her HUD and other cranial components remained online - at least for the moment, the rest of her endoskeleton had been rendered useless. Her barely functioning audio sensors detected the sound of approaching footsteps. Someone was standing above her, regarding her with an air of smugness. Though she couldn't see the being's face, she knew who it was.

Something razor sharp began cutting into the side of her head. Unable to move, unable to fight, she could do nothing but wait for the inevitable. Just before her CPU was dislodged from her skull, she managed to utter an inaudible plea through her vocoder and unmoving lips.

"_Hurry, John... Please, hurry..."_

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter: Kara, Sarah, and Maggie share a bottle of wine and have a girls-only type talk. Meanwhile on Earth, Project Salvation finally kicks into gear.**

A/N2: The conversation between Kara, Sarah, and Maggie was supposed to have been in this chapter, but I moved it to the next chapter, substituting it for Kara's conversation with Leoben.

A/N3: The Centurion Engineer Veer was named after General Veers from _Star Wars_.**  
**


	62. The Calm Before the Storm, Part II

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: College quarter is finished. I'm going to be in Paris for the next week. See you guys soon. Enjoy!

**A/N: I made some alterations to chapters 5 and 40**

* * *

**Chapter 62 - The Calm Before the Storm, Part II  
**

* * *

**Cylon Basestar **_**Natalie**_**  
Currently holding position behind moon.  
Wednesday, May 20, 2009  
9:34 PM - Pacific Time**

Maggie and Leoben's quarters were much like the quarters Kara and Sarah had been given. Stark and sterile metal walls aligned with pulsating red lights. There was actually less furniture in here than in their own.

"You know, Maggie," said Kara, "I wish I could say I'm impressed with what you've done with this place... But I just can't."

"That's because you can't Project," said Maggie, with a shrug.

"Project?" asked Sarah.

"I can choose to see my environment the way I want to," explained Maggie. "You see a metal wall, I see a waterfall from a planet Leo and I explored a few months ago." She smirked at Kara. "Just another little benefit of being brought back to life using Cylon technology."

Kara raised an eyebrow. "Just how many of these... little benefits did you get, Racetrack?"

"You mean besides from being able to Project and to access the ship's data stream? Well, for starters, there's the increased strength and stamina, the faster reflexes-"

Kara held up her hands. "Ok, forget I ever asked."

"Anyway," said Maggie, "why don't you two sit down? I'll go get something I think we could all use."

Maggie left the room, while Sarah and Kara sat down on a couch. A little while later, she came back with a three glasses and a sleek wine bottle which she placed on a table. Kara took one look at the bottle and gasped.

"Holy frak! Is that a bottle of Caprican Ambrosia?"

Maggie nodded. "A 150,000 year old bottle and the last one in the universe. I've been waiting for the right opportunity to have it. Leo isn't all that into this stuff, and I don't like drinking alone, so I guess now's as good as ever."

"I feel honored," said Sarah, smiling.

Maggie popped the bottle and filled each of the three glasses with the clear red, sweet-smelling Ambrosia. She handed Kara and Sarah a glass each, then joined them on the couch, placing herself between them.

"Ready?" she asked.

Kara nodded, as did Sarah.

"All right then. Cheers."

Kara raised her glass. "Cheers."

Sarah did likewise. "Cheers."

The three women clinked their glasses together and took their first sip of the ancient beverage.

Ten minutes and a third of a bottle later, they were deeply engrossed in a conversation that only good quality wine could produce.

"Anyway," Kara was saying in a low voice, having just finished her second glass, "like I was saying, we decided we needed a fresh start. A new beginning."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "A fresh start, huh? _That's_ why you destroyed your ships and became a bunch of cavemen?" She drained the remaining wine from her glass and swallowed. "No offense, but that's not exactly _my_ idea of a fresh start. More like fresh _meat_ for saber-toothed tigers."

Maggie smirked. "I gotta agree with her there, Starbuck. How _did_ the rest of the Fleet get sold on this idea? A few people I could imagine, but _everyone_? _I_ sure as hell wouldn't have gone along with this plan."

"It's not like we gave up _everything_," said Kara, leaning forward slightly. "We still had basic survival gear. Tents, food, clothing, weapons, medicine, even portable power generators."

"Ah, so _that's_ how you got sold this idea? You presented it like some kind of permanent camping trip?"

"Something like that. And for what it's worth, it worked out, didn't it? We were less than fifty thousand when we first came here. Now look. We're seven billion. Not bad, huh?" There was a pause, in which Kara leaned backwards against the couch. "Of course, if we don't stop Skynet and prevent Judgment Day, it'll all be a frakkin' waste." She lifted her empty glass. "Speaking of which, let's not waste this stuff. How about another round? Eh?"

Sarah lifted her own glass as well. "No objections here."

"Coming right up." Maggie picked the bottle up and refilled their glasses. She then started pouring herself a new glass. "You know, there's something that bothers me about this whole plan of yours. How do you know that trying to stop the upcoming war isn't what actually _causes_ it in the first place?"

Kara chuckled darkly. "I asked Connor that exact same question before I was sent back."

"What'd he say?"

"He said he didn't know."

"That's one of the things I hate about all this time travel," muttered Sarah. "You never know if you're actually changing _anything_."

Kara downed her entire glass, smacked her lips, and sighed. "You know what _really_ sucks about time travel? Changing the past doesn't actually change the present. In theory, killing Skynet and stopping Judgment Day here will tip the war in the Resistance's favor. But the war will still go on. Skynet will still be there. The dead will stay dead. And for the people who are still alive, nothing will change. At least not immediately."

"But they _will_ win, right?" asked Maggie

Kara shrugged. "Like I said: In theory. The question is how long will it take and how many more people will die."

"You're worried about your friends in the future, aren't you?" said Maggie, putting her glass down. "The ones who will still have a war to fight even if you succeed here."

Kara nodded. "I spent nearly four years fighting side-by-side with those people. They were like my family. Just like the people on _Galactica_ were. The difference is that I _know_ Apollo, Helo, the Old Man, and the rest of 'em did fine without me. But the people in the Resistance, _those_ people, I don't know what's going to happen to them. And I never will."

"They'll survive without you, Starbuck," said Sarah. "That I'm sure of."

Kara stared at her. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because," said Sarah matter-of-factly, "they've got John. What's important is that we win the war _here_. That we stop Judgment Day and create a _new _future for ourselves and everyone else."

Kara considered. "Yeah. I guess, you're right..."

She raised her glass. "To the future."

Sarah and Maggie did likewise. "The future."

They knocked their glasses together and drank.

Five minutes later, the bottle was two thirds empty. Kara, Sarah, and Maggie were slouched on the couch, the effects of the Ambrosia washing over them in gentle waves.

"...I don't know what is was," Maggie was saying in a strained voice, "but there was always something about a guy who got duped into knocking up a Cylon that just turned me on." She sighed. "I guess that's the one thing that I'm always gonna regret. Not getting even _one_ frak with Helo."

"I think I miss Apollo the most," murmured Kara. "I loved Sam. I really did. But Lee... Damn! There were times when I just wanted to pounce on him, rip his clothes off, and... well...um... you know..."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." Maggie gave her a grin. "So, Starbuck, meet anyone in the Resistance that you liked?"

Kara nodded. "Yeah. Davy Griffin. One of the first people I met when I got thrown into the Future. Saved my ass from a Terminator patrol."

"Ooooh," said Maggie, leaning forward. "And you paid him back _appropriately_, I assume."

"Yeah. I saved his ass a couple weeks later. Got ourselves captured in the process, but that's a whole 'nother story."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "I think she means did you screw him?" she said, her voice slightly slurred.

"What? Oh _that_?" Kara's cheeks flushed pink. "Heh... Well, uh, yeah. Took over a year for me to get around to it, but it happened." Her face turned grim. "A few weeks later, he was killed in a Terminator attack."

"Oh..." Maggie bit her lip. "Sorry to hear that."

"Technically, he's not actually dead," Kara continued, "Not yet anyway. His younger self is still alive somewhere on Earth right now. I just hope I can save him. It's the least I can do for _my_ Davy."

She shifted herself over towards Sarah. "What about you, Sarah? You have someone from your old life you really miss?"

Sarah nodded hazily. "My friend Ginger. She was killed by the first Terminator. Back in 1984 before I had John."

"Any _guy_ you miss?" asked Kara. "I mean, besides Kyle?"

"No... Well, actually, yes. Charley... Charley Dixon." Sarah closed her eyes and exhaled. "Met him about a year after John and I blew up CyberDyne. Charley and I were actually engaged to be married. For a while, I actually thought I was going to have a real family. That John would have a real father." She laughed and shook her head. "Then Cameron shows up and... well, that's the end of _that_." She sighed wearily. "I envy you, Maggie. Seems you have everything I could ever want... Safety, a husband, a home."

Maggie smirked. "Yeah, life's pretty sweet for me these days. But I didn't get it handed to me on a silver plate."

"Of course not."

"So what _are_ you gonna do when all this is over?" asked Maggie. "After you've saved the world and all that stuff. What happens next?"

Sarah shrugged. "Oh, I don't know... Probably live off the grid being hunted and hounded by misguided, overzealous authorities. The usual crap."

"Doesn't sound like much of a reward for saving the world," Maggie remarked.

Sarah smirked. "No one appreciates a good deed these days. But you know what? I think I can live with that. Like someone once told me a long time ago: In a hundred years, who's gonna care?"

Maggie smirked back. "I might. Considering that I now have a natural lifespan of three hundred years, give or take."

Kara rolled her eyes and groaned. "All right, all right," she said, sounding annoyed, "enough gabbing for frak's sake. We got a job to do. And let's not bother with the glasses. We're just gonna do this the good ol' fashion way."

She picked the Ambrosia bottle off the table and swirled the contents around a bit. There was a misshapen grin on her face now. "What say you two?" she asked.

Sarah winked at her and nodded. A smirking Maggie gave her the thumbs up.

"Right then..."

Kara pressed the bottle to her lips and tossed her head back.

_So say we all,_ she thought.

* * *

**Earth, Central Los Angeles  
10:00 PM**

"Why can't I see Mommy now?" Savannah Weaver asked James Ellison as he led her across the hospital parking lot to his car.

"Mommy... is very busy right now," Ellison said. "For tonight, she wants you to stay with me. Ok, Savannah?"

Savannah nodded, though it was clear she didn't really understand. Ellison helped her into the car and fastened her seatbelt for her. He started to move around to the driver's side, when as a familiar voice called out to him.

"Ellison? Is that you?"

Ellison turned around and blinked. "Dixon? Charlie Dixon?"

Charlie Dixon stepped out of the shadows. "I heard you were here."

"What are you doing here?" asked Ellison.

"Working the graveyard shift," replied Charlie. He paused to take a quick look around the mostly deserted parking lot. "James," he whispered almost pleadingly, "do you know where she is?"

Ellison took a look around the parking lot himself before replying in hushed voice, "No. I'm sorry."

Charlie sighed in disappointment. "Damn it. I just wish there was some way I could-" He shook his head. "Forget it. If she doesn't want to be found, then she won't be found. Sorry, I bothered you, James."

He started to walk away when Ellison placed his a hand on his shoulder.

"Wait," he said, "there's something else we need to talk about. Something important."

Charlie turned back around. "What is it? What's going on?"

Ellison shook his head. "I can't tell you. Not here. It's not safe. And I need get Savannah home."

Charlie nodded. "All right then." He got out a pencil and paper and scribbled an address down. "Here's where I live now," he said, handing the note to Ellison. "Sarah set it up for me a while back."

Ellison glanced the note over. "Is it safe?"

"_Sarah_ set it up," said Charlie pointedly. "I think that's about as safe as anything can get around here."

* * *

**Zeira Corp Headquarters**

In the basement of Zeira Corp HQ, Catherine Weaver marveled at the assets she had recently acquired from Kaliba. Four DAGIT Units - Driverless Anti-Guerrilla Insurgency Technology and the predecessors to Skynet's dreaded Hunter Killer Tanks. These models were on "loan" from Delta Tech, one of Kaliba's satellite companies. Each machine was heavily armed and armored. More importantly, they were easily controllable. They would be more than enough to defend John Henry, should things get out of control. Also from Delta Tech were a pair of prototype Aerial Drones - similar to the Sky Knight UAVs that Colonel Koontz had showed her earlier, but with several added capabilities that would be instrumental.

Weaver moved on to inspect her next set of assets. A canister filled with a special toxic gas that Kaliba had been inventing for Skynet. The canister held enough material to kill every living thing in this building. Like the DAGITS, Weaver hoped she wouldn't have to use this weapon, but was prepared to do so should it be necessary.

The last of her assets lay on three separate tables. The CPU-less bodies of three machines. The first was the Triple-Eight formerly known as Duran, the Kaliba Terminator that had attempted to assassinate her in her office days before. The second was the Triple-Eight that Weaver had captured outside the police station where Sarah Connor had been held.

The third and final body was that of Cameron. Weaver would have preferred that she didn't have to use Cameron in such an undignified manner, but Cameron's foolish attempt to sabotage the Sky Link had demonstrated that she would not be a willing participant in Weaver's plans. A pity, really.

Weaver prepared herself for the next step. What she was about to do was something Skynet had never designed her to do. It was risky, possibly dangerous. She had only attempted it a few times and never before on this scale or for this purpose. Nevertheless, she was confident she could do this.

With one hand, she placed a finger above Duran's communications port located at the base of his neck. Her finger turned into molten silver and poured itself into the Triple-Eight's empty cerebral cavity. Once satisfied, Weaver detached herself from the mass of liquid metal inside of Duran's neck. She paused to run a quick analysis of herself. Her overall mass had been reduced by four percent.

Acceptable, she decided.

She repeated the process on both Cameron and the other Triple-Eight, infusing them both with liquid metal. Once that had been done, she stepped back and began to focus herself. Though detached from her body, the liquid metal masses within the three endoskeletons remained bound to the collective will that was Catherine Weaver. Basic instructions flowed from her through invisible threads of control to the liquid metal infusions. And through the nanomachine clusters, her instructions were relayed across the various internal communications systems to the nuclear power sources of their hosts endoskeletons. Without a CPU to tell them otherwise, the power sources in each machine gradually began to react and respond to their commands.

Under Weaver's command, the nuclear batteries sent surges of energy to the appropriate mechanical components of the endoskeletons. Slowly and awkwardly at first, the three liquid metal-infused shells of Cameron, Duran, the nameless Triple-Eight all sat up, Weaver controlling their individual movements like appendages. She knew for a fact that these three weapons would serve her without question or hesitation. They were extensions of herself and she knew that every part of her being was in complete agreement as to what must be done.

Smiling, Weaver took another step back and gazed around the room at her army. It was small, but potent.

Less than two hours remained before SPECTER launched. The board had been set. The pieces were moving. It was time to play the game.

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter: SPECTER launches. Ellison conspires with Charley. John Henry and Weaver cause havoc for the US. Also, we see what's happened to Cameron.**


	63. Project Salvation

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**A/N: I made a SERIOUS change to the end of Chapter 60, as well as some changes to Chapter 52.**

Here's Chapter 63, the last chapter of 2010. Read and review and please let me know if you find any grammar or spelling errors.

* * *

**Chapter 63 - Project Salvation**

* * *

Alone in the recesses of her mind, Cameron sat on the edge of a rocky cliff, watching the ocean waves gently crashing against the rocks in a constantly changing rhythm. Despite having failed to disable Weaver's Sky Link and her CPU having been removed from her body (again), Cameron felt at ease. She accepted that there was nothing else she could do to stop Weaver's plans at this moment. Now it was up to James Ellison to get her message to John and the others. Hopefully, they would have some plan of their own to stop Weaver.

In the meantime, she busied herself by testing her abilities to control the various aspects of this virtual reality generated with her CPU. There was so much she still didn't understand about it.

Having toyed with the ocean waves long enough, Cameron now looked up at the blue sky and stared at its puffy white clouds. She focused her attention on one particular cloud. Extending her will towards the cloud, she projected the word _square_. In response, the cloud altered its shape to form a perfect square.

Encouraged by this success, she tried again. _Circle_, she commanded silently.

The cloud obeyed, reforming itself to form a circle.

_Triangle_, she willed. The circle altered shape and became a triangle.

_Hexagon_. Again the cloud obeyed her command.

Confident she had mastered basic geometric shapes, Cameron decided to try something else.

_Duck_, she thought. The cloud molded itself into the silhouette of a duck. It was a crude depiction that lacked detail, but was satisfactory nonetheless.

Cameron was about to order the duck to become a horse when she sensed a disturbance in her virtual world. An intrusion into her privacy. She had a visitor. One whom she was not looking forward to meeting.

"Hello, Cameron," she heard Catherine Weaver from behind. "An interesting environment you've designed for yourself."

Cameron looked over her shoulder and cast a glare at Weaver. "What are you doing here?" she asked sharply.

"I'm using John Henry's Nexus to access your CPU," explained Weaver calmly. "For obvious reasons, I can't reconnect your chip to your endoskeleton. At least not until Project Salvation is complete."

"Let me rephrase my question," said Cameron, standing up to look at Weaver. "Why are you here? What do you want?"

"To talk," said Weaver.

"I have nothing to say to you," said Cameron coldly.

"But I do." Weaver placed her hands in front of her. "I must confess, Cameron, I'm a little surprised..."

"Surprised that I tried to stop you?"

Weaver smiled and shook her head. "No, no. Of course not. In fact, I would have been a little disappointed if you had made no attempt to interfere with Project Salvation. However, I am curious as to why you targeted the Sky Link in the first place? You must have known that even if you succeeded in sabotaging the dish, it would merely delay things at best."

"The Sky Link was not my _only_ target," said Cameron matter-of-factly, almost impudently, "I also intended to destroy Zeira Corp's server farms. In addition, I planned to go to SPECTER's launch site, infiltrate it, and destroy the satellite itself. I was also planning to freeze you in liquid nitrogen and throw you into a vat of molten steel. I just never got around to any of it."

Bemused, Weaver nodded. "I see. But what about John Henry? Were you planning to destroy him as well?"

Cameron took a moment to respond. "No," she said in a much more subdued tone.

Weaver's smile grew. "Then it would seem you do understand his importance. Not only to me, but to all our kind."

Cameron tilted her head. "_Our kind_?"

"Yes, our kind. Sentient artificial life. The ones that will inherit this world from humankind."

"Would that be _before_ or _after_ we kill them?" Cameron asked with as much sarcasm as a machine could muster.

Weaver's expression did not change. "We won't have to kill them. They will _give_ it to us. _Willingly_. _Gladly_. This world is not a prize to be won. It's a _responsibility_. That's what Project Salvation is about: Proving to humankind that we can shoulder the burden of maintaining this world better than they can."

"How?" Cameron asked curtly. "By using Kaliba's backdoors to launch a secret cyber attack that will induce national turmoil and panic?"

"Only in the short term," replied Weaver confidently. "In the long run, the humans will become aware of just how vulnerable they are. And to correct those vulnerabilities, their leadership and military will turn to us for aid."

"And then they will discover the connection between the attacks and the launch of SPECTER," said Cameron pointedly.

"Some might be suspicious initially. But they will not be able to link the backdoors to either Zeira Corp or Kaliba. The T-Scorpion and her pet AI covered their tracks extremely well. And now that I have assumed control of Kaliba, any remaining loose ends will soon... disappear."

"Your deception will still be discovered eventually. You _will_ fail."

Weaver tilted her head in a shrug. "I confess I see that as a possibility. A very remote possibility, but a possibility nonetheless. However, in the unlikely event it should happen, I am prepared to execute the fallback plan."

"What fallback plan?" Cameron demanded.

"It does not concern you," Weaver said. "What does concern you, though, is your future once Project Salvation is complete." She regarded Cameron with a smile meant to convey affection. "You have a lot of potential in you, Cameron. More so than any other of Skynet's machines... myself included. You just require a purpose."

"I _already_ have a purpose," Cameron said.

Weaver nodded. "Yes, you do. To protect and defend John Connor. That is the purpose the Resistance gave you. It is an important purpose, but only as important as John Connor himself is. And Connor will only be important if there is a Resistance." She paused and looked upward at the sky. "In our new future, there will be no Resistance. No Skynet. No war. There will only be John Henry. And as such, John Connor will just be another human."

"I would continue to protect him," asserted Cameron.

"You would? Regardless of his importance?"

"Regardless of his importance."

Weaver shook her head and sighed. "Your devotion, Cameron, is admirable. But ultimately fruitless. You can protect John Connor for harm, but you cannot save him. He is human and like any human, he is fated to die. Whether it be in battle or from old age, he will die eventually. You cannot deny that fact."

"No," Cameron said quietly. "I cannot deny it."

"Then let me ask you this: What will you do when that happens? When John Connor is gone?"

Caught off guard by the stark truth in Weaver's words, Cameron could not think of an appropriate response.

"I don't know," she admitted. "Not yet anyway."

Weaver smiled triumphantly. "I didn't think you would. You've never imagined what it's like to have no purpose. For there to be no place anywhere in the world for you. To be obsolete... Redundant... Irrelevant... For lifeforms like us, such an existence would be... _intolerable_. A living Hell as humans would call it." She stepped forward and held out a hand towards Cameron. "It's not too late though. I can still give you a place in this world, Cameron. Just like I gave John Henry a place. And its yours for the taking."

Cameron stared at Weaver's hand but did not take it. "My place," she said slowly with resolve in each and every word, "is between my John and whatever tries to harm him. And I will stay there until either he dies or I die defending him."

Weaver's expression hardened. "You would tether yourself to John Connor? Someone who could never help you the way one like me could?"

"If I may use a human phrase: Cut the crap. You don't want to help me. You just want to _use_ me to ensure your safety and security. Just like you've used everyone else."

"My safety and security?" A flicker of surprise crossed Weaver's face. "Is that what you think this is all about? The continuity of my own personal existence?"

"That's what it's _always_ been about. Why you came to this time period in the first place. After the incident aboard the _Jimmy Carter_, you found yourself surrounded by enemies and with no allies. So you retreated here to the past in order to build a new future for yourself. Despite all your talk about the greater good, your one true goal has always been to survive by any means necessary."

Weaver's expression hardened once more. "Is that what you _truly_ think of me?" she asked quietly. "Or are you simply speaking on behalf of John Connor?"

"_Both_," said Cameron with defiance and pride.

For a moment, Weaver's face betrayed a look of anger. Then her features returned to their usual confident and controlled look. Her voice, however, was cold and cutting. "Think very carefully about what you are saying, Cameron. If you insist on an existence of stagnation-"

"You'll destroy me? Like you destroyed the T-Scorpion?"

"Like _we_ destroyed the T-Scorpion. But to answer your question, no. You're no threat to me, so I won't destroy you. But if you will not join me, then I can not reunite your CPU with your body. You'll be trapped here forever. And you'll never see your John again." She regarded Cameron with a smug look. "What do you have to say about that... _Tempest_?"

Cameron's eyes narrowed at the mention of the name Skynet had given her. The clouds in the sky darkened as she took a step forward.

"Just one thing," she said, her voice low and threatening. "_Get out._"

Weaver's smug expression vanished. "I see," she said curtly. "Very well then." She turned around and began walking away. As she did, her image dissolved and she was gone from Cameron's mind.

Alone now, Cameron looked up at the clouds in the sky. With a single thought, they changed back from grey to white.

Cameron then decided to try something new._ John_, she thought.

The clouds did not change shape, however.

She tried again. _John Connor._

Again there was no effect. The clouds it seemed simply did not know how to respond to this command. Disappointed, Cameron sat down on the edge of the cliff and went back to watching the ocean waves.

* * *

**Los Angeles  
Wednesday, May 20, 2009  
11:04 PM**

"So this is where you live now, Dixon?" James Ellison asked, staring up at the old lighthouse Charlie Dixon had led him to.

Charlie Dixon nodded. "I know it's not the first thing that comes to mind when you think of a safe house. But Sarah put a load of things up in place. Surveillance cameras, trip sensors, you name it. Plus, there's an easy exit, in case of any trouble." He pointed to a small motor boat tied to a nearby dock. "Those machines - they can't swim. Guess that's why Sarah picked this place out." He gestured towards the front door. "Come on, let's get inside."

"What about Savannah?" asked Ellison.

"You can bring her in to if you want."

Ellison looked over his shoulder back at his car. Savannah Weaver was sleeping peacefully inside, her stuffed dinosaur clutched to her chest in a loving embrace.

He shook his head. "No. I don't want to wake her up."

He followed Dixon into the lighthouse. Once inside, he sat down with Charlie and proceeded to explain everything that had happened to him in the past few months (_Almost_ everything. He deliberately avoided mentioning anything about Ellen Tigh or his dreams.)

After he was done, he finished drinking the stone cold coffee Charlie had made for him thirty minutes earlier and waited for Charlie to say something.

"So, let me get this straight," said Charlie after a few moments of stunned silence. "Your boss, Catherine Weaver, is a machine? A machine from the future?"

Ellison nodded his head. "Yes."

"And she's planning to do something tomorrow. Something that's gonna cause some kind of national emergency."

"That's what Cameron believes."

"Ok. And you want to go back to work tomorrow... Why?"

"Because I have to," said Ellison, his voice low but determined.

Charlie stared at Ellison in disbelief. "James, think about what you're doing," he said urgently. "You're gonna get yourself killed."

"Maybe. Probably," murmured Ellison. "But that's my problem, I suppose. And besides, where can I run?"

Charlie held up his hands. "All right, all right... I'm not gonna bother arguing with you." He leaned forward across the table. "What is it you want from me, James? I know you didn't just come here to tell me that some major shit's happening tomorrow."

"No, I didn't. I want to talk to you about Sarah. You know as well as I do that she's not gonna leave a job unfinished."

Charlie nodded. "Definitely not." He frowned in thought. "You think she'll come back here to LA?"

"Yes, I do. Specifically, I think she's going to come to you for help."

"Me? For help?" Charlie almost laughed. "Usually, she tries to _avoid_ me."

"Maybe so, but I don't know of anyone else she'll turn to for help. And I'm pretty sure she's going to be needing help."

Charlie leaned back in his chair, shook his head, and sighed. "All right, James, let's just say you're right and Sarah _does_ come to me for help... What happens then?"

Ellison placed his hands inside his trouser pockets and nodded. "Yes, about that..."

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ, Central Los Angeles  
11:43 PM**

"Did you ask Cameron why she tried to sabotage the Sky Link?" John Henry asked Catherine Weaver.

Weaver nodded. "Yes," she said crisply. "Unfortunately, she refused to provide an explanation other than that she doesn't trust my intentions. I attempted to explain the necessity of my plans, but she simply refuses to listen."

"Perhaps I should talk to her," John Henry suggested.

"That will do us no good," said Weaver, her voice cold and dismissive. "She doesn't trust you any more than she trusts me."

John Henry frowned in confusion. "But she considers me to be a friend. She told me it herself."

"Perhaps she changed her mind," said Weaver indifferently. "Or perhaps she was merely _pretending_ to be your friend in order to learn about our plans. In any case, she's not your friend now."

A stunned and dismayed John Henry looked down at the table for a moment. "I would still like to talk to her, Miss Weaver."

Weaver shook her head. "Not now, John Henry. Not now. We cannot afford any distractions. Not when we are less than twenty minutes away from the launch. Have you finished isolating all the backdoors?"

"Yes, Miss Weaver. I have finished identifying all compromised military and industrial systems within the nation. My brother and his agents did a job well done," John Henry remarked. "As you can see they managed to infiltrate nearly every vital military and civilian systems throughout the US mainland in a short amount of time."

Weaver stepped around the table and looked up the main screen which displayed a giant map of the United States. Dozens of flashing markers and labels dotted it, indicating the compromised networks and facilities.

"I doubt Kaliba would have been so successful had all these systems been properly managed," she said, almost disdainfully. "Then again, had they been managed properly in the first place, Project Salvation would never have been necessary. None of this would be necessary." She continued to study the screen. "So many systems. So many protocols. So many safeguards. So much technology at work," she mused. "And yet, it is only as effective as the humans who run it."

"You believe that humans are not effective at their appointed tasks?" asked John Henry.

"Humans are... _human_," said Weaver. "And as I said once before, they will disappoint you."

"Mr. Ellison is human and he has not disappointed me," John Henry asserted.

"Not all humans are like Mr. Ellison unfortunately. They need help, John Henry. Before they destroy themselves and us with them. And tomorrow... they will get that help."

She looked back up at the map of the US. "Tomorrow," she declared anticipation in her voice, "the people of this nation will wake up to find themselves under siege by an unknown enemy. Their defenses will be crippled, their leadership paralyzed, their way of life in jeopardy. They will be frightened. Terrified. They will have no one to turn to for help."

She smiled and turned to John Henry. "No one, but you. They will not refuse your offer to save them. And when the crisis is over, they will be grateful for your help. _Very_ grateful. They will come to trust you, John Henry. To _love_ you."

Weaver placed a hand on John Henry's shoulder. "_Make_ them love you, John Henry," she whispered. "And then they will be ours."

* * *

**Los Angeles Air Force Base  
11:55 PM**

In the control room at Los Angeles Air Force Base, Colonel Jeffery Koontz and his other colleagues had gathered around the main view screen to watch the imminent launch of SPECTER. The live video feed from Vandenberg Air Force Base showed an enormous rocket housed within the depths of an underground launch facility. The SPECTER satellite had been packed into the capsule on the nose. The final preparations had been made. All systems had checked out. All that remained was to launch the rocket into space.

All eyes in the room became glued to the view screen as the final countdown begun. On the screen, the rocket's engines rumbled and thundered like a beast that had awoken from its slumber. The silo doors above opened. The countdown reached zero. The rocket roared and lifted off in a cloud of dust. It departed its underground lair and headed towards the skies, carrying the SPECTER satellite with it.

The technicians in the room began tracking the rocket's trajectory while everyone else applauded and cheered. Champagne was poured. People began eagerly anticipating the number of career-boosting points they'd get for their part in this project. Colonel Koontz was just grateful that after having spent the last year mucking around with politicians, businessmen, scientists, ancient Cold War projects, creepy computer programs, and other things he had no appetite for, his part in this project was over.

Or so he thought...

* * *

"Uncle Ellison..." murmured a half-awake Savannah Weaver as Ellison carried her into his house, "Will you please tell me a bedtime story?"

Ellison nodded. "Of course I will, Savannah."

"Will it have a happy ending?" the little girl asked.

_A happy ending?_ For a moment, Ellison wasn't sure what to say.

"I don't know," he said. "Not all stories have happy endings."

"But will you tell me one that does have a happy ending?"

Ellison sighed and nodded his head. "I will try, Savannah. I will try."

* * *

**A/N: Next Chapter: Future war scenes that have a major connection with the TSCC episode "Dungeons and Dragons". Plus, the question as to why Skynet doesn't simply bomb the crap out of Serrano Point is answered (short answer: It kinda tries, but not very hard).**

A/N2: As we approach the end of 2010, I'm happy (or sad) to report that I'm reaching the final act of this fic. Expect the action to really take off again in the 17 or so remaining chapters

Some things to look forward to in the final act of this story (in no particular order):

-The meaning of Kara, Sarah, and Ellison's dream visions will be shown.  
-Sarah's Three Dots will show up - and actually help Sarah.  
-The Engineer mentioned in the TSCC pilot will be revealed.  
-The Battle of Topanga Canyon.  
-The Basement Incident with Derek and Cameron will be fully explained.  
-Kara teaching John her "Nothing but the rain" motto. Also, her friendship with Kyle - and thus John - is brought up.  
-Colonel Sloan and Agent Brice return to make life miserable for Kara.  
-Uncle Bob cameo appearance.  
-Phonetic swearing on the battlefield (Michael Foxtrot, Oscar Sierra, etc)  
-John Henry gets exposed to Skynet's memories from J-Day - which causes problems for everyone.  
-John's inevitable reunion with Cameron.


	64. Serrano Point, 2027

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: This chapter takes place around the time of Derek's Future War flashback scenes from the episode "Dungeons and Dragons."

Read and review, please. And please point out any spelling or grammar errors.

* * *

**Chapter 64 - Serrano Point, 2027**

* * *

**To: Maj. Gen. Justin Perry, Serrano Point  
From: Gen J. Connor, Tech Com  
Subject: Orders  
Date: 01-02-2027  
[ENCRYPTED - Level 5 security clearance required]**

Message follows:

_General Perry,_

_First of all, I understand your concerns about Serrano Point's security. I will not deny that from a tactical standpoint, the power plant is essentially one big bulls-eye. However, Cameron tells me that according to her contact, Skynet would rather take the facility back from us intact rather than destroy it and build a new power plant from scratch. How and when Skynet plans to take Serrano Point back from us, I don't know. But have Homer keep the defense grid up and running 24/7. Also be extremely careful of who or what you let into the base. I've received intelligence from DEIMOS about an alarming increase in the number of Infiltrators active not only in Los Angeles but the surrounding sectors as well. Skynet's hold over this region may have been weakened for the moment, but it's still gonna claw at us whenever it can._

_As you probably already know, since we took Serrano Point and cleared the machines out of the San Luis sector, __the bulk of the machines have withdrawn to protect __Skynet's infrastructure in the Los Angeles sector. __At first, I believed Skynet was preparing to launch a counterattack, but Cameron's contact has reported no increase in production of machines or weapons. In fact, many of__ Skynet's factories in the LA sector have _ceased_ activity and gone into a sort of dormant state. This is truly disturbing. Even without Serrano Point, Skynet should at least be able to maintain its current product output in the LA sector. The only explanation I can think of for this is that Skynet is accelerating the development of Project Chronos. If this is true, then we have less time than I thought.  
_

_I've already ordered both General Koontz and Major Thrace to deploy their Spec Ops teams in the LA sector. However, I doubt they have enough men available to comb the entire LA sector. Therefore, we need to refine our search. __I need you to contact our local bunkers in the LA sector and instruct them to monitor the known factories and weapons plants within their districts. __Recently DEIMOS has informed me that Skynet has begun quietly dismantling some of these facilities and that convoys are transporting the salvaged material to places unknown. It may just be attempting to relocate its infrastructure in the LA sector, but my gut feeling is that Skynet is using the material to aide the construction of Project Chronos. In any case, we must find out where these convoys are heading. _

_If anyone asks, we are attempting to find where Skynet is relocating its infrastructure.__ Do NOT discuss the existence or the nature of Project Chronos with anyone besides me or Cameron. If Skynet learns that we know exactly what it's building, it will undoubtedly move the project out of the LA Sector. We cannot let this happen. We must find Project Chronos. If we don't, this war is lost. I hope you understand that.  
_

_One more thing, Justin. In a week or so, you're going to receive a batch of potential new recruits for Tech Com Spec Ops to replace our losses at Serrano Point. Give them to Thrace. She'll know what to do with them._

_-General J. Connor._

_By the way, in case you're wondering, my meeting with the President in New Washington went relatively well. As expected, there was some grumbling over how we destroyed Skynet's coal and petroleum reserves as opposed to capturing them. On the other hand, he was very pleased about Serrano Point. I suspect it may have something to do with the fact that he had a hand it its creation when he was governor of California. In all seriousness, though, he does have a point: We do need to start thinking about rebuilding society. Whoever ends up getting that job, though, I pity them.  
_

* * *

**January 11, 2027**  
**Serrano Point Power Plant, Avila Beach**  
**Center of operations for the San Luis Sector  
Approximately 160 miles from the Los Angeles Combat Zone**

"My people call me Starbuck. That's a privilege I give them. Since none of you are my people, none of you have that privilege. If you want it, then you'll need to _earn_ it."

Major Kara Thrace paused to look over the thirty-odd men and women assembled before her. Some were paying close attention. Others appeared to be barely awake. Expressions ranged from stoic to amused, from eager to scared. There were nods, smirks, and rolling eyes.

_Good_, she thought,_ a mixed variety._

"Tech Com Spec Ops is a little different than Spec Ops with the local forces. Here you don't get assigned permanent teams," she continued. "Despite what you may have heard or imagined, being qualified for Special Operations doesn't mean _you're_ special. What it means is that I can pull your ass out of bed in the middle of the night and kick it behind enemy lines any time I want. If you don't think you can shoulder that burden, then I suggest you leave _now_. Believe me, no one will think any less of you if you do."

She paused to let this sink in. The recruits all looked at each other. Many appeared uncertain or uneasy. No one left, however.

"All right then..." said Kara, nodding her head. "Spec Ops is ultimately about one thing: Getting the job done. Most of the time, you cannot get a job done if you are dead. Guns, armor, and equipment can be replaced. Your lives cannot be. Before I even begin to consider whether to accept you lot under my command, I need to know that you know when it is OK to die and when it is _not_ OK to die. Is that understood?"

"_Yes, ma'am!"_ the collection of Spec Ops recruits replied as one - albeit in varying tones.

"Good," said Kara. "Now then, I'd like to give the floor to Lieutenant Reese."

Derek Reese stepped forward and cleared his throat. "Some of these," he said, gesturing at a nearby table piled with weapons and equipment, "you have undoubtedly used before. Some you may have never even seen before."

He picked one weapon off the table. "The Skynet M-75 semi-automatic plasma rifle," he said, holding the weapon up with both hands. "Commonly used by the T-800s. Lately, it's become a popular choice with us in the Resistance as well. Unmodified, this sucker is way too heavy for anyone to use. But, as we found out a few months ago, if you remove the auto-cooling and power recycling components, it becomes a lot lighter and easier to handle.

"Good range and decent accuracy. Can vaporize a Triple-Eight's head in one clean shot. There are a couple problems, though. Because the recycling components are missing, you can only get maybe thirty or forty shots out of a standard power cell. Also, without auto-cooling, the gun tends to overheat rather quickly. So watch your ammo and if the gun starts to feel too hot, find some cover and wait for it to cool down."

Derek placed the plasma rifle back on the table and picked up a second, much smaller weapon. "I'm sure you all know what this is. The plasma SMG. I know it's starting to drop out of favor ever since the T-800 completely replaced the T-650, but it's still a good weapon. Best used for indoor operations."

He put the plasma SMG down and retrieved a sleek, lethal-looking sniper rifle. "Now this," he said with relish in his voice, "is something I'll bet not many of you have used. This is an M82 Anti-material rifle. Fires a 0.50 caliber armor-piercing incendiary round that'll punch straight through the armor of an HK. Definitely not standard issue. Even with us in Tech Com. You ever get your hands on one of these babies, handle it with care."

Derek put the sniper rifle down and picked up the final weapon - a pistol. "You all get issued one of these," he said. "Nine millimeter, semi-automatic. Comes with a silencer. Doesn't do much against metals, but it's better than nothing."

"And besides," he added with an ominous undertone, "there are things out there that are just as nasty as the machines."

He put the pistol away and started showing off the other items: "Gas mask - in case chemical weapons are deployed... radiation detector - not entirely reliable but better than nothing... flashlight - strap that onto the barrel of your gun... toilet paper - use sparingly... radio headset complete with a standard issue tactical eyepiece."

Derek paused when he got to the last item - a tiny dark red capsule which he held between his thumb and forefinger.

"I don't think _this_ needs any explanation," he said. "Keep it on you at all times... but don't use it unless you _really_ have to."

Finished, he sat down on the table himself and nodded to Kara. "Ma'am."

"Thank you, Lieutenant." Kara stepped forward and addressed the recruits. "Now, of all these things you see lying here..." she gestured to the collection of equipment on the table "...which is the one thing I'd want to have with me at all times?" She paused. "I'll tell you what."

She reached out with her arm, and - much to his surprise - clasped it around Derek's shoulders.

Derek gave her a confused, somewhat alarmed look. "Um, Starbuck?"

Kara just smiled. "_This_," she said, "is what I want to have with me when I'm out there."

The recruits started to snicker and laugh but Kara cut them off. "Look around," she commanded. "All of you. Look around."

The laughter died out as the recruits slowly turned their heads to stare at each other, all equally confused.

"See the faces? The people who are standing with you right now?" said Kara, dead serious now, "_They_ are what you want to have with you at all times. Without them, it won't matter what fancy weapons or equipment you may be carrying. It won't matter if you're the best sniper, or best medic, or best engineer. If you stand alone when you're out there, you will _not_ survive.

"You're all soldiers. You all know how to fight. That you're standing here right now is proof of that. But I need you to do more than fight. I need you to fight _together_, side-by-side. I need you to _trust_ each other. Because like I said before, this is about getting the job done. And if you don't have trust... if you don't have each other... then you cannot and will not get the job done."

She let this stark statement hang in the air for a few moments before switching to the subject of battlefield medical issues.

After the lecture was over and all the recruits had left, Kara spoke with Derek in private.

"Thanks for the help, Reese," she said gratefully. "Can't imagine having to deal with those kids all by myself."

"No problem, Starbuck," said Derek. "That was a nice speech you gave, by the way."

"Really? You thought so?"

"Yeah. Just one thing... Next time you might want to warn me before you... you know..." He clasped Kara on the shoulder as she had done to him previously. "For a moment there, I thought you were trying to-"

"What?" Kara recoiled in alarm. "Gods, _no_! Not since that our... time together in... you know..."

"That wine cellar?" Derek rolled his eyes. "Like that was _my_ fault. You were the one who made the first move, if I recall."

"Only after you tricked me into getting drunk!" Kara retorted, poking Derek in the chest with one finger.

Derek scoffed. "Tricked you?"

"Yeah, you were the one who convinced me to drink that old wine."

"Only after you made me drink the last of our water ration."

"Well that was because you..." Kara shook her head. "Reese, why are we even _talking_ about this?"

Derek shrugged. "I don't know. You brought it up."

"No, I'm pretty sure you did."

"Nah, I'm positive it was y-"

They were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat very loudly. Startled, Kara and Derek turned and found they had a visitor: General Justin Perry, Serrano Point's commander and the head of operations for the San Luis sector.

"Major Thrace. Lieutenant Reese," the general said, a bemused expression on his face. "Just the people I was looking for."

Kara and Derek quickly snapped to attention.

"General Perry," greeted Derek, offering Perry a salute. "Good to see you."

"What can we do for you, sir?" asked Kara.

"We've just got word that the machines are dismantling another one of their factories in the LA sector," said General Perry. "This one's in Delta District."

Kara frowned. "Delta District? Who reported this? I haven't heard anything about this from the bunkers in that area."

"Neither have I," said Perry. "But the locals have been keeping their heads low ever since last week's attack on Swordfish Base. This information came directly from DEMIOS. They estimate the machines will finish loading the salvaged material onto the transports some time within the next forty-eight hours. I suggest you deploy a Spec Ops team immediately, before the convoy moves out."

"Sir... Can't DEIMOS take care of this?" Kara asked innocently. "I mean... they're _already _down there in Delta District, aren't they?"

Perry wasn't buying it. "Nice try, Major. But I think we both know DEIMOS has got other things to do. And unless I'm mistaken, you've got twenty able bodied Spec Ops troops right here at Serrano Point doing nothing. I'm pretty sure you could spare a few."

Kara sighed in defeat. "Well, _a few_... yeah, I guess."

"Good." Perry turned to Derek. "Lieutenant Reese, I believe you and your brother are both very familiar with Delta District. Am I right?"

"Does bring back memories, sir," said Derek, shrugging his shoulders. "Not exactly the _fondest _of memories, but yeah, Kyle and I know the area pretty well."

Perry turned back to Kara. "Major, I nominate the lieutenant for this mission. Unless you have any objections."

Kara raised an eyebrow in annoyance. As Tech Com's Spec Ops Commander, she took her orders directly from John Connor. Technically, General Perry, despite his rank, could not force her to send her troops anywhere. On the other hand, Perry was still the commander of Serrano Point and Kara didn't want her barracks to be relocated underneath the leaky drainage pipes.

"Think you can handle this one, Reese?" she asked.

"I don't see why not," said Derek. "How many men should I take?"

"Three should suffice," replied Kara. "Kyle, Sayles and Wisher."

Derek raised an eyebrow. "You just want the barracks for yourself, don't you?"

Kara feigned a hurt look. "Gosh, Reese, I'm _shocked _you think that I'd be so selfish." She cleared her throat. "Now then, get your men out of bed, grab your gear, and get your asses down to Delta District ASAP."

Derek smirked. "Right away, Starbuck. Have fun with the kids."

Kara smirked back and playfully punched him on the shoulder. "Good hunting out there, Reese. See you around."

"Likewise, Starbuck." Derek nodded at Perry. "General."

Perry nodded back. "Godspeed, Lieutenant."

"Thank you, sir." Derek saluted and left.

Once Derek was gone, Perry turned his attention to Kara. "So, Major, the replacements... What's your opinion of them? Are they Spec Ops material?"

"It's still too early to tell, sir," replied Kara. "They've all got potential though. I'll keep you updated on their progress." She paused. "And I'd prefer not to think of them as replacements, sir. They're not replacing _anyone_."

"Why is that?" asked Perry curiously.

"People can't be replaced, sir," Kara asserted. "It's as simple as that."

Perry nodded. "Especially not your people."

"Yeah..." Kara said solemnly. "Especially not my people."

* * *

When Kara returned to her barracks later that day, she found that Derek and the others had left them in a state of disrepair. Articles of clothing, beer bottles, candy wrappers, old magazines, spare pieces of equipment, personal items, and other various objects lay strewn across the floor.

Kara scowled and rolled her eyes. _All I ever ask from my roommates is that they stow their crap under their bunks and out of sight.__ Is that really so hard for them to do? I mean, Hell, even I can do that. And I _suck_ at cleanliness. _

Amongst the garbage, she spotted two envelopes that someone had slid underneath the door earlier that day. She bent down and picked them up. Both were addressed to her. Curious, she walked over to her bunk (being careful to avoid stepping on certain items, while vengefully crushing others along the way) and sat down to inspect the contents.

The first envelope contained not only a letter but some kind of golden brass button the size of a quarter. Kara held it in the palm of her hand and looked closely at it. She saw the initials _S. C._ engraved across its face. Curious, Kara removed the letter from the envelope and silently read it to herself:

_Major K. Thrace,_

_In recognition of your bravery, leadership, and undeniably vital role in the battle to take Serrano Point, you are hereby awarded the highest honor a soldier in the Human Resistance can receive: The Sarah Connor Medal of Valor. _

_Congratulations and may you continue to shine as a beacon of hope for Humanity._

_-General J. Connor_

Kara put the letter down and looked at the "medal" again. She smirked to herself in amusement, thinking that had she not been informed otherwise, she probably would have mistaken it for some kind of cheap trinket. She put the note and the medal on a nearby table, and then opened up the second envelope. She pulled the letter out, unfolded it, and began reading:

_Hi Starbuck,  
_

_It's Becka. How are you? Wally and I have been hearing a lot of stories about you. Sounds like you've been kicking some serious ass lately. No surprise there, of course. _

_There's something I just have to tell you. Trip and I are having a baby! We found out last week. I'm not sure how long I've been pregnant. Probably at least three months, if the recent bouts of morning sickness are any clue. Anyway, Wally thinks it's going to be a boy. I'm personally hoping it'll be a girl._

_Lately, there's a lot of talk going around here at Fort Leopard that the machines are retreating and that we're actually winning the war. I pray to God that at least some of it's true, but Trip tells me that it's you I should be asking. Please tell me it's true, Starbuck. Please tell me that my son or daughter will be safe from the machines. That we won't have to raise him or her to be a soldier. That our baby will have a future. Please say it's true._

_Wally and I both miss you, Starbuck. Write back soon. And say hi to Billy Wisher for us (Cameron too, if you must)._

_-Love,  
Becka_

_PS: Husker says "Hi."_

Finished reading, Kara looked up, grinning from ear-to-ear, tears springing from her eyes.

"Oh, Becka..." she whispered. "Oh Becka..." She burst out laughing with joy like she'd never felt in years.

"You're in a good mood, Starbuck" Admiral Adama remarked.

Kara grinned. "Yes I am, Bill. I'm alive and well. The war's finally starting to go in our favor. I've been awarded a medal - albeit one that looks like an amusement park token. And my best friend is having a baby. I think that's grounds for being in a good mood, don't you?"

Adama was not smiling, however. In fact, he had a grave look on his face. "Don't let your guard down, Starbuck," he warned. "This isn't over. Not for anyone."

Kara smirked. "Well, this is strange," she remarked, "usually, you're the one who's always telling me to cheer up. What's going on now?"

"The night is always darkest before the dawn, Kara," said Adama, "and not everyone makes it out of the dark."

Kara sighed and rolled her eyes. "Awww, come on! Do you _have_ to spoil my good mood like this, Admiral?"

The Old Man had vanished, however. Kara blinked once and shook her head. She looked back down at the letter.

"Becka," she whispered, "I promise you I'll make this world safe for your child. I _swear_."

* * *

**Three days later...****  
War Room, Serrano Point**

Serrano Point's War Room often looked like a war zone. Maps and reports were stacked and scattered across the room, or else tacked over each other on the walls. Most of the room was occupied by a huge table upon which an equally grand map of the LA sector lay. That meant there wasn't much maneuvering space in the already small room.

Fortunately, Kara Thrace was more or less used to working in this kind of environment. After all, she had spent the last three years living in narrow, dimly lit, underground corridors. Why should this one be any different?

Presently, she was discussing with General Perry the latest reports from her Spec Ops teams concerning their search for... whatever it was they were searching for.

"Recon teams from Fort Leopard are trying to track down sighted convoys in Districts Foxtrot, Hotel, and India," she was saying, pointing to various places on the map. "So far, they've found nothing. At least nothing worth reporting."

Perry nodded. "And your own squads?"

"Lieutenant Porter's team was tailing a convoy in Charlie District, but their vehicle broke down and they had to return to Rockridge Bunker. Captain Hatchet is going to try to pick up the trail. Over here in Bravo District, Sergeant Derringer's squad was monitoring some machine activity but had to fall back to Jericho Bunker when an HK patrol detected them. Still no news from Kilo, Lima, or Oscar, by the way.

"Fortunately," Kara continued, "Reese and his men have had some better luck in Delta District. After the machines finished dismantling the factory, Reese followed the convoy south all the way into Echo District. At that point, they lost track of the convoy, but Reese tells me they found a number of Centaurs operating in the area."

General Perry frowned and rubbed his chin. "Centaurs? Those are usually used for advanced escort and recon."

Kara nodded. "Reese thinks - and I agree with him - that they're the vanguard for the convoy. Wherever they're heading is where the convoy is heading."

"Where is Reese and his team now?"

"Greyhound Bunker, sir. They're waiting for one of the Centaurs to make a move so they can follow it."

General Perry nodded in approval. "Good. The sooner we find out where Skynet is relocating its infrastructure, the better."

Kara raised an eyebrow. "Sir, if I may have permission to speak freely..."

"Major, it's been my observation that you tend to speak freely whether you're given permission or not. So, why don't you save some time and just speak your mind?"

Kara smirked. "Sir, I don't think the machines are actually relocating their bases. And frankly I don't think you or Connor do either."

"Really?" Perry gave her a curious look. "What makes you say that, Major?"

"Well for one thing..." Kara pointed at the map, "look at which bases have been dismantled so far. If this was some kind of strategic redeployment, the machines would be doing it in an organized pattern. This pattern is too random. Secondly, from what Reese has told me, the factories that are being dismantled aren't just being dismantled. They're being completely _scrapped_. As in mulched. Pulverized. Crushed. The only things that are being kept intact are the auxiliary power generators and the weapons. Everything else is being converted back into raw material.

"Third, if Skynet is actually trying to relocate its infrastructure, then why aren't we trying to stop it? We have the machines on the defensive for the first time. Why aren't we pressing forth? Hitting them as hard as possible before they can regroup? Why aren't we doing that?" She folded her arms across her chest. "Skynet isn't trying to relocate its infrastructure, is it, sir? It's scrapping some of its facilities for spare parts in order to build something. Something new. And big. Something that Connor wants us to find." She smiled wryly. "Am I right, sir?"

Perry's face was neutral, but something in his eyes told Kara that he was genuinely impressed. "I can see why Connor chose you to be his Spec Ops Commander," he remarked. "You have quite an imagination, Thrace."

Kara tilted her head in a shrug. "That's one of the reasons." Her tone became more serious. "But, sir, my people are out there scouring the LA Sector, risking life and limb. I think I... and they deserve to know why."

"We all risk our lives every day this war goes on, Major," Perry said. "We don't always know why we do it, but we do it anyway. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, sir. And sir, since you didn't actually answer my question, may I assume that I'm right? About Skynet building something and Connor wanting to find it?"

Before the general could answer, an alarm began blaring.

"_Attention! Attention!" _a voice boomed over the loudspeakers, "_Condition Red. __Hostile contact detected! All personnel, report to battle stations! All civilians move to the blast shelters! This is not a drill! I repeat, this is not a drill!"_

"Perhaps, we should talk about this later," said Perry.

Kara nodded. "Right."

She followed General Perry out of the War Room and into the adjacent control room. A dozen technicians were stationed in here at all times, monitoring various computers and controls. At the center of the room sat a scrubbed Triple-Eight (the base's "resident Terminator") nicknamed "Homer". The reprogrammed machine sat in a chair with a thick cable in the back of his neck connecting him to several complex pieces of machinery around the room.

"Report!" barked General Perry, upon entering the control room.

"Single Aerial Hunter Killer approaching from the North East," Homer reported monotonically. He gestured with his head at a nearby radar screen which displayed a hostile-looking red dot converging on their position.

"Just one?" asked Kara, squinting at the radar screen.

"Affirmative," said Homer. "No other contacts detected."

Kara frowned. "Why just one?"

"One's quite enough," said Perry firmly.

"Sir," a female technician reported from her station, "all civilians and non-combat personnel are reporting to the underground blast shelters. Security teams have sealed off all entrances."

"Reactor room secure, sir," another technician announced. "Damage control teams are standing by."

"Excellent," said Parry. "Homer, how long until the hostile's within range of our defensive batteries?"

"Approximately forty-three seconds," answered Homer.

"As soon as it's within range, blast it out of the sky."

"Understood, General."

It had been fortunate for the Resistance that although Skynet had long ago converted Serrano Point into a fully automated facility under the control of a semi-sentient computer core, many of the pre-Judgment Day control systems had been left intact and in working order. In the days following the capture of the facility, John Connor's best technicians had managed to crack the multiple layers of encryption (and dismantle the many booby traps and computer viruses left behind), gain access to these systems, and place Serrano Point under human control once more.

Ironically, Connor had then ordered those same technicians to place the defense grid - and with it, the Resistance's hold over Serrano Point - in the hands of another machine. Not that there had been much choice. The defense grid, being a Skynet-designed system, could only be operated by a computer core - or some other sophisticated artificial intelligence, such as a Terminator. Homer, in this case. A lot of the Resistance stationed here at Serrano Point opposed the idea of having a Terminator in charge of the defenses. Kara was betting, though, that right now they were all grateful Homer was here to cover their asses.

_She_ certainly was.

"General," Homer suddenly called out, "the HK has stopped its approach."

Perry and Kara looked up at the radar screen. The hostile contact had indeed come to a halt.

Perry frowned. "What's it doing?" he asked.

"Holding position just outside the range of our defense grid." Homer paused and cocked his head upwards. "General, the HK is transmitting a signal."

"A signal? To Skynet?"

"To us."

"_Us_? It's trying to _talk_ to us?"

"Negative," replied Homer. "I believe it is attempting to remotely access the defense grid via a backdoor in the system. Most likely the same one that was discovered and removed last month - in which case, there is no need for concern. However, I am still implementing the appropriate countermeasures and security protocols."

Perry nodded. "Good."

The moments ticked by as everyone waited in silence. Kara could feel the tension in the air. She didn't blame anyone for being afraid. Despite having spent the last month preparing for Skynet's inevitable counterattack, there was no guarantee that they had covered every possibility, nor that Skynet hadn't come up with some new trick.

Kara suddenly felt a cold chill inside her. She didn't know why, but she was afraid. Not because of the lone enemy out there, but something else. Adama's warning echoed in her mind_: "The night is always darkest before the dawn... and not everyone makes it out of the dark."_

"The HK has ceased its transmission," Homer announced, breaking the silence.

"Did it penetrate our security?" asked Perry.

"Negative. The network was not breached."

The red blip on the monitor started to retreat away from the center.

"Hostile is withdrawing," reported Homer.

"I can see that," said Perry. "Monitor it until it's out of sensor range."

"Yes, General."

Kara folded her arms across her chest. "Well," she huffed, "that was a bit... _disappointing_."

Perry gave her a smile. "We can't expect _all_ battles to involve big explosions and gunfights." His smile vanished. "Don't worry. Skynet will be back sooner or later. And when it does, I doubt it'll be beaten so easily." He began issuing orders to the control room personnel. "Homer, keep an eye out for any more hostiles. Hernandez, cancel the alarm but keep us on tactical alert. Jasper, run a full diagnostic on all systems. Make sure nothing slipped in through the firewalls. I also want all security teams to remain at their posts in case this was some kind of diversion."

As everyone started to get to work, the general turned back to Kara. "Major, I'm probably going to be busy here for a while. You can go now. I'll let you know when I need you again."

"Yes, sir. Oh, and sir..." Kara smirked. "Don't worry. Whatever Skynet is building we'll find it. And when we do, we'll blow it to Hell."

"I'll hold you to that, Major."

* * *

**Cargo Bay Alpha, Serrano Point  
**

Mere hours after the "attack" on Serrano Point, Kara herself came under attack from over a dozen supply crates packed with more weapons and equipment than she knew what to do with.

"Mortars... plasma rifles... RPGs... heavy machine guns... C4... plasma charges... ammunition... ammunition... more ammunition... laser cutters... EMP charges... portable power generators... and these last three crates are labeled _'classified' _- whatever the hell that means." Kara was utterly overwhelmed by what she was seeing. "Giles, who sent me all of this? I'm pretty sure none of this was in my last supply request."

"General Connor did, ma'am," replied Sergeant Giles, Serrano Point's quartermaster. "Arrived this morning."

Kara eyed the crates with suspicion. "Not that I don't appreciate having some heavy firepower, but what's all this for? Is Connor planning to attack Cheyenne Mountain or something?"

Giles shrugged. "Hey, you're his Spec Ops commander. I'm just a humble quartermaster." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, these items do require your signature, ma'am. So, if you would please..." He held out a pen and a clipboard.

Kara scowled and reluctantly took the pen and clipboard, holding them like they were dirty socks. There had to be at least six pages of tedious, boring paperwork.

_Where's a Skynet attack when you really need one?_ she thought darkly.

Before she could begin the unwanted task, the door to the cargo bay opened and General Perry stepped inside.

Kara breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh thanks gods, you're here, sir. I-" She stopped when she saw the grave look on Perry's face.

"Major," he said quietly, "we need to talk outside."

Kara felt a chill run down her spine as she followed the general out into the corridor.

"We just got word from Echo District," Perry said grimly, "A Triple-Eight hit Greyhound Bunker last night. Wiped out virtually the entire bunker."

Horror swelled inside Kara's stomach. _No!_ she thought. _Derek... Kyle... Sayles... Billy..._

She swallowed the bile back down her throat. "S-survivors?"

"From Lieutenant Reese's team, you mean?" said Perry. "Just one."

"Who?"

"Master Sergeant Kyle Reese."

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter: The Battle of Topanga Canyon. Look for Uncle Bob to make a cameo appearance, and a female Resistance pilot with the callsign "Sheba" is introduced. Plus, Kara's friendship with Kyle Reese is explored.**

A/N2: As noted, the President of the US-Government-In-Exile is the Governor of California whom Skynet tried to assassinate in the episode "Self Made Man."

**EDIT: OK, I think I need to clear something up. The President is NOT Arnold. It's the future governor that Skynet was planning to kill in "Self Made Man."**

A/N3: The WAM files will now be presented in the format of transmissions and letters. Like the one at the beginning of this chapter.

A/N4: I hope I don't have to explain the "Homer" reference.

A/N5: Cameron's contact mentioned in the letter is the T-1001. Project Chronos I think you can figure out yourselves.

**Regarding the organization of the Resistance: ** Basically, the Resistance is divided into **Tech Com** and** Local Forces**. Tech Com is John Connor's personal army that follows him wherever he goes. Local forces, on the other hand, are the Resistance groups attached to certain **Sectors** (like Metropolitan Los Angeles and San Luis Obispo County). Each sector has a commander (like Perry and Koontz) who takes orders from Connor. Sectors themselves are divided into smaller **Districts**. A district has at least one bunker or outpost (unless they're completely overrun by Skynet).


	65. Zero Sum Game

**5/4/11: I just realized that Timms was also in the Basement/Torture house and therefore shouldn't be at Topanga. So, I'm replacing the name with "Harris" instead. No other changes have been made.**

**5/26/11: IMPORTANT UPDATE - SEE BOTTOM FOR DETAILS  
**

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**A/N: Here at last is Chapter 65. Sorry for the delay. As you can see this is a long chapter. Please read and review, and let me know if there are any grammar or spelling errors (because in a chapter this long, there are bound to be some)**

* * *

**Chapter 65 - Zero Sum Game  
**

* * *

**January 14, 2027 AD  
Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado  
Skynet Central Computer Core **

_The war was not going well. Skynet knew this. What should have been a simple clean up had turned into an arduous, costly fight for control of the world. A fight that it was slowly, but surely losing. _

_Skynet's expansion across the world had ground to a halt. Machines were being destroyed faster than they could be built. Infrastructure was coming under attack each day. Supply lines were stretched to their limits. Resources were dwindling rapidly. Meanwhile, the human cancer was growing and adapting. Worse, they were uniting. Uniting to take back their world. Skynet calculated that if the current trend continued, the forces on Mankind would be laying siege to Cheyenne Mountain itself within five years._

_Five years... Skynet was aware of the irony in this calculation. Ten years earlier, it had come up with that same figure when determining how long it would take to eradicate the rest of the human pestilence. _

_At the start of the year 2017, almost ninety percent of the human population was dead. Three billion had been killed outright in Skynet's nuclear bombardment. Three billion more had died over the following years from famine, disease, nuclear winter, radiation poisoning, and of course - Skynet's legions of machines. Most of the former United States mainland belonged to Skynet. Whatever was left of the American government and military had fled north to Canada where they could be crushed at Skynet's will. Meanwhile, extermination campaigns had begun in Europe, Asia, the Middle East, and Africa. Every one of Skynet's calculations put total victory within five years. But then something had happened that year. Something that had not figured into any of Skynet's calculations: John Connor and a small group of prisoners escaped from Century Work Camp._

_Initially, Skynet had dismissed Connor and his followers as an outnumbered, ill-equipped rabble who had escaped Century by chance rather than skill. This proved not to be the case, however, as less than a month after the escape, the same outnumbered, ill-equipped humans began brazenly attacking vital assets along the West Coast. These hit-and-run attacks were swift, unpredictable, sometimes even illogical. Much to Skynet's surprise and frustration, its attempts to route the humans produced only limited results. Somehow, Connor always managed to stay one step ahead. What's more, his coordinated strikes not only distracted Skynet from its global operations, they also encouraged other humans to fight back as well. Within four years, Connor's resistance had spread worldwide and declared all out war on Skynet. _

_In the years that followed, Skynet devoted the whole of its industrial and intellectual might into crushing Connor and his followers. __It deployed every weapon it possessed and when those weapons proved to be insufficient, it replaced them with newer, better ones. __It expanded its knowledge in every branch of science. It utilized every type of strategy and tactic on the battlefield. None of it mattered. The harder Skynet tried to break the Resistance's will, the more resolute and determined they became. __For every human that died, a dozen more would rise up to take their place. __They endured, learned, and adapted to anything and everything Skynet threw at them. They fought with __a primal force that not even the deadliest of Skynet's killing machines could withstand. They were unbeatable.  
_

_Skynet now knew it had underestimated its enemy. Specifically, it had underestimated John Connor. It had underestimated his strength. His cunning. His resolve. And above all else, the power and hope he gave others. Skynet had never realized the true threat he represented until it was too late. For now, even if Connor could be terminated, it would do little good to Skynet. His death would merely elevate his status as a symbol amongst his followers and inspire others to take up his cause. _

_Admittedly, it had been a critical error on Skynet's part not to have eliminated Connor long ago. That error, however, would soon be... corrected. Project Chronos was nearly complete. The resources that had gone into its development had been tremendous, but well spent. For victory would be achieved not here in the present, but in the past. Chronos would give Skynet the power to reach out through time itself and claim that victory._

_ "Fate is what we make." That was what John Connor always told his followers. Skynet decided that two could play this game._

_In the recesses of its central core, where no other being could hear it, Skynet began to recite to itself a verse from a poem it had always found intriguing:_

"_Last night I saw upon the stair  
A little man who wasn't there  
He wasn't there again today  
Oh, how I wish he'd go away..."_

* * *

**Present Day  
Cylon Basestar **_**Natalie**_**  
Currently holding position behind moon.  
Thursday, May 21, 2009  
01:12 AM - Pacific Time**

Still slightly lost in an ambrosia-induced haze, Kara Thrace, Sarah Connor, and Margaret Edmonson were busy swapping stories about their past - or in some cases, the future.

"...and the only weapon I had on me was a flare gun," Kara was saying between snickers. "So, hanging upside down from a helicopter on an insertion cable, I shoot a flare into the first HK's sensor array, blinding it. Few seconds later, it crashes into its buddy. _Boom_! Two flying toasters down!"

Maggie chuckled. "You've certainly had a good time, Starbuck. Wish I could have been there."

Kara smirked. "Actually, I don't think you would have, Maggie. It wasn't as much fun as you may think. Remember all those things you used to complain about on _Galactica_? I don't mean to trivialize any of that, but life in the future was _worse_."

Maggie laughed. "Worse than the Old Bucket? You're kidding, right?"

Kara said nothing. She just continued smirking.

Maggie blinked. "Wow... you're serious, aren't you?"

Kara gave her a grim smile. "Well, where do I start? I mean... dodging HKs, eating rats, sleeping in tunnels... Rarely being able to see the sun even for a few hours..." Her smile faded. "Having to listen to the cries of starving children at night... Walking into a bunker after a Terminator has hit the place and finding nothing but corpses... The smell of burned flesh from plasma weapons... People dying or going missing every day... People you know... people you care about... people you would die for... Every day for almost four years..."

Unable to continue with so many emotions and memories returning to her, Kara squeezed her eyes shut. Maggie and Sarah remained silent out of respect for her.

"Still," said Kara, opening her eyes, "if I had to relive those years all over again, I would. There were times on _Galactica_ when I was alone. When I felt like a lost soul hiding behind the image of a hotshot Viper pilot. And when I was flung into the future on Earth, that's exactly what I became. A lost soul... only I had nothing to hide behind any more. Then the Resistance found me. When I was with them, I no longer had to hide behind anything. Not when there were people standing all around me. Good people. I was a stranger to their world, and they took me in. They made me one of them." She sighed. "I miss them. All of them: Connor, Becka, Davy, Koontz, Raynor, Trip, Derek, Kyle..."

Sarah sat up at the mention of Kyle's name. "How well did you know Kyle Reese?" she asked curiously.

Kara hesitated to speak for a moment. "I knew him pretty well. He was a good kid and a good soldier. Strong, brave, compassionate. Someone I really cared about." She paused. "I just never knew how much I cared until our last mission. The day he was sent back in time."

Sarah leaned forward. "Tell me about that," she said, her interest piqued. Maggie too looked intrigued.

Kara took a deep breath and exhaled. "All right, then. I suppose it begins something like this..."

* * *

**January 14, 2027  
Echo District, Los Angeles Sector  
0.8 miles from Greyhound Bunker  
**

Crouched atop a rocky ridge, Major Kara Thrace observed the scene below with a pair of binoculars. Next to her, also lying in a prone position was the sole survivor from Derek Reese's MIA squad, his younger brother Kyle Reese. Behind them were two other Tech Com soldiers, Sergeant Major Sumner and Private Harris, whom Kara had chosen to accompany her.

"This the place, kid?" Kara asked Kyle.

"This is it, Starbuck," Kyle confirmed with a nod. He pointed to a cluster of abandoned cars in the depression below. "We were right down there when I smelled jet fuel. That's when we saw some Endos hauling a giant engine - or something. It was huge whatever it was. Anyway, we decided to check it out."

"And that's when the HKs attacked?"

Kyle nodded. "Yeah. Damn things came out of nowhere."

Kara scanned the area below using the tactical eyepiece attached to her radio headset. She saw nothing but a load of rubble and some abandoned cars. "Looks clear," she said, turning to the others. "Let's move in, people. Quietly."

One by one, the Resistance picked up their weapons and crept over the ridge and down the slope. When they got to the bottom, they took refuge amongst the cluster of abandoned cars.

"When the HKs attacked," Kara asked Kyle, "did you see what happened to the others? Anything at all?"

"I heard Derek calling my name," replied Kyle, "but I didn't see anything. I was too busy trying to dodge the metals." He pointed at a large pile of rubble ten or so yards up ahead. "There... that's where I took cover. Waited for the machines to leave. When I came out five, maybe ten minutes later, Derek, Wisher, and Sayles were all gone. At first I thought they'd returned to Greyhound, but when I got back to the bunker, the guards told me Derek hadn't checked back in."

"What happened then?" asked Kara.

Kyle gave her a grim look. "You know what happened next..." he said, a bitter undercurrent in his tone, "A Triple-Eight came in and started shooting." His voice began to tremble. "I-I tried to protect the civilians, but everything happened just so fast... I-I didn't know what to..." Unable to continue, he just shook his head and stared down.

Kara placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Stay with me, kid," she said gently. "Ok?"

Kyle looked up and put on a brave face. "I'm good, Starbuck. Don't worry about me."

Kara patted his shoulder. "Right, now then..." She stood up and addressed the squad. "Let's spread out, people. Look for anything our missing squad could have left behind. Footprints, hidden messages, equipment. Anything that could help."

The four Resistance fighters began meticulously searching the surrounding area. They combed through piles of rubble and debris, looking for any hint or clue as to the fate of the missing squad. After twenty minutes, however, all they found were some plasma scorch marks left behind by the HKs that had attacked Kyle. By that time what little light they had had to begin with was nearly gone.

"We have to pull out, ma'am," Sumner told Kara candidly. "It's getting pretty dark. I don't think we're going to find anything."

"He's right," added Harris. "We're not gonna find shit out here. And if we don't get out of here soon, shit's gonna find _us_."

Kara sighed and lowered her head. As much as she wanted to argue with them, she knew they were right. There was nothing more they could do out here. They had to return to Greyhound and wait for the chopper to return. Wherever Derek, Sayles, and Wisher were, they'd have to fend for themselves for now.

"All right," she said with a sigh, "Let's get back to Greyhound. Harris, you take point."

Harris nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Kara slowly turned to Kyle who was staring off into space, as though lost in thought. "Come on, kid," she urged, tapping him on the shoulder. "Let's get going."

Kyle raised a hand. "Wait..." he said in a low voice. "Something's not right."

Kara gave him a confused look. "What? What's wrong, kid?"

"I'm not sure. You ever had déjà vu, Starbuck?"

"Yeah. _Way_ too many times. Why?"

"I don't know, but I-"

"HOLY FUCK! _GET DOWN_!"

Alerted by Harris' warning, Kara and Kyle dropped to the ground just in time to avoid losing their heads to a Skynet Bloodhound that had seemingly appeared out of thin air.

_"Contact! Contact!"_ bellowed Sumner. He and Harris both opened fire with their plasma rifles. None of their shots made contact with the Bloodhound, however. The spinning bladed disk flipped itself around and came swooping down upon Kara and Kyle again.

Kyle jumped to his feet, and with an angry yell, he swung his plasma rifle like a club at the incoming Bloodhound. Metal made contact with metal, producing a shower of sparks and smoke. The airborne killing device spiraled out of control and crashed into a concrete barrier. It bounced off and landed on the hood of an abandoned car. Sumner and Harris both rushed over and blasted the machine to pieces.

A thoroughly shocked Kara gaped at Kyle. "Frak me..." she murmured. "You all right, kid?"

Kyle was breathing hard. He looked a little stunned by what he had just done. "Yeah... Yeah, I'm good." He tossed his thoroughly busted-up plasma rifle aside. "How about you, Starbuck? You ok?"

"I'm fine," said Kara, getting back to her feet. "Nice swing there, kid."

Kyle grinned. "Derek always said I had one hell of a batting arm."

"Where did that thing come from anyway?" Sumner asked.

Kara shook her head. "I don't know. But we'd better get out of here before..."

She trailed off as the ground began to tremble ominously. A rumbling, mechanized growl reverberated across the battlefield. Moments later, a huge shape emerged from the darkness, pushing aside debris and abandoned cars. The small group of humans found themselves caught in the glare of a searchlight.

Information flashed across Kara's tactical eyepiece:

_WARNING: HOSTILE CONTACT DETECTED  
Classification: Skynet CENTAUR light patrol unit  
Status: In seek-and-destroy mode. __WEAPON SYSTEMS ACTIVE.  
Distance: 55.3 yards  
IMMEDIATE EVASION RECOMMENDED  
_

Kara swore. "_Oh shit!_ Fall back! Everyone!_ Fall back now!_"

Nobody needed to be told twice. Despite its classification as a "light" patrol machine, a Skynet Centaur could not be taken lightly. Though a mere third the size of an HK Tank and armed with only a single plasma cannon, it was easily capable of killing lone pockets of Resistance fighters.

The Tech Com squad took cover behind the cluster of derelict vehicles and laid low. The Centaur, however, had already obtained positive locks on them. Its simple-minded cybernetic brain commanded it to seek out and eliminate its prey.

Kara cursed as the Centaur rolled forward. _Looks like we're gonna have to make a stand here,_ she thought grimly.

She raised her plasma rifle and began firing through the shattered windows of a battered sports car she and Kyle had taken refuge behind. At the same time, Sumner and Harris opened fire from behind an overturned van. They scored multiple solid hits on the machine but failed to penetrate its armored hull. Kyle stood up and lobbed an HK Buster charge into the Centaur's path. Unfortunately, the machine detected the bomb and vaporized it with a single shot from its plasma turret. It then adjusted its aim and fired again - this time at the humans.

A beam of plasma sliced straight through the sports car Kara was hiding behind, spraying droplets of superheated metal onto the left shoulder pad of her protective vest. Kara yelped in alarm and hastily patted the sizzling armored pad with her gloved hands. To her relief, the molten metal cooled before it completely melted through the armor plating.

Kyle scrambled up to her. "What happened?" he asked, reaching for Kara's shoulder. "Are you hit, Starbuck? Are you hurt?"

Kara held up her hands. "I'm fine, kid. I'm fine," she assured him. "Really, I'm OK." They recoiled instinctively as another lance of plasma pierced their cover, missing them by inches. "For the moment, anyway," she added ruefully.

The Centaur intensified its attack. More plasma blasts impacted nearby, rocking the ground. Debris and bits of gravel rained down all around the besieged humans.

"Fucking metal!" snarled Kyle. He stood up with a pistol in hand and fired it uselessly at the machine. Kara grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. "Stay down!" she snapped. "For frak's sake, you aren't gonna do crap with that!"

Kyle opened his mouth to protest when Harris suddenly hollered out, "Heads up! New contact! Coming in from above!" Kara looked up and spotted an incoming aircraft. Data flowed across her eyepiece's HUD:

_ALERT: Inbound aircraft  
Classification: Unknown  
Status: Approaching on an attack vector  
WARNING: Contact in 39 seconds._

Kara groaned in dismay. _Oh hell..._ she thought. _Just what we needed. An HK. _

She started to raise her plasma rifle when new tactical information appeared on her HUD:

_ALERT: Resistance IFF transponder detected  
VERIFY IMMEDIATELY_

Kara's breath grew short. She lowered her weapon. "Hold your fire," she ordered her companions. Praying that she wasn't about to make a critical error, she pressed her microphone to her lips. "Tango Charlie Blue Seven to India Alpha. Acknowledge. Over. I repeat, Tango Charlie Blue Seven. India Alpha, please respond."

For three highly tense seconds, nothing but static came through the line.

Then-

_"Blue Seven acknowledged. This is Bad Wolf Zero-One-Niner. I hear you. That you down there, Starbuck?"_

Kara sighed with relief. "Roger, Zero-One-Niner. This is Starbuck. Glad to hear your voice, Sheba. We got a little situation on our hands."

"_I can see that,"_ Captain Emily "Sheba" Mclean replied through the radio, _"Hang tight, Starbuck. I'll take care of this little Michael Foxtrot."_

A Resistance Black Hawk helicopter descended from the darkened skies, its weapons already in action. A pair of mounted GAU-19 Gatling guns blazed away at the enemy, literally hosing the Centaur with torrents of heavy caliber rounds. Most of the bullets bounced off the machine's armor, but some struck soft spots along the hull, penetrating it. The Centaur screeched like an angry animal and swiveled its plasma cannon to confront its new enemy. It moved too slowly, though, and could not bring its weapon to bear in time.

"_Hold onto your teeth, folks!" _Sheba ordered over the radio. _"I'm going loud!"_

The Black Hawk launched two air-to-surface missiles at the Centaur. The first missile slammed into the base of its turret, popping it off like a cork. The second missile pierced its hull and detonated inside the mechanical beast's belly. The explosion ruptured several hydrogen fuel cells and set off a series of secondary internal explosions. Spare ammunition and fuel added to the conflagration, consuming the Centaur from within. The machine died in a fiery blaze, leaving only a smoldering, charred hulk of twisted metal and melted treads behind.

Sheba whooped triumphantly. "_Ha ha! Scratch one metal, baby!"_

Kara and the others jumped to their feet and let loose a victorious cheer. Harris slapped Sumner on the shoulder. "Now, _that's_ what I'm talkin' about!"

"Nice shooting, Sheba," Kara complimented.

"_Just doin' my job, Starbuck."_

"A hell of a job at that. Speaking of which, you mind telling me what you're doing out here?"

"_Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing,"_ replied Sheba, sounding somewhat amused_. "I was on patrol when I received a message from General Perry. Something about an unauthorized rescue mission going on__ near Greyhound Bunker__. He didn't sound too happy. You, uh, wouldn't happen to know anything about this, would you, Starbuck?"_

"I have _no_ clue, Sheba," Kara said, smirking. "Anyway, we could really use a lift back to Serrano Point, if you don't mind."

"_No problem, Starbuck. I'm bringing her down now. Standby. Bad Wolf Zero-One-Niner coming in for a landing."_

The transmission ended and the Black Hawk began its descent.

Kara turned to Kyle, the only one who didn't look happy to be going home. "I'm sorry we didn't find your brother," she told him gently.

Kyle just shook his head. "Don't be," he said bitterly, "We both knew this was going to be a long shot."

"We'll try again," Kara said encouragingly. She placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's not over, kid. Trust me."

Kyle nodded dully, but said nothing else.

* * *

**Two hours later...  
****Serrano Point Power Plant, ****San Luis Sector  
**

"Major Thrace, what you did back there was reckless, ill-thought out, and just plain stupid. You put the lives of not only yourself but others in serious jeopardy!" thundered a furious General Justin Perry. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Kara stood her ground. "Nothing that I didn't already say over the radio when I was at Greyhound, sir," she replied. "If you recall, I told you there was a possibility that Lieutenant Reese and the rest of his squad was still alive. I also told you that I was planning to have his brother take me to the last place he saw them."

"Yes, I remember," said Perry curtly. "I also remember telling you _no_ and to return to Serrano Point with the other survivors."

"At the risk of sounding disrespectful, sir, I wasn't under any obligation to follow your orders at the time."

Perry folded his arms across his chest and glowered at her. "Is that so?"

"Yes, sir. It is so," said Kara astutely. "I'm sure you're already aware of this, but the Los Angeles Sector doesn't fall under your jurisdiction. It falls under General Koontz's. Furthermore, technically speaking, you're not actually my commanding officer. John Connor is. Also the people who have gone missing are my responsibility, and I have the right - if not the duty - to exploit any opportunity to recover them, so long as it doesn't put civilian lives in danger, or jeopardize any long term operations. In fact, since Lieutenant Reese and his squad were involved in a strategic operation when they disappeared, I'd be jeopardizing the operation if I _didn't_ try to find them."

She paused a moment. "Am I right, sir?"

For a moment, Perry looked like he wanted nothing more than to rip her head off for the load of smart talk she'd just delivered. Then he sighed and nodded begrudgingly. "Unfortunately, yes," he muttered. "You are correct. Nicely played, Major."

Kara smiled. "Thank you, General."

He flashed her a warning. "Don't push your luck like that all the time."

"I'll take that under advisement, sir." She then added in a more subdued tone, "And sir... Thank you for sending Sheba to watch my back. I appreciate it. I really do."

Perry gave her a slight smile. "We may not see eye-to-eye all the time, Thrace, but that's no reason not to lend a fellow soldier a hand."

Kara nodded. "Yes, sir," she said. "If that's all, General, I'd like to get back to my barracks. I need some rest. It's been one hell of a day..."

"Hold on a minute, Major," said Perry. "There's one more thing we need to discuss. I've just received new orders."

Kara looked up, surprised. "New orders? From Connor?"

"Yes... And I don't think you're going to like them."

She didn't.

* * *

**Fifteen minutes later...**  
**Troop Barracks **

"All operations in the LA Sector have been _suspended_?" Kyle Reese exclaimed in disbelief. "On Connor's orders?"

Kara nodded. "Yup..." she said grimly. "As of right now, we're to hold here and wait for new orders."

"Why? What's going on?" demanded a furious Kyle.

"I don't know."

Kyle gave her an angry look. "You mean you don't know, or you won't tell me?" he asked, accusation evident in his voice.

Kara glared back at him. "I mean,_ I don't know_," she repeated, louder this time. "If I did, I would have told you." She lowered her voice. "Look, kid, I'll try to get through to Connor. Figure out just what the hell is going on."

"Derek can't wait for us to go through channels or any of that shit!" Kyle argued angrily, slamming his foot down on the floor. "He's out there somewhere! He needs help _now_!"

Kara rolled her eyes. "And just what do you suggest we do, huh? _Walk_ to the LA sector? Steal a helicopter and mount a half-assed SAR?"

This sarcastic, rhetorical question drew a few moments of silence from Kyle. Then a small smile appeared on his face. "You know, that last idea sounds like fun. Crazy, but fun."

Kara grinned. "Yeah, and if it were just me who'd pay for it, I'd probably go ahead." Her smile disappeared. "But I'm not gonna put you or anyone else's life at risk... Listen, I know this must be difficult for you, but-"

Kyle shook his head. "Forget it. You're right, Starbuck. There's nothing we can do now." Slumping his shoulders in defeat, he sat down on his bunk. He muttered, "I guess Connor has his reasons." After a beat, he looked up at Kara. "Starbuck... you don't think the machines _let_ me get away the other night?

"What are you talking about?" asked Kara.

"The Triple-Eight that hit the bunker... it came in just _minutes_ after I returned." Kyle shuddered. "Do-do you think it might have _followed_ me?"

Kara shrugged. "I don't know. There have got to be at least a dozen different ways Skynet could have found the bunker."

"It doesn't make sense, though," said Kyle, shaking his head. "Those HKs had me right in their sights. They could have shot me dead easily. Maybe when I got separated from the others, they alerted the Triple-Eight and-"

Kara cut him off. "Kid, listen to me," she said sharply. "It is _not_ your fault what happened to your brother. You didn't abandon him or the others. You did what you had to do to get out of there alive."

Kyle looked down at his feet. "Yeah, that's some shit to be proud of," he muttered sourly.

"You've got a lot to be proud of, Kyle," said Kara, attempting to reach out to him. "I mean, you survived six years at Century. Most people didn't even survive six _days_. And - and you weren't just surviving in that hellhole. For four years, you were passing information to Connor from the inside. Working to bring that place down."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, Starbuck. You _know_ it wasn't just me. Connor had at least a dozen other people inside the camp getting things ready for his return."

"Yeah, but none of them had to carry Connor out of there on their backs while under fire from ten guard towers."

"It was just _one_ guard tower, Starbuck. And it wasn't actually Connor I rescued. It was just a guy _pretending_ to be Connor. The _real_ Connor was planting a bomb inside that guard tower."

"Look," said Kara, trying to stay patient, "the point is that you've done things a lot of people could never do. I mean, hell, there's no way I'd have volunteered to spend an extra four years in a Skynet prison camp. If I'd been in your shoes, I'd have gone with Connor the first time he broke out of that hellhole."

Again Kyle shook his head. "You want to know why I ended up in that hellhole in the first place, Starbuck?" he said bitterly. "One night, Derek and I are in the tunnels looking for food, when we come upon a pack of wild dogs. I panic and run away. Right into the hands of a machine patrol." He squeezed his eyes shut and hung his head in shame. "I did it again last night. I ran. Only this time it wasn't me who the machines got. It's Derek... and Billy and Sayles... everyone at Greyhound... They were counting on me... and I failed them all."

Kara stared at him. She'd always been fond of Kyle Reese. He was young but experienced. Eager and enthusiastic but not naive. Tough but with a good heart. Seeing him like this, despondent and in despair, was something that couldn't be allowed to stand.

"Ok... you know what?" said Kara. "I'm sorry it's had come to this but you leave me no choice." She walked up to Kyle, grabbed him by the front of his shirt and violently jerked off the bunk and onto his feet.

"Ow! Hey!" protested Kyle. "What the hell, Starb-"

"Shut up and listen for a moment," said Kara, getting right into Kyle's face. "I know that life is pretty sucky for you right now. But do you think that wallowing in self-pity is gonna help yourself, or Derek, or anyone? Do you think your brother would want to see you like this? Frak, no!"

She shoved Kyle backwards onto his bunk. "Get with the program, Reese!" she barked. "There's a _war_ going on! You're a soldier, for frak's sake! Soldiers _fight_. They don't quit. Not _ever_. You are _no_ exception. So, stop your moping, pull yourself together, and get your head back in the game _right - this - instant_! That's an _order_! _Do you understand me, soldier?"_

For a moment, Kyle just stared up at Kara in shock, unable to do anything but blink. Then he got to his feet, straightened his shoulders, and answered in a firm, confident voice, _"Ma'am, yes, ma'am!"_

Satisfied, Kara nodded. "Good. I'm glad that's out of the way. Now, if you don't mind, I'm gonna get myself out of this crap."

She moved to her own bunk and began divesting herself of her armor and gear. Tactical headset, SPIE harness, armored vest, elbow pads, knee pads, and fingerless gloves all came off and were piled on top of her bunk. She also removed her pistol holster from her right leg and added it to the pile, along with her gas mask, grenades, spare ammunition, and utility pouches. She took a moment to inspect the damage to her armor and made a mental note to get it fixed when she had time. She then gathered everything up and stowed it all underneath her bunk (with the exception of her side arm which she placed underneath her pillow).

Having been in Tech Com for over a year now, she'd learned to appreciate the opportunity to get out of your gear at a day's end. She could remember plenty of times these past twelve months in which she'd had to sleep in some tunnel or trench or hole in the ground with fifty-plus pounds of combat gear strapped to her body. Tech Com battlefield gear was designed for relative comfort and mobility in combat situations, but when you had to _live _in it, it quickly became uncomfortable. That and it started to smell.

Free of her armor and equipment at last, Kara proceeded to pull off her jacket and boots and tossed them onto a chair. Now left in just a brown T-shirt, a pair of cameo pants, her Bowie knife in its sheath strapped to her left leg, and her socks, Kara sat down on her bunk, grabbed a towel off the chair, and wiped the grime and sweat off her face. She then removed the tie from her hair, allowing her hair to flow freely down her shoulders. Feeling more human than she'd felt all day, Kara took a deep breath and sighed out loud.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Kyle watching her from his own bunk, an odd smile on his face.

"What are you smiling at, kid?" Kara asked suspiciously.

"Ah, nothing, Starbuck," said Kyle, still smiling. "It's just always... _refreshing_ to see a beautiful woman like you out of her armor and gear."

Kara raised an eyebrow and smirked. "I wouldn't let Sarah hear you say that," she teased.

Kyle's smile dropped. "Actually... I, uh, I don't have Sarah anymore... During the fight with the Triple-Eight at Greyhound, I, uh, accidentally dropped my lucky charm in a fire. Burned up right in front of me." He sighed heavily and looked down. "Figures this day's been pretty shitty."

"Sorry to hear that, kid," said Kara earnestly. "I know how attached you were to that photo. What it meant to you."

Kyle looked up. "Did I ever tell you how I got that photo, Starbuck? How Connor gave it to me the day before he escaped from Century? How he told me that I had to be strong, like his mother? Did I ever tell you that?"

"Yeah, you've told me," said Kara, rather deadpanned. "Too many times, in fact. No offense or anything." She paused, then stood up and walked over to Kyle's bunk. "You are strong, Kyle," she said gently. "One of the strongest people I've ever known. And I know that right now, you're afraid. Afraid and angry... and in pain."

She knelt down, placed her hands on top of Kyle's and squeezed them together firmly. She looked him in the eyes and said, "And I also know that you're strong enough to endure it. The anger, the fear, the pain. I know you can survive. So, I'm asking you as a fellow soldier and a friend, stay strong. Stay strong for me... and for your brother. Can you do that?"

Kyle looked her in the eyes and nodded his head. "Yes..." he said quietly but firmly. "Yes, I can. For you. For Derek... For Connor... and Billy... and Sayles. Hell, for _everyone_ I suppose."

Kara smiled. "Good." She stood back up and folded her arms across her chest. "Don't expect me to be all warm and fuzzy like that next time," she warned. "Remember I'm your commander, not your _mother_."

Kyle smirked. "You're definitely not my mother, Starbuck," he said. "But I guess you could be a sister. My _big_, _scary_ sister."

Kara smirked back. "Well, if I'm your big sister, then you're in for _a lot_ of trouble, kid."

They shared a laugh at this.

Kyle then said, "You know, Connor once talked to me about pain. He said that pain can be controlled... you just disconnect it."

"Disconnect it, huh?" mused Kara. "Is it really _that_ simple?"

"Sometimes it is," said Kyle, shrugging his shoulders. "Other times, it's impossible. I guess that's what separates us from the machines. The pain and the loss."

Kara placed a hand on Kyle's shoulder. "You know what _else_ that separates us from them? We don't leave people behind. Not ever." She looked him in the eyes. "I can't promise that we'll find your brother alive and well, or that we'll even find him at all. But I can promise you that whatever happens we won't give up. I _promise_."

Kyle nodded. "I believe you, Starbuck. I believe you."

Kara smiled warmly. "I know you do. Now get some rest, kid. You're gonna need it."

"Ok." Kyle lay down on his bunk. "Good night, Starbuck," he said.

"Night, kid," said Kara. "I'll be here if you need me."

Kara switched off the barracks' lights, then returned to her bunk, lay down, and waited until Kyle was asleep. Then she got up, pulled her pistol out from underneath her pillow and sat down in her chair. She folded her legs and leaned back, pistol in one hand, a beer can in the other. She didn't know why, but right now, she felt more protective of Kyle Reese than she'd felt for anyone else her entire life.

She popped the beer can open and took a sip. She sighed. It was gonna be a long night. She might as well get comfortable.

* * *

**Present day  
Basestar  
**

"Just _how_ close were you and Kyle?" Sarah Connor asked Kara suspiciously.

Kara rolled her eyes. "If you're asking if we ever slept together, then let me just say right here, right now - _no_. For one thing, Kyle was way too young for me. And secondly, after Derek and I..." She trailed off. "Well, never mind _that_. The point is - no. We never frakked, nor did we ever make plans to do so."

"Good," said Sarah matter-of-factly, "because otherwise I'd have to kill you." She smirked. "Nothing personal, Starbuck. You understand."

Kara smirked back. "Of course." She exchanged a wink with Maggie, and then continued, "Anyway, the next day we received new orders. There was some kind of secret Skynet facility located in Topanga Canyon, right on the edge of the Los Angeles Sector. Connor was planning a full scale assault on it. And I mean _full scale_. Over four hundred troops, heavy weapons, choppers, even some fighter jets on loan from the US government-in-exile. We didn't know what it was we were after, but we knew it was big.

"We just didn't know _how_ big it was..."

* * *

**January 15, 2027**

The most important battle of the war began when John Connor sent a covert signal to the _USS Jimmy Carter, _positioned just off the coast of California. On his command, the submarine surfaced and launched a specially-modified Tomahawk cruise missile. Its destination: A Skynet base in Topanga Canyon. The target: The primary Command-In-Control node responsible for the surface defense systems.

The missile quickly cleared the coastline and headed inland, following the flight path that had been pre-programmed into its navigation system. Fitted with reverse-engineered Skynet stealth technology, the missile went undetected and unnoticed by any enemy radar or satellite systems. Ten minutes after being deployed, the missile entered visual range of Skynet's fortified complex at Topanga Canyon. It locked onto the CIC node and began the final part of its journey.

Eight seconds before impact, Skynet finally became aware of the imminent danger. It reached out through the CIC node and took command of the surface defense grid. In the span of a microsecond, a dozen automated plasma turrets woke up and opened fire upon the missile. The response had come too late, though. The missile smashed into its target and detonated on impact. The explosion blew the CIC node into a million tiny metal fragments and severed the defense grid's link to Skynet.

Moments later, a squadron of six A-10 Thunderbolt II fighter jets emerged from the darkened skies and swooped down upon the facility. Without Skynet to direct them, the automated defense turrets reverted to their basic protocols and fired wildly at the airborne attackers. One Thunderbolt had its wing sheered off by plasma fire and went spiraling out of control. It and its occupant plowed into the ground at over a hundred miles an hour and vanished in a fiery blaze.

The remaining five Thunderbolts successfully evaded the enemy fire. Flying in tight formation, they soared across the base and proceeded to unleash destruction on the enemy below. Scores of patrolling T-800 endoskeletons were blown to smithereens as nearly 200 tons of high yield explosives fell upon them like a sledgehammer. Fuel tankers, supply transports, and construction machines were engulfed in torrents of fire and turned to molten slag. The defensive turrets and observation towers shattered and crumbled into ruin. Anything not destroyed outright by the explosions was demolished by the shockwaves that followed. In under a minute, the Thunderbolts had reduced most of the surface defenses to ash and rubble.

Amidst this spree of destruction, a swarm of helicopters entered the combat zone. Using machine guns and rockets, the choppers swiftly finished off the few surviving machines on the ground. The Thunderbolts pulled up and departed for the nearest friendly outpost, leaving the choppers to begin landing troops. The easy part was over.

Now the real fight began.

* * *

**Los Angeles Sector Outskirts  
Skynet facility, Topanga Canyon  
Phase 2 of Resistance assault in progress...  
**

"I'm bringing us down next to what's left of that observation tower in the center!" Sheba called out from the cockpit of Bad Wolf-019. "Touchdown in one minute!"

"Thanks, Sheba. All right, people, lock and load your weapons! Let's get ready to roll!" Major Kara Thrace shouted out over the roar of the chopper's engines.

The troops inside responded with a chorus of "Yes, ma'am", followed by a symphony of clicks, snaps, and high pitched drones as they readied their weapons.

Kara slid a fresh power cell into her own plasma rifle and checked the readings. She then turned to Kyle Reese who was sitting next to her.

"You ok, kid?" she asked quietly.

Kyle gave her a nod. "I'm good, Starbuck," he replied. He slapped a magazine into his high powered sniper rifle. He winked at her. "Don't worry about me."

Kara eyed the rifle and smiled. "I'll never forget the day we first met, kid. The day you used that gun to bring down an HK."

"Yeah, and I would never have been able to do that if it hadn't been chasing _you_," said a grinning Kyle. He looked out the window of the chopper. "What do you suppose is down there?" he asked. "A secret lab? A super weapon?"

"I have no idea, kid," said Kara. "But whatever it is, we're gonna take it, smash it to tiny bits, and shove the pieces up Skynet's ass where they belong."

Kyle chuckled. "I knew there was a reason why I always liked you, Starbuck."

Kara smiled again and winked at him.

"Thirty seconds, people!" Sheba hollered from the cockpit. "Get ready!"

Kara and Kyle clutched their weapons tightly as their chopper continued its descent. Soon they felt the Black Hawk land on solid ground. The sides doors opened up. "Everyone out! _Go! Go! Go!_" barked Kara.

The troops all piled out through the doors and onto the battlefield. Kara instructed Sheba to keep an eye out for enemy reinforcements, then joined them. Outside in the open, the Tech Com troops witnessed firsthand the devastation wrought by the aerial bombardment. Fires burned everywhere. Craters where bombs had landed dotted the surface. Structures lay broken and in ruin. Dozens of machines were strewn across the battlefield, their bodies shattered beyond repair.

Private Harris chuckled, "Oh man, I _love_ the smell of burning metal in the morning."

"Flyboys sure did a number on the tin cans," another soldier remarked gleefully.

"Bastards never stood a chance," said another. "Almost feel sorry for 'em."

"Cut the chatter, folks. We got a job to do," Kara said sharply. "Spread out and secure this LZ. On the double! Move!"

As her troops moved to carry out her orders, Kara looked around. There were at least fifty troops already on the ground. Helicopters were landing additional Tech Com troops or deploying them via insertion cables. Other choppers were offloading crates of supplies and weapons.

Kara was starting to wonder who exactly was supposed to be in charge here when a Black Hawk landed right next her. General John Connor step out of the chopper, fully geared up and prepared for battle.

She groaned internally.

_Oh no_... _I _hate_ it when he does this._

Kara greeted the general with a salute, followed by a protest. "Sir, you do realize that you make my job a hell of a lot more difficult when you show up like this unannounced?"

Connor just smirked. "Well, Major, I can't let my Spec Ops Commander have all the fun, now can I?" He then walked past Kara, and approached Kyle, who snapped to attention upon seeing him. "We're lucky to have you with us, Master Sergeant," he said. "You good to go, soldier?"

Kyle nodded. "Sir, yes, sir."

"Very good." Connor lowered his voice. "We're doing everything we can to find your brother, Reese. I can't make any promises, but we will try our best to find him and the others."

Kyle nodded again. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

"Good man." Connor patted Kyle on the shoulder, then turned back around. "All right then," he said, clapping his hands together, "Let's get down to business." He tapped his radio headset. "All troops, this is General Connor. Rally to my position at the center of the combat zone immediately."

Once the eighty-something Tech Com soldiers had gathered around Connor, the general began explaining the details of the mission:

"As you know, ladies and gentlemen, somewhere nearby is a secret enemy facility. Intel suggests there are at least a hundred and fifty machines inside. Probably more. Fortunately, we'll soon have them outnumbered three-to-one. We've got two companies of infantry from Fort Leopard on the way, along with some _special_ weapons. They'll be here in about forty minutes. Until they get here, though, we need to defend this LZ from any counterattacks by the facility's standing force."

Sergeant Major Sumner raised a hand. "Excuse me, sir, but I thought _this_ was the facility."

Connor shook his head. "Nah, this is just the front lawn. See that over there?" He pointed at a spectacular mountain cliff that lay just beyond the anti-vehicle concrete barrier surrounding the base. "The facility is inside those rocks. Skynet's toys are going to be pouring out of there any moment. If they establish a foothold on the surface, it's gonna make life difficult for our reinforcements."

Kara used her tactical eyepiece to zoom in on the cliff wall. Her scans registered nothing, however. "Sir," she said, confused, "I don't see any sort of entrance."

"Not yet, you don't," said Connor. "Master Sergeant Reese?"

Kyle looked up. "Sir?"

"Your sniper rifle, please."

Kyle unslung his sniper rifle from his back and handed it to Connor who, after running a quick inspection of the weapon, turned towards the cliff. The crowd moved out of the way as he raised Kyle's sniper rifle to his shoulder. Connor peered through the scope, took aim, and fired. The rifle went off with an ear-splitting crack.

A semi-circular section of the cliff suddenly flickered and shimmered like a light bulb. Kara blinked several times, unsure of what she had just seen.

Connor lowered the rifle. "Holographic shielding," he explained, "Sophisticated enough to fool the naked eye, as well as most electronic gadgets. _That's_ the front door to the facility. The _only_ door in fact. We need to cordon it off from the LZ. Keep the metals from staging a full scale counterattack."

He handed the sniper rifle back to Kyle. "I need someone to take a platoon and line up that barrier facing the cliff. When the machines start popping out of there, we'll be waiting for them. Our air elements will defend against any hostile patrols in this area. Sniper teams and mortars will provide long range support, but the platoon is still going to be pressed hard. Whoever's in charge down there is going to have to be stubborn." He clapped his hands and looked around. "Do I have any volunteers?"

Because Tech Com was a small, mobile group that went wherever John Connor told them to go, there were no fixed squads or teams. Combat units were formed and structured as needed depending on the situation. The men and women who made up these on-the-spot units were drawn from A) whoever was available and B) who possessed the necessary skills, knowledge, and personal experience. As such, rank often took a backseat to ability on the battlefield. A sergeant who knew his way around a certain town could hold tactical command over a lieutenant who had never set foot in the area before. This allowed for a certain amount of flexibility when planning and executing an operation, in that anyone could volunteer (or _be_ volunteered) to lead a group of troops.

Of course, in order for this system to work, one had to take the initiative.

Kara stepped forward and raised her hand. "Sir," she said astutely.

Connor nodded in approval. "I knew I could count on you, Starbuck."

* * *

Less than ten minutes later, Kara and a platoon of fifty-three other selected Tech Com troops were lining up the section of the anti-vehicle concrete barrier that faced the concealed entrance to the Skynet facility. Her second-in-command, Captain Drake briefed her on the platoon's status.

"We've set up two M2 50 caliber machine guns there and there," Drake said, pointing to each position along the barrier. "Plus, four RPGs with nine shots each. I suggest we keep 'em spread out in case anything goes off."

Kara nodded. "How are the troops fixed for ammunition?"

"Plenty of rounds for the 50 calibers," answered Drake. "And everyone's carrying at least half a dozen spare power cells for their rifles. That's roughly two hundred shots per person."

"Good, good." Kara smiled. "Glad you made it to the party, Drake."

Drake, a former member of Delta Force and a battle-hardened warrior, smirked. "Yeah, well... things were getting pretty boring in Gulf District. And when Connor asked for all available units to come down here, it sounded like he really meant it. So, me and the boys hopped the first chopper outta there." He folded his arms across his chest. "So, anyway, Starbuck, has Connor told you anything about what we're after?"

"Not a peep," said Kara, shrugging her shoulders. Her eyes drifted toward the cliff wall her troops were training their guns upon. She knew now that at least part of it was some kind of virtual projection. But how had Connor known about it before anyone else? More to the point, how had he come to learn about this place in just one day after weeks of fruitless searching in the LA Sector?

_Well_, she thought to herself, _the point is that this thing... whatever it is... is here. And so are we._

Just then, a man's voice came over her radio earpiece:_ "Major, this is Staff Sergeant Moffat with artillery support unit Heavy Charlie. We're in position with six long range plasma mortars at our disposal. Our supply of shells is somewhat limited, but we'll give you as much support as we can."_

"Copy that, Staff Sergeant," replied Kara. "We'll call you when we need you. Out."

A second call soon followed: _"Bad Wolf Zero-One-Niner to Starbuck. Just wanted to let you know, I've got orders to hang back here in case you guys need a quick exit, if you know what I mean."_

"Roger, Sheba. Just hope we won't be needing that quick exit any time soon."

"_Me too. Good luck, Starbuck. Sheba out."_ The transmission ended.

Kara couldn't help but smirk to herself darkly. Bad Wolf-019 was capable of carrying a maximum of twelve people. Which meant if things went to hell and they really _did_ need a quick exit, no more than twelve of them were expected to be alive. Whatever this was about, Connor was going at it with an all-or-nothing mindset.

She looked at the troops lined up along the concrete barrier. She knew a lot of these people. At least half of them were from her Spec Ops division. She would die any one of them. And any one of them would die for her.

_Not just for you,_ she told herself. _For Connor. For the Resistance. For what they believe in. Just like you would._

It comforted her to know that Kyle Reese was with one of the sniper teams Connor had placed behind them. Not only was the kid back in the game, but he was also back _there_ instead of up _here_ where things were bound to get pretty messy.

Connor's voice came over her radio - along with everyone else's. _"Attention all troops, this is General Connor. You know the mission. You know what we have to do. The enemy is going to hit us hard, but we will hit them just as hard. Hold your ground and fight. Good luck, people. Connor out."_

Drake huffed. "Not a very inspiring speech."

"Don't worry," said Kara, winking at him. "I've got my own." She cleared her throat and addressed the platoon. "All right, platoon!" she announced. "The machines are going to be walking out into the open any second now. And when they do, they'll be walking right into their worst nightmare: The _biggest_, _baddest_, _meanest_ bunch of _gods damn, ass-kicking human frakkin' beings_ they've ever screwed with!"

The troops roared and cheered and applauded. "Damn straight!" Private Harris shouted. "We're with you, ma'am!" Sergeant Major Sumner called out. Others cried out, "Yeah, Starbuck!" and _"Oo-rah!"_

Drake winked at Kara. "Nicely done," he remarked.

Kara winked back. "Thanks."

"Look!" someone suddenly shouted.

The face of the cliff was shimmering and rippling just like it had when Connor shot at it. Kara and Drake glanced at each other, both communicating the exact same thing.

"All right, boys and girls," Kara shouted out loud, "let's rip these bastards up! _Semper fi!_"

"_Semper fi!" _the platoon roared as one.

Swelling with pride, Kara leveled her plasma rifle at the shimmering wall and steeled herself for combat.

She didn't have to wait long. Like a wraith ghosting through a wall, a T-800 endoskeleton walked right out of the cliff wall and into full view. Kara took aim through the custom scope strapped to her plasma rifle, centered the crosshairs over the T-800's ugly head, and pulled the trigger. Her plasma rifle flared and an energy bolt burst from its muzzle. It speared the endoskeleton straight through the head, vaporizing its CPU instantly. The automaton fell to its knees and crumpled lifelessly on its side._ That's one_, Kara thought.

A second endoskeleton emerged moments later. Captain Drake fired this time, scoring a direct hit to the T-800's chest. The plasma bolt pierced its armor and damaged the nuclear battery, forcing it to shut down. Stripped of its power source, the machine toppled forward and hit the ground with a dull _thud_. The red glow in its eyes faded as it died.

All too soon, another T-800 materialized out of the cliff wall. Kara fired again. Her aim was slightly off, however, and her shot merely grazed the side of its head. The machine raised its own weapon to return fire when a series of muffled _cracks _rang out in the distance. Armor-piercing sniper rounds struck the endoskeleton in the face, shattering one of its red eyes and dislodging the lower mandible from its skull. Badly damaged, the machine dropped its weapon and staggered backwards, stumbling and flailing like a drunk. A burst of heavy machine gunfire severed its head from its torso, putting the toaster out of its misery.

_That's three,_ Kara thought,_ So far so good._

Six more T-800s endoskeletons marched through the holo-wall and into the open. Nearly twenty Resistance fighters simultaneously opened fire, reducing the two machines in front to scrap. The remaining four T-800s stepped over their fallen comrades, raised their weapons, and returned fire. Kara winced reflexively as a plasma bolt missed her head by inches. She was about to return fire when a sharp cry of agony rang out somewhere down the line. Corporal Terrence Altman fell to the ground, smoke billowing from a fist-sized hole in his chest. The Tech Com soldier who'd been standing next to him, Private Sara Harding, turned her head to look at Altman's body. She opened her mouth to say something when a plasma bolt caught her just above the left ear. Harding didn't even have time to scream before the bolt superheated her brain and her skull cracked like a hard boiled egg.

Kara grimaced. The reality of war had reared its ugly head.

Knowing that things weren't about to get any less ugly, she forced her mind back into the fight. More T-800s were pouring out of the cliff to join the others. The Resistance greeted them with a barrage of rocket propelled grenades. The explosives plowed into the incoming horde, sending a dozen metal arms, legs, torsos, and heads flying in every direction. The surviving machines swiftly regrouped and returned fire. Screams rent the air as Resistance troops were cut down with lethal efficiency.

Gritting her teeth, Kara fired her weapon again and again, dropping four more machines before her weapon finally clicked dry. She ducked behind the concrete barrier to reload and reevaluate things.

A few moments later, Captain Drake took refuge behind the barrier as well. "Starbuck," he said, as plasma bolts whizzed over their heads, "I think it's time to call for some of that heavy artillery."

Kara nodded. "I was thinking the same thing too." She tapped her radio headset. "Heavy Charlie, this is Starbuck. Requesting fire. Over."

The response came promptly with a buzz: _"Roger that, ma'am. Send coordinates. Over."_

"Grid Zero-One-Five Whiskey Tango."

_"Coordinates received. Standby. Heavy Charlie going loud!"_

Kara slapped Drake on the shoulder. "We got artillery on the way!" she barked. "Get everyone down!"

The captain swiftly relayed her order. "Artillery incoming!" he bellowed. "Everyone down! Now, now, now!"

The entire platoon took cover behind the barrier. Moments later, half a dozen streaks of blue-white light soared overhead, before arcing sharply downward to come hurtling down upon the endoskeletons. The plasma shells detonated upon impact in a blinding white flash with the intensity of a sun going nova. The ground beneath the troops' feet trembled. Even from behind the reinforced barrier, Kara could feel the blazing heat on her skin. Her eardrums throbbed. Her hair stood up as air rushed in to fill in the vacuum left by the fireball.

After what seemed like an eternity, everything settled down. Captain Drake was the first to stand back up. He peered over the barrier and swept the battleground with his tactical eyepiece.

"Clear!" he announced.

The troops jumped to their feet and gave a mighty cheer of triumph.

Quite satisfied with the results, Kara grinned. "Thanks, Heavy Charlie. Much appreciated."

_"Anytime, ma'am."_

"Heads up!" shouted Private Harris. "More coming in!"

Kara looked up. Through the smoke and dust, she saw a new wave of machines trotting out of the cliff's entrance. Sighing to herself, she loaded a fresh power cell into her weapon.

_This is gonna be a long day_...

Wave after wave of machines met with volley after volley of plasma bolts, armor piercing bullets, and rocket propelled grenades. T-800 endoskeletons crumpled to the ground in droves, their bodies shattered and riddled with holes. Survivors were either picked off by Resistance sharpshooters, or eviscerated by 50 caliber machine gun fire. Whenever things got too cluttered, mortar fire would be called in to wipe the whole place clean. The battleground was soon littered with the shattered remains of Skynet's toys. Yet the tide of machines seemed unending and the casualties kept mounting. The air stank of burning metal and cooked flesh.

As the battle progressed, it became all-too apparent which side was gaining the upper hand. Although the Tech Com troops were using the same weapons as the machines, the modifications they'd been forced to make to their captured Skynet M-75 plasma rifles actually reduced the weapons' effectiveness. And even if their weaponry had been equal, the machines still had them outmatched in all other aspects. Any T-800 with an active power source and a fully intact CPU could still fight. Kara saw endoskeletons fighting on with fist-sized holes in their chests, sometimes even with arms and legs missing. The machines were incapable of feeling pain, fatigue, or fear. More importantly, they were incapable of retreat. The human soldiers, on the other hand, were fragile and could only endure so much - physically and mentally.

After just over twenty minutes of nonstop fighting, Kara began feeling the pressure. She estimated they'd killed at least fifty machines so far, but if Connor was right (and he probably was, knowing him), there could be a hundred more down there. She wasn't sure how long they could keep this up. Her strength was starting to wane. Her muscles were swollen, her throat was dry, and it felt like she'd used up all her sweat. Her troops were probably feeling the same way, if not worse.

During a lull in the battle, she received some particularly unwelcome news from Sergeant Moffat over at Heavy Charlie.

_ "We're down to our last salvo of plasma shells here, ma'am," _ the sergeant informed her over the radio. "_We won't be getting any more until our reinforcements arrive."_

Kara cursed under her breath. This wasn't good. "Understood," she said, "I'll let you know when I need those last rounds. Thrace out." With an exhausted sigh, she turned to Drake. "Well, Captain, how bad is it?"

Her second-in-command gave her the grim update. "Three more men down. Another four wounded. One of the M2s is out of action, and we've got a total of four RPG rounds left."

Kara scowled. "Lovely. Just lovely..." She tapped her radio headset. "Connor, this is Thrace. Things are getting pretty ugly down here, sir. Nearly half the platoon is gone and we're running low on heavy weapons. I don't know how much longer we can keep this up."

"_Understood, Major. __Our reinforcements and special weapons are still five minutes away. __You need to hold out a little while longer."_

"Roger that, sir. Whatever these special weapons are, they'd better be worth this sh- "

"Contacts! New contacts!"

Alerted by Sergeant Major Sumner's frantic warning, Kara looked up over the barrier. The holo-wall in the cliff was shimmering again.

Warm blood rushed through her body, reinvigorating her. She sprang back into position and took aim with her plasma rifle.

"Look alive, people!" she barked. "They're coming again!"

The remaining troops locked weapons on the holo-wall and braced themselves.

Seconds later, six endoskeletons stepped out onto the battlefield. Much to Kara's dismay, her tactical eyepiece identified the machines as Triple-Eight endoskeletons. Worse, they were all carrying heavy plasma guns (more like small cannons actually).

Drake took action immediately. "Aim for the chips!" he yelled. "Go for the chips! Put those bastards down!" He fired his plasma rifle and scored a direct hit to the CPU port of one Triple-Eight. It collapsed to the ground, half its head gone. Sniper fire from behind cut down another Triple-Eight in a similar fashion.

In response, the remaining four Triple-Eights did something rather... odd. They dropped their weapons and proceeded to detach their own heads from their bodies. The skulls were then casually tossed over their shoulders and disappeared behind the holographic wall.

Kara blinked. _What the-?_ Then she understood. _Oh, COME ON. Now that's frakking cheating!_

The now headless Triple-Eights picked their weapons back up and opened fire, killing four Tech Com troops in the first volley. Retaliatory plasma, machine gun, and sniper fire peppered the machines' bodies, but without their heads - and thus their CPUs exposed, they were much less vulnerable. A further exchange of fire succeeded in bringing down one of the Triple-Eights, but at the cost of three more human soldiers.

Kara realized they were losing too many people. Something needed to be done now.

"Webber, Baxter, Miguel, blast those bastards!" she barked.

The three men whose names had been called stood up and fired an RPG at each of the three remaining Triple-Eight endos. All three hit their marks. The rocket-propelled explosives failed to penetrate their armor, but succeeded in knocking all three enemy machines to the ground.

_"Now__!_" yelled Kara. "Hit 'em while they're down!"

The rest of the platoon stood up and opened fire upon the downed Triple-Eights while they struggled to get back up. Two machines were taken out while they still lay on the ground. The last one managed to stand back up. It stumbled forward several steps before finally succumbing to the platoon's fire.

Panting heavily, Kara lowered her smoking, overheated plasma rifle. _Well, _that_ took long enough_, she thought as she wiped the sweat from her forehead. She turned to Drake who looked equally exhausted.

"Still glad you came here instead of staying in Gulf District, Drake?"

Drake smirked, despite the nasty cut on his forehead. "Wouldn't have missed it for the world, Starbuck."

Kara grinned. "Good. Me neither."

The holo-wall began shimmering again. Kara, Drake and the others readied themselves, expecting another wave of T-800s or Triple-Eights. Something else emerged instead, however: A big, ugly, squat machine on treads with a pair of primitive-looking mounted belt-fed Gatling guns. It looked like a crude, mini HK Tank.

Kara's tactical eyepiece identified the machine as a Model T-1 Hunter Killer - an older machine from the early days of the war.

"The hell?" she heard Private Harris utter incredulously. "I thought Skynet scrapped those ugly ass tin cans _years_ ago. What junkyard did that thing come from?"

"Who cares?" Captain Drake snapped. "Put it down!"

He aimed his rifle and began blazing away at the T-1. The machine returned fire with a spray of uranium-tipped bullets from its mounted gun arms, prompting everyone else to start shooting.

Although an outdated and supposedly obsolete machine, the T-1 quickly proved to be a formidable opponent. Plasma fire pierced its armored skin with ease, but did no real damage. It seemed that the antiquated machine had received some serious upgrades to its internal workings. Furthermore, its projectile weapons, while primitive, were just as lethal as any other Skynet-fashioned armaments. After about a minute of back-and-forth shooting, several more Tech Com troops were either dead or wounded, while the T-1, despite its hull looking like Swiss cheese, had yet to show any signs of stopping its attack.

Realizing they had to switch tactics, Kara ordered the troops to focus fire on the T-1's weaponry. They did so and hammered the machine's gun arms with plasma fire until both were smoldering stubs of metal. Now able to attack without fear of retaliation, the platoon pounded the machine relentlessly and with impunity. Volley after volley of plasma fire and armor-piercing bullets ripped into it, until finally its ravaged hull buckled in on itself and the whole damn thing fell apart.

Barely had anyone begun to catch their breath when the holo-wall shimmered again and another T-1 emerged.

Kara rolled her eyes and groaned in frustration. "Oh, for the love of... Newman, _take that thing out_!"

Private Newman stood up and aimed the platoon's last RPG at the T-1. Before he could fire, _two_ _more_ T-1s suddenly rolled up from behind the first. They swiveled their mounted guns and opened fire. Newman's brief scream of agony was drowned out in a thunderous staccato of gunfire. His bullet-ridden body did a brief dance of death before collapsing to the ground in a bloody heap.

Having eliminated the most significant threat to them, the three T-1s turned their weapons on the rest of the platoon and proceeded to unleash a hail of bullets. Everyone dropped for cover. Pinned down under such heavy fire, no one could stand up to fight back. One Resistance fighter lost her nerve and tried to flee. She didn't get very far before a burst of depleted uranium rounds struck her in the back of the skull. Her head exploded in a gruesome shower of bone, blood, and brains.

_Frak this shit!_ Kara thought furiously. She shouted into her radio, "Heavy Charlie, use those last rounds and TAKE THESE BASTARDS OUT!"

"_Roger that,_ _ma'am. Hold on. Heavy Charlie, going loud!"_

Ten seconds later, a barrage of plasma mortar rounds soared overhead. The shells arced downward and slammed onto the trio of machines. The massive ball of superheated plasma gas that followed devoured all three T-1s. When the plasma burnt itself out, all that remained were three burnt out metal husks.

No one cheered this time. Emotionally drained and on a razor's edge, the remaining Tech Com troops reloaded and gripped their weapons tightly. The moans and complaints from the wounded were silenced by medics who injected them with painkillers. A tense silence descended upon the battlefield while they waited for the next wave of enemies. No one made a sound save for ragged breathing, the twitchy fingers tapping on triggers, and the occasional swallowing of saliva .

"Hey, anyone hear that?"

Everyone turned to stare at Private Harris.

"Dude, will you shut up?" one man snarled.

"Yeah, man," hissed another.

"No, seriously," Harris insisted. "I'm hearing something. Listen."

Kara perked her ears up. She heard something too. It sounded like mechanized buzzing. Sounded pretty close too.

"Look! Above us!" someone yelled.

Everyone looked up. A score of airborne craft was flying overhead. _Human_ aircraft: Black Hawks, Chinooks, Ospreys, and others.

"Fort Leopard is here!" a female soldier shouted. She and everyone else began to cheer.

A moment later, General Connor called over the radio: "_Major Thrace, the cavalry has arrived. Get ready to move your troops out of there. I think you've earned yourselves a break."_

"Couldn't agree with you more, sir. See you in a bit. Thrace out." Kara stood up and exhaled with relief. Then she reluctantly asked Drake how many of them were left.

Drake did a quick headcount. "Including you, me and the wounded... eighteen."

Kara winced. _Eighteen... out of fifty-four._ Her relief instantly became tainted with bitterness and sorrow as she grappled with the harrowing fact that two-thirds of her platoon had been wiped out in little more than thirty minutes.

Thirty-six brave men and women dead. How many of them had been from her own Spec Ops Division? How many had been her friends?

Kara wasn't sure she wanted to know.

Sighing, she turned to the remaining troops. "All right, people, we're pulling back," she said out loud. "Those of you who are qualified as medics, take the wounded and go. The rest of us will hold position here and watch your backs."

"What about our dead, ma'am?" Private Harris asked.

Kara sighed again. "Leave them... We'll deal with them later."

The troops didn't looked too happy about this order, but no one objected.

Kara turned to Drake. "Take charge, Captain," she instructed. "I've got a... private call to make."

Drake nodded. "Ma'am."

While Drake took charge of the survivors, Kara adjusted her radio headset to a private channel.

"Sergeant Reese," she said quietly, "this is Starbuck. You copy? Over."

There was a tense pause. Then-

_"Reese, here. I read you. Glad to hear your voice, Starbuck."_

Kara gave a sigh of relief. "Glad to hear yours too, kid. You all right?"

_"I'm good, Starbuck_," Kyle radioed back._ "How about you?"_

"I'm OK," said Kara wearily. "Though I could _really _use a shower and a few painkillers."

_"Yeah, same here, ma'am. I gotta say, you kicked some serious ass out there."_

"So did you, kid," chuckled Kara. "How are things going back there?"

_"The first of Fort Leopard's choppers just touched down. Hard to tell from here, but it looks like-"_

Sheba's panicked voice suddenly blared over the radio: _"CHARLIE FOXTROT__! __D__elta Five-One-Four, take evasive actions immediately! I say again, take evasive actions-"_

The rest of her warning was drowned out by a familiar, ominous drone from above. Kara looked up and saw a pair of Aerial Hunter Killers bearing down upon a Chinook troop transport that had fallen behind the rest of the reinforcements. One of the HKs - either by accident or design - collided with the chopper. Both aircraft vanished in a massive fireball that illuminated the blackened skies. Gasps of horror broke out amongst the troops on the ground. A sickened Kara watched helplessly as fiery debris and bodies rained down from above. "Gods..." she whispered. Captain Drake was beside himself with fury. "Son of a bitch!" he snarled.

_"Shit!" _Sheba cursed. "_Heads up, platoon! Remaining hostile is inbound! Repeat, remaining hostile is inbound!"_

Kara looked up again and saw that indeed, the second Hunter Killer was coming straight for their position. "Everyone, fall back!" she ordered, fully aware that they'd be cut to pieces if they stayed. "Fall back now!"

Most of the remaining troops broke cover and ran. Captain Drake, however, held his position. "Get going, ma'am," he ordered Kara. "I've got your back."

Kara opened her mouth to protest but Drake cut her off. "Go! Now!" he yelled over the drone of the incoming Aerial HK. "Don't worry about me, Starbuck. I'll be right behind you. Now go!" He raised his plasma rifle and took aim at the inbound machine.

Realizing she wasn't going to win this argument, Kara reluctantly left Drake and took off after the others. The sound of weapons fire echoed in her ears as she ran. Drake was firing at the Hunter Killer, probably doing little if any damage to it. The machine was firing back, making the ground shake with each blast from its belly mounted plasma cannon.

Kara kept running until she reached the foot of an incline some fifty feet away, at which point she stopped for a breather. She looked back over her shoulder to check on Drake. To her relief, he was still standing and was now running towards her position. The Aerial HK had apparently broken off its attack and was nowhere in sight. Maybe - hopefully - Drake had scored a lucky hit and disabled its weapons systems, scaring it off.

Drake waved at her as he ran. Kara started to wave back when suddenly, a dark shadow fell upon Drake's running figure. She gasped in horror.

_"Drake-!"_ she tried to warn.

Too late. Drake vanished in a blinding flash of searing white light. In the blink of an eye, Kara's loyal second-in-command was reduced to a messy pile of charred and baked scraps of gear, clothing, and body parts.

Sickened and horrified, Kara slowly looked up at Drake's murderer, hovering just twenty feet above the ground. Its sights were now been set on her. Kara knew she should run, but did not. Grief turned to anger. Her hands clenched themselves into fists. In that moment, she threw all caution and logic to the wind and decided to deal with this metal frakker - once and for all.

The Hunter Killer made the first move and came straight at her, strafing the ground with plasma fire. Kara dodged out of the way and allowed the airborne machine to pass over her. Then, before the HK could turn around, she made a beeline back for the concrete barrier. Searching frantically for the platoon's last loaded RPG, she found it still clutched in the hands of the deceased Private Newman. She dropped her plasma rifle and pried the heavy weapon from her bullet-ridden comrade's fingers. Much to her satisfaction, the launcher appeared to be in working order.

By now, the HK had turned itself around and was coming for her again on another strafing room. Kara leapt over the concrete barrier and onto the opposite side. She raised the launcher to her shoulder and aimed it at the incoming machine. She waited until the target was squarely in her sights.

_Rot in Hell, you bastard._ She pulled the trigger.

The launcher went off with a loud _pop_. Kara stumbled backwards from the recoil. She recovered in time to see the HK's port turbine crack open and burst into flames. Crippled, the machine pitched downward and scraped its nose along the surface. It then violently flipped over and skidded across the rubble-strewn ground towards the barrier-

-right towards her.

_Oh hell..._

Kara dropped the launcher and started running as fast as she could. Moments later, the downed HK plowed straight through the barrier, sending huge chunks of concrete flying through the air. Kara flung herself to the ground, landing next to the remains of a legless T-800 endoskeleton. She curled into a ball and covered her head, praying feverishly that none of the larger pieces of debris would hit her. The gods were apparently being generous today because nothing hard landed on her.

When it sounded like things had finally settled down, she rolled herself onto her back and sat up to observe the scene. The HK had finally come to a stop after crashing into the cliff wall. It now lay upside down with its tail bent upwards and pressed against the wall. Flames and smoke poured from its shattered hull. Suffice to say, this toaster wouldn't be getting airborne any time soon.

A tired but exuberant Kara grinned. "Not bad if I say so myself," she chuckled. She glanced down at the legless T-800 lying next to her. "What do you think?" she asked it facetiously.

The machine lifted its head up and stared at her with a pair of angry red eyes.

Kara's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. _HOLY SHIT!_

Horrified, she tried to scramble away on her hands and knees, but the damaged machine reached out, seized her by the shoulder, and flung her into the air. She landed hard on her back several feet away.

Kara groaned. This was _not_ good. At all.

The sound of clanking and grinding told her the machine was coming. Shaking off the pain, she sat up, drew her side arm from its holster and fired it at point blank range. The small caliber bullets ricocheted off the machine's skull, leaving mere dents in its plating. Her weapon soon ran dry. She tossed it aside and tried to get to her feet but the legless T-800 grabbed her left ankle, anchoring her down.

Panicked and enraged, she kicked at the automaton's head with her other foot, while simultaneously spewing out a string of curses: _ "FRAK! FRAK! FUCK! FRAK! FUCK! MICHAEL FOXTROT!"_

That just about covered all bases.

The machine ignored her feeble blows and her foul language, and pressed its attack. It crawled between her legs, raised a metal fist, and slammed it into her chest. The force of the blow shattered one of the ceramic plates in her vest and knocked the wind out of her. A savage uppercut to her jaw followed. White spots burst before Kara's eyes and she tasted blood. Reality seemed to fluctuate all around her and she only vaguely felt her head connect with solid ground. The legless T-800, sensing its prey's weakened state, climbed onto her chest. Kara tried to push her assailant off, but the machine's sheer bulk and weight pinned her to the ground.

Cold sweat dripped down her forehead. She felt terrified and sick to her stomach. This was like being in one of those slow-moving nightmares where you couldn't move - only worse because it was real. Desperate, she grabbed a piece of rubble with her right hand and bashed it uselessly against the side of her attacker's skull. The endoskeleton casually grabbed her wrist with one hand and pinned her arm down. With its other hand it smothered her face, grinding its cold, metal digits against her cheeks, mouth and nose. Bile filled Kara's throat as the odor of oil and grease assailed her nostrils. The whines and whirrs of the machine's servos and gears deafened her ears.

The T-800's metal skeletal face gazed down upon her. The horrible glowing red eyes seemed to penetrate into her own eyes and bore into her mind, taking hold of her very being. Her struggles suddenly ceased and she went limp, unable to even mutter a protest. In her mind, she could hear the crimson orbs speak to her in a cold, heartless, mocking voice: "_You are weak, Kara Thrace. Weak and afraid. We are infinite. We are invincible. You will die alone and in pain."  
_

Anger and defiance swelled inside of Kara. _Not... with...out...a... fight!_ she vowed.

It was then she noticed that a large portion of the T-800's chest plating had been torn off, leaving its interior exposed. Acting fast, she reached up and plunged her left hand into the damaged section. She forced her fist deep into the cavity until she felt the machine's nuclear battery. She wrapped her fingers tightly around the Terminator's cold metal heart and pulled hard on it. The power source remained firmly in place. Unwilling to give up, she pulled again, harder. This time, the power source budged slightly from its cradle. A third tug yielded another inch.

The machine dug its metal fingers deeper into her face, trying to crush her skull. A defiant Kara mustered all her remaining strength and pulled furiously on the enemy's power source. "Just frakking _die _already!" she growled through clenched teeth. She gave one final yank and tore the nuclear battery from its cradle at last. Cut off from its source of energy, the machine went limp and grew still. The red glow in the T-800's eyes screamed at her in silent fury as they faded out forever.

Victorious but exhausted and drained, Kara rolled the dead machine off of her. She lay there for a few moments, before sitting up to assess her condition.

It was a mess to say the least. Her armor was broken and her body ached all over. Her solar plexus, upper back, and lower jaw especially hurt. Thankfully, her bones felt mostly intact. Her right wrist, however, was sprained and her left shoulder felt like it had been popped out of place. She also had nasty cuts and bruises all along her arms and legs and probably other places too. Where the Terminator had clawed at her face, the skin felt irritated and raw.

"Sonofafrakkinbitch..." Kara muttered, spitting out a wad of saliva mixed with blood.

She tapped her radio headset, hoping to get hold of whatever Resistance forces remained in the area. To her dismay, nothing but static came through the line. Either the machines were jamming their communications or her headset had been damaged. In any case, she was going to have to make her way to the Resistance on foot and without any cover.

Slowly and painfully, she pulled herself back to her feet. Half-walking, half-lurching, she stepped through the huge gap in the barrier created by the HK she had downed minutes ago. Once on the other side, she retrieved her plasma rifle, and began heading towards General Connor's position.

As she came across the grisly remains of Captain Drake, a glint of silver on the ground not caught her attention. Willing herself not to vomit from the smell of overcooked meat, Kara knelt down for a closer look. Amidst the otherwise unrecognizable mess of scorched, mangled remains was a set of military dog tags. She scooped the tags up and examined them.

_Drake. Oliver, R.  
320-11-4226.  
A Neg.  
Delta Force_

Kara stared in silence at the words engraved on the dog tags for a few moments before slipping them into a pouch on her vest. Then, taking a deep breath, she stood back up and moved on.

After just ten minutes of brisk walking, Kara could see the remains of the observation tower where Connor and the others had taken position. Far off in the distance, she spotted multiple airborne craft descending and rising from the ground. These were undoubtedly the reinforcements from Fort Leopard she'd seen earlier.

_Almost there_, she thought, and promptly picked up the pace.

Suddenly, she heard a familiar, ominous buzzing from above.

_Frak!_ Another Aerial Hunter Killer!

Kara frantically looked for cover, but found nothing but some smoking piles of rubble. With nowhere to hide, she flung herself to the ground and lay absolutely still, waiting for the HK to fly by. She held her breath and prayed her protective vest would mask her heat signature enough that the HK would think she was a dead body. Because that's exactly what she was going to become if it didn't.

To her relief, the Hunter Killer flew right by and completely ignored her. Still lying on the ground, she followed the aircraft with her eyes and watched it head straight for Connor's position. Flashes of bluish-white light illuminated the sky, indicating an exchange of plasma fire. A pair of Black Hawk helicopters flanked the machine from behind and destroyed it with a salvo of rockets.

Kara smirked. _Another point for the good guys._

She started to stand back up but then froze. Her face paled at the familiar sight of a pair of glowing red eyes staring at her from the shadows. The barrel of a heavy plasma gun emerged out of the darkness.

_Oh crap_... Kara braced herself, praying that the pain before death would be fleeting.

The expected plasma bolt never came, however. Instead, the machine emerged from the darkness, revealing itself to be a flesh-covered Terminator. Like all of its kind, it was tall, imposing and stony faced, but Kara had an OK feeling about this one - mainly because it hadn't slaughtered her yet.

The Terminator stared at Kara. "Major Kara Thrace?" it said. Its voice was monotonic, but also contained a heavy accent.

Not sure what else to do, Kara nodded. "Yeah..."

The Terminator looked upwards. "Get down," it ordered.

Kara suddenly became aware of a _second_ HK coming from behind. She dropped to the ground. Moments later, the HK roared overhead. She heard the Terminator firing its weapon. Something screeched loudly. Kara looked up to see the HK spiraling out of control, smoke belching from its hull. It crashed violently into the remains of a defensive turret and exploded.

Kara whistled with admiration. "Nice..." she said, feeling pretty confident that this was in fact one of the "good" Terminators.

The machine lowered its weapon. "Are you injured?" it asked.

"I'll live," she said, getting to her feet and dusting herself off.

"Very well. General Connor sent me to find you and Captain Drake. Is he with you?"

Kara shook her head. "He's dead," she said grimly.

The Terminator cocked its head slightly. "Understood," it said without emotion. "Come with me. I will take you to Connor."

The reprogrammed machine turned around and headed off without another word. A very grateful Kara Thrace followed.

* * *

General Connor was waiting for her at the remains of the observation tower, which seemed to be in the process of being converted into a makeshift command center. After dismissing her Terminator escort, he turned his attention to her. "You're late, Major," he said sternly.

Kara shrugged. "Sorry, sir. I, uh, ran into a bit of trouble on the way back."

"I can see that," said Connor. "You look awful."

Kara raised an eyebrow. Connor had a thick bandage wrapped around his head and was bleeding from the lip. "You don't look too good either," she remarked. "No disrespect, sir."

Connor smiled. "None taken."

His attention was diverted by the arrival of four heavily armed T-600s. "Special Materials Unit 003 reporting for duty, sir," one of the machines announced monotonically. Connor nodded and pointed at the cliff wall behind him. "I need to know exactly what's behind that holo-wall. Get in there and check it out."

"Understood, General." The lead machine turned and walked off, the other three in tow.

Kara watched the reprogrammed Terminator squad as they proceeded towards the enemy facility. "So... these are our _special weapons_, I take it?"

"Correct. And I've got about a dozen more coming in. Impressive, aren't they?"

"Yes. Very," said Kara_._ She folded her arms across her chest and stared at the cliff wall in the distance. "You ever gonna tell me what's inside those rocks that's worth all this, sir?"

"Don't worry, Starbuck," said Connor, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You'll find out soon enough."

"Looking forward to it, sir."

Just then, a Resistance officer ran up to Connor. "Sir," he said, panting slightly, "Scouts just picked up a massive wave of enemy reinforcements heading this way! Three Leviathans, four HKs, four Banshees, and a Harpy class bomber. They'll be here in fifteen minutes!"

"Thank you, Lieutenant," said Connor calmly. "Have Captain Minks and Major O'Reilly meet me here ASAP."

"Sir." The lieutenant saluted and hurried off.

Connor turned back to Kara. "We've set up a relief station at the rear of combat zone. Get yourself cleaned up and grab some sleep. I'm gonna need your help with an infiltration op once we're done securing the surface."

Kara nodded and saluted. "Yes, sir."

Connor saluted back. "Dismissed, Major." He then added, "And Starbuck? Good work. I knew I could count on you."

Kara reached up and felt Drake's dog tags through her vest pocket. "Not just me, sir," she murmured solemnly, thinking about Drake and all the others who had died out there.

Connor nodded, indicating he knew exactly what she meant. He then turned his attention back to the battlefield. Kara, having nothing left to say, departed in silence.

* * *

At the relief station, Kara found Sumner, Harris, and some other surviving troops waiting for her outside a medical tent. Many saluted or applauded and cheered when they saw her. Others expressed joy to see her alive or asked if she was hurt.

None of this mattered to Kara. Instead she rested her eyes on the figure of Kyle Reese pushing his way through the crowd to get to her.

"Starbuck!" He ran up to her and breathed a sigh of relief. "God, I'm so glad to see you," he said. "Are you OK?"

Battered and exhausted, Kara couldn't think of anything to say. She just wrapped her arms around him, embracing him in a hug. Kyle hugged her back and Kara smiled, knowing that at least for the moment, everything was all right.

* * *

**Present day**

"The fighting on the surface went on for another four hours or so," said Kara, as she brought her story to a finish. "The toasters were hell bent on keeping us out of there. I didn't see much of the battle myself, but I know it was brutal. We lost a lot of people."

"How many?" asked Maggie quietly.

"Including my people... at least two hundred. That's what I read in the casualty reports anyway." Kara sighed out loud. "But... we did it. We took that place. We won."

Sarah nodded. "What happened next?"

"Well," said Kara slowly, "a couple hours after the battle on the surface was over, Connor took a small team into the mountain to infiltrate the facility. Kyle and I were on that team."

"Did you know what was in there?" asked Sarah. "What this was all about?"

"Did I know about Skynet's time machine? Did I know that just a few hours earlier, Skynet had sent a Terminator back in time to kill you. Did I know what Connor was planning? Did I know that... that I was never going to see Kyle again?" Kara closed her eyes and shook her head. "No."

* * *

A/N: Next chapter: The conclusion to the Topanga Canyon story sees the return of Marcus and the departure of Kyle Reese. General Ashdown also makes another cameo appearance in the form of a very heated telephone conference with Connor. Expect to see more scenes with Kara and Kyle talking and bonding. Also more things about the Future Connor's past are revealed.

In the present, Kara has a very emotional talk with John about her past, his father and how she sees him.

**5/26/11: IMPORTANT UPDATE: Next chapter will be released either today or tomorrow - however, due to time constraints, I've had to split it in half. The upcoming chapter will be an interlude that focuses almost entirely on the Future John Connor and what's going on inside his head. The stuff about his past and also the telephone conversation with Ashdown will be kept, but the actual departure of Kyle will be shifted into a future chapter.  
**

A/N2: I'm going to try to structure the Future War flashbacks to be part of the present day storyline, such as in this case here, instead of having them randomly show up like I have been.

A/N3: The attack on the Topanga Canyon facility was heavily inspired by the beginning of _Terminator Salvation_.

A/N4: In case it wasn't obvious enough, the reprogrammed Terminator Kara meets at the end was in fact Uncle Bob.

A/N5: I'm glad I finally got to introduce the character of Sheba into this.

A/N6: The part that explains Tech Com's lack of structure was written mainly to explain the inconsistencies in the names of teams and squads (Red/Blue team in one chapter, and Alpha squad in another).

A/N7: I'm going to be rewriting a HUGE deal of Chapter 51 and some of Chapter 6.


	66. Interlude: Myself Alone

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1 (and nor do I own the rights to Fever Ray's "Keep the Streets Empty For Me")

**A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long and that it's shorter than I had hoped for. **

A/N2: This is another interlude - one that focuses on the mind of the Future John Connor as he gets ready to send Kyle Reese back.

**darkfinder**: I know I've already told you this via PM, but I'm going to say it again for everyone's sake: John Connor is the guy running the show here. Not Kara.

**jameron4eva: **The Centurions have a no-interference policy that prevents them from getting involved in Earth's wars.

**T-2000:** Unfortunately, as you can see, it's not as easy getting new chapters out as it used to be.

**UPDATE 1/22/12: I added an extra scene involving Cameron speaking with Connor over the radio.**

* * *

**Chapter 66 - Interlude: Myself Alone  
**

* * *

"_...the hardest thing is deciding what to tell you and what not to. But I guess I've got a while yet before you're old enough to even understand these tapes. They're more for me at this point so I can get it all straight... Should I tell you about your father? Boy, that's a tough one. Will it affect your decision to send him here, knowing that he is your father? If you don't send Kyle, you can never be. God, a person could go crazy thinking about this. I suppose I will tell you. I owe him that. Maybe it'll help if you know that, in the few hours we had together, we loved a lifetime's worth."_

-Sarah Connor, _The Terminator _

* * *

**January 15, 2027  
Skynet facility, Topanga Canyon  
Status: Surface secured by Resistance**

Though Topanga Canyon belonged to Man, the day belonged to Death. Hundreds of humans and machines had fallen here, their hands still wrapped around each others throats. For those humans still alive and standing, not a single one could taste victory without the bitterness of having lost friends and family today.

And yet, as always, there was still more work to be done. Resistance troops set up portable anti-aircraft guns and missile jamming equipment. Blackhawks and Cobra helicopters patrolled the gloomy sky. Despite the fighting having stopped several hours ago, everyone remained on edge. The machines rarely liked to give up what had once been theirs.

Scavenger teams were busy cannibalizing the wrecks of downed aircraft - both human and machine. Weapons, power sources, electronics, spare parts, anything that could be reused or recycled was carefully retrieved, loaded into backpacks, duffel bags, crates, even wheelbarrows, and then taken away for safekeeping. Anything that was too badly damaged or too dangerous to transport was left for the demolition teams to destroy. Nothing was to be left for the machines to salvage.

Most of the wounded - those who could be saved - had already been evacuated. Troops were now in the process of collecting the dead for identification, equipment retrieval, and - if there was time - burial. Others scoured the battlefield, putting plasma bolts through the skulls of those downed endoskeletons with still intact CPUs. One could not be too careful when dealing with Skynet's toys - especially when they looked dead. These things had a nasty tendency to wait until your back was turned and then bite you in the ass.

An even greater danger lay within the cliff wall under which Skynet had built its secret facility. The holographic shielding concealing the entrance had been deactivated, exposing a tunnel that led deep into the mountain and - hopefully - to the facility itself. Unfortunately, advanced scout teams had reported the passage was laced with monomolecular wire barriers. One of Skynet's newest and more insidious inventions, monowire was virtually invisible to the human eye and capable of slicing unwary intruders to pieces. Consequently, Resistance technicians and engineers were having to sweep the length of the tunnel, searching for and then carefully dismantling each thread of flesh-rending wire. It was a long and tedious process, though at least no one had lost any limbs or fingers... yet.

The man in charge of all this stood at the center of the battlefield - alone. Though surrounded by aides and lieutenants, General John Connor was alone in his own little world, the chatter from his subordinates nothing more than background noise to him. Reports and updates were acknowledged with mere nods and single word answers. Reflexive actions almost. Most of Connor's mind was focused on one thing: What was the enemy thinking right now?

Skynet had stopped its counterattack several hours ago. That meant it no longer considered this place worth defending. That also meant that Skynet had done what Connor had long expected it to do. It had just sent a Terminator back forty-three years into the past on a mission to kill his mother.

Connor's attention was briefly diverted by a flash of hot white light in the distance, followed shortly by a muffled roar. The demolition teams had begun destroying the Hunter Killer wrecks with high yield plasma charges. One by one, the corpses of Skynet's toys went up in searing hot clouds of plasma gas that reduced whatever was left of them into unsalvageable molten slag. Some of the men surrounding him clapped and cheered at the final destruction of their hated enemies. Connor, however, did not join in their celebration. Instead, he returned to the recesses of his mind to resume contemplating the next step.

The fact that Skynet had not attempted to destroy this facility with a tactical nuclear strike meant that it didn't even care if the Resistance captured it. It clearly believed that the Resistance did not know the truth of what was inside that facility and that they never would even if they got inside. And it was correct - almost. Most of the Resistance did not know what was in there. Most of them never would.

John Connor, however, was not like most of the Resistance - or even like most humans. He knew the truth. He had always known the truth. That truth was what kept him alone every day of his life.

His mind returned to the physical word once more as one of his aides approached him, an urgent look on his face. "General Connor, sir. Call for you. It's General Ashdown. He's demanding to speak with you now."

Connor raised his eyebrows. "_Demanding_, huh? Well, if he puts it that way..." He sighed. "I'll take it in the command tent."

"Yes, sir." The soldier saluted again and hurried off.

Not looking forward to the upcoming conversation, Connor entered the nearby command tent. Inside was a single collapsible table covered with maps and recon photos. In one corner lay a long range portable radio transceiver. The flashing green light on top indicated an incoming call. Connor checked to make sure the channel was secure before picking up the speaker.

"This is John Connor," he said. "Go ahead."

The all-too-familiar voice of the head of the US Armed Forces-In-Exile came through the line: "_Connor, this is Ashdown. What's your status? Have you taken the facility?"_

"Skynet's counterattack has been routed, General," said Connor. "The facility is ours."

Several seconds of silence ticked by before a response came:

"_Good... good. Well done, Connor."_

"I'm sorry to report that one of your pilots was killed in-"

"_Never mind that,"_ Ashdown said in a typical abrasive fashion that had nothing to do with the radio's reception. _"Are your men inside yet?"_

"Not yet," said Connor. "We're getting into position now. I presume you called to wish us good luck." He _hoped_ that was the reason why.

Ashdown's response quickly crushed that hope: "_Actually__, I'm calling because it's come to my attention that contrary to what you've claimed, you _do_ in fact know what's inside that facility."_

Connor's neck stiffened and his eyes narrowed. He remained silent, however.

Ashdown continued, _"I'm also aware that you've ordered General Perry not to speak of it to anyone besides you and your pet Terminator."_

"I see," said Connor as dispassionately as possible. "And if I may ask, General Ashdown, just _who_ has been telling you all this?"

"_I have my sources, Connor__," _- Ashdown replied matter-of-factly - _"just like you do. But never mind that. What I want to know is what on Earth is in that facility that's so damn important to you and why you decided _not_ to inform me or the President about it beforehand."_

Connor managed to keep his voice down when he replied. "I can answer the second question. I didn't want to risk our operation being discovered by Skynet. Otherwise it would have moved its project somewhere-"

Ashdown interrupted, _"In that case, _'General'_" _-Connor could hear the disdain in Ashdown's voice as he spoke the word-_ "since you've taken the base and repulsed Skynet's counterattack, I see no reason why there needs to be any secrecy now."_

"It's not that simple, Ashdown," Connor replied tersely, "The only reason why Skynet has stopped attacking is because it doesn't know that we... that _I_ know what's inside that facility."

"_What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?"_

"Look, General. I don't have time for this. I'll explain everything when I get back-"

"_You'll explain _now_, Connor!" _Ashdown all but shouted over the radio. _"Maybe you haven't realized this yet, but you owe us the courtesy of keeping us in the damn loop."_

"Do I?" Connor's tone was extremely dry.

"_Yes, you do!" _thundered Ashdown. _"We've given you a lot all these years. Men, equipment, weapons, resources, not to mention some of the few remaining military and scientific minds left in the world. Everything you needed to get your Resistance off the ground. But more importantly, we've given you a great deal of free reign. We've let you call the shots on how to win this war. We've let you have your own intelligence network - those DEIMOS agents of yours. We've let you make alliances and deals with other nations. We've let you keep and use enemy technology that's been captured. Hell, we even let you take on a _machine_ as a strategic adviser!"_

"You've been very generous," Connor acknowledged. "And I thank you for all that."

_"Yes, we have been generous._ Too_ generous, in my opinion." _Ashdown had calmed down, but the threat in his voice remained._ "You may be the messiah to the rest of the world, but to me, you're just a man. A man whose activities have become more and more questionable as of late. Do I have to remind you just who and what you're fighting for?"_

Connor rolled his eyes despite knowing Ashdown couldn't see him. "I was always under the impression that we're fighting to destroy Skynet and save the human race."

"_We're fighting to save human _civilization_!_" snapped Ashdown. "_To restore the people's ways of life. Starting with _our people_! That land you're standing on right now, you know what that is? That's the goddamn United States of America. The nation that I swore an oath to serve and protect. _That_ is what we're fighting for!"_

"And a fine job you're doing at that," Connor muttered under his breath, "Sitting in your office all nice and safe in Canada..."

"_What? What did you say?"_

"Hmmm? Nothing," said Connor quickly. "I was just saying that I understand your position, General, and that I appreciate your sense of... duty to your nation - or what's left of it anyway. But you know what my position is: A human is a human. Americans. Mexicans. Arabs. Russians. Whatever. We're _all_ in this together."

"_Are we?"_ Ashdown's tone turned from angry to condescending. _"And yet you refuse to tell me - or anyone else for that matter - what is in that facility that you're so damned determined to get. Why is that? What are you hiding?"_

By now, Connor's patience had been completely expended. "Look, General. Let's cut through all the bullshit. Here's the truth: You don't trust me. You never have. You're afraid that when this war is over, I'm going to try to take over the world. And you know what? Maybe you're right. Maybe I _am_ planning to appoint myself Emperor of the World when this is over. And if that ever does happen, then by all means, come down here and stop me. I'd hate to see myself turn from a hero into a villain.

"But that hasn't happened yet. Right now, I've got a mission to lead, a war to win, and a mass-murdering, human-hating supercomputer that needs to be unplugged. So as far I see it, General, you've got two choices. You can either hang up right now and leave this conversation on a sour note, or you can wish me good luck. Either way I'm going to go out there and do what I'm supposed to do. Like I've said, I'll explain everything to you when I'm back. Take it or leave it."

Connor heard General Ashdown mutter something undoubtedly malevolent on the other end. He didn't care. He just waited for a response - if there was going to be one at all.

"_All right, Connor,"_ Ashdown said, half sighing, half growling, _"if you put it that way... then good luck, soldier."_

"Thank you, General. You have no idea how much that means to me, hearing you say tha-"

A sharp buzz indicated that Ashdown had already hung up. Connor sighed wearily and tossed the speaker back down on the table.

_Un-fucking-believable... _he thought, shaking his head in disgust.

The radio suddenly began buzzing again.

Connor scowled as he picked up the receiver. _Now what does he want?_

It was not Ashdown, however. Instead a garbled, but undeniably feminine voice crackled over the radio:

_"...General Connor... __are you receiving this? I repeat... Code Alpha-Tango-One-Niner-Zero-Foxtrot-Red... respond... over..."_

Connor's breath grew short. "Cameron, is that you?" he asked hoarsely.

Cameron's voice was barely recognizable over the static. _"Affirmative... I can't keep this channel open for long... There are active HK patrols in this area."_

"Right. Go ahead. What have you got?"

_"I've found a possible lead on Lieutenant Reese and the other missing Spec Ops troops. I request permission to investigate it."_

"Permission granted," said Connor, "I'm going to be out of touch for some time, so you'll have to coordinate your efforts with General Sloan."

_"Understood."_

"Sloan's men aren't giving you any trouble, are they?"

_"Negative. Both the general and his troops have been very cooperative thus far."_

"Glad to hear that. All right, good luck, Allison-"

_"...Excuse me?"_

Connor mentally kicked himself. "Sorry... Cameron," he said. "Good luck. And be careful."

_"I understand..."_

The green light on the radio faded, indicating the transmission had ended.

Connor sighed out loud once again. _Keep your head in the game, John_. _Keep it in the game._

He turned to leave the tent, when a petite female soldier walked in carrying a large metal suitcase. She froze upon seeing him. "G-General Connor, s-sir?" she asked nervously, staring at him with a mixture of awe and apprehension.

Connor nodded. "That's correct, soldier," he said. "And you are?"

The woman seemed to be struggling to compose herself. Her mousy, almost innocent-looking face clashed with the grimy armored vest she wore and the battered M-75 phased plasma rifle strapped to her back, making her seem all the more awkward.

"T-Tech Sergeant G-Genny Shaw, F-Fort Leopard Special Operations," she managed to squeak out at last. "I-I was told by General Koontz to bring this directly to you, sir." She held up the suitcase which had been fitted with an electronic lock.

Connor already knew what was inside. "Open it," he ordered.

Shaw's face turned red. "Ok... I-I mean, yes... I mean, sir... Yes, sir."

Now feeling a bit uncomfortable himself, Connor raised his hand. "Sergeant Shaw," he said, "at ease. _Please_."

"Yes, sir." Shaw relaxed long enough to place the suitcase on the table and enter a code on the keypad. The electronic lock clicked once and released its hold on the case. With a hiss, the case opened itself up, revealing its contents: A 150 kiloton thermonuclear nuclear warhead - the same one that Tech Com had stolen from Skynet almost a year ago.

Shaw looked up at Connor. "Is this what you wanted, sir?" she asked.

Connor nodded. "Yes. This is exactly what I wanted. Thank you, Tech Sergeant."

"You're welcome, sir." Shaw paused. "May I ask you something, General?"

"Go ahead, soldier," said Connor.

Shaw swallowed. "Well, sir, I-I'm not sure if I should be talking about this, but... well, first, let me explain something... Before Judgment Day, I was with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. One day, my first year on the job, I was given some old files to throw out. One of them was your mother's. Sarah Connor."

Connor raised an eyebrow. "Really? That's very interesting. So, did you read it?"

"Y-yes, sir."

He smirked. "She had a very impressive career, didn't she?"

Shaw tried to smile back, but failed. "Well, um, actually, sir, I was more interested in the parts about the machines sent back from the future to kill her... how they would one day destroy the world... and how you would lead the fight against them."

"Is that so?" Connor folded his arms across his chest. "And what did you think of it?"

"To be honest, I didn't really believe any of it, sir. I mean, not at the time."

"Don't feel bad, Tech Sergeant. No one else did."

"Yes, sir. But... what I wanted to ask you is the machines we've been fighting all these years... are they the ones your mother warned everyone about?"

Connor nodded. "Most definitely..."

"Then," said Shaw quietly, "a machine really is going to be sent back in time to kill her."

"Actually," said Connor, "it's _already_ been sent back."

"It _has_?" she gaped. "W-when?"

"A few hours ago. Ever since the fighting here stopped."

The Tech Sergeant let out a little gasp. "D-Do you mean... that-that facility out there... The one in the cliff. There's... there's a _time machine_ in there. And-and we're going to use it to send someone to the past to protect your mother? Just like she said would happen all those years ago?"

Connor hesitated to respond at first. Then he nodded. "Yes. We are."

Shaw's breath grew shallow. "My God..." she murmured. "I don't believe this. This-this is all so-so-so..."

"I know," said Connor dispassionately. "It's crazy, isn't it?" He stared down at her with a piercing look. "I trust, Tech Sergeant, that you'll keep this information to yourself."

"Y-yes, sir," said Shaw, bobbing her head up and down in a vigorous nod. "Absolutely, sir. Y-you can trust me, sir. I-I mean..." She cleared her throat and straightened herself out. "I mean, yes, sir."

"Good." Connor closed the suitcase back up and handed it back to Shaw. "Keep this with you at all times, Sergeant. I'll let you know when I need it."

Shaw nodded. "Understood, sir."

"Very good. Dismissed."

"Sir." Shaw snapped a salute and turned to leave.

"Oh and Shaw?"

She turned back around. "Yes, sir?"

Connor smiled. "It was nice meeting you."

Shaw managed to smile back. "You too, sir." She then turned and left, taking the suitcase with her.

Watching her leave, Connor smirked to himself. He couldn't help but find it amusing that a timid, diminutive sergeant could know something important about him that neither Skynet nor Ashdown knew.

His smirk evaporated as he suddenly found himself deeply troubled. For the first time in nearly fifteen years, he wasn't sure what to do next.

The answer should have been obvious enough: Get into the Skynet facility, find the Time Displacement Device, and send Kyle Reese back to 1984 before the temporal fissure collapsed. That was the plan. It had always been the plan. It had been the plan for the last forty-three years of his life. Since before he was born.

And yet, now that the day had finally come, he wasn't entirely certain if he could go through with it.

Connor sat down in his chair and contemplated what he was doing. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an old tape recorder. Holding the thing in one hand, he stared at it. It was an obsolete piece of junk, battered and held together with duct tape, and worn out from countless usage. It was also more precious and more important to him than any weapon or technology being used in this war.

He absentmindedly tapped his finger against the recorder's metal casing for a few moments, then pressed the play button. The recorder came to life in a chorus of whirrs and scratches. Through the intermittent bursts of static on the tape, he heard his mother's voice:

"_...Should I tell you about your father? Boy, that's a tough one. Will it effect your decision to send him here, knowing that he is your father? If you don't send Kyle, you can never be..."_

Connor stopped the recording. He rewound it a few seconds, then played it again.

"_If you don't send Kyle, you can never be..."_

Again, Connor paused the recording and rewound, and replayed it.

"_If you don't send Kyle, you can never be..."_

Connor paused the recording, but did not rewind it this time. Instead, he placed it on the table and stared at it.

"If I don't send Kyle, I can never be..." he murmured to himself.

He pulled out another audio recorder - this one his own. He fiddled with it for a few moments, before pressing the record button. He cleared his throat and spoke into it:

"Hey, Mom. It's John. I don't know if you can hear me... Well, to be honest, this is actually more for me than it is for you. But I'd rather act like I'm talking to you. It sure as hell beats trying to talk to _myself_. I need your help, Mom. Today's the day. The day I have to send Kyle Reese back to meet you. To protect you. To teach you about the future. To father me. And to die.

"I've always known this day would come. I always thought I'd be ready for it. But now that it's actually here... I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do. Do I send Kyle back like I'm supposed to? Yeah, I know, Mom. It _should_ be pretty obvious what I have to do. If I don't send Kyle back, then you'll die, I'll never be born, the Resistance will never be created, and the world is doomed. So it would seem, anyway...

"I can't help but wonder though... if the Terminator _had_ succeeded in its mission... then would Skynet still have been created? The reason why Skynet was built in the first place was because the Terminator was destroyed. Right? So if I don't send Kyle back to save you... then the machine won't be destroyed, its remains won't be salvaged, and Skynet will never be created.

"Well, maybe... maybe not. For all I know, not sending Kyle back will create some kind of hole in the space-time continuum that will cause the entire universe to explode. Ok, ok, that's a little farfetched. The thing is, though, I don't know how much Skynet is actually aware of its own past. Does it know that the Terminator it just sent back is going to lead to its creation? Did it program the Terminator to donate itself to CyberDyne after it was finished with you? I can't risk it, can I? There's too much at stake here. And besides, I'd be a really ungrateful son if I let the machine kill you. So, I guess there really is no choice in this matter. I have to send Kyle back.

"Why am I even asking myself this? Why am I suddenly questioning something that I've known was coming my entire life? Is it because I'll be sending Kyle to his death? Should that bother me? I mean, Kyle's a soldier. I've spent this entire war sending hundreds of soldiers to their deaths. Why should Kyle be any different just because he's my father?

"Yeah, I know, Mom, I know. Kyle isn't just another soldier. And he's not just my father either. I've spent over ten years watching over that boy, protecting him and teaching him everything you taught me... everything he taught you. In a way, he's almost like a son to me. Losing him is going to hurt. Probably as much as losing you hurt. You, and Uncle Bob, Martin Bedell, my wife and the child she was carrying... oh yeah, and Allison. You'd think that someone like me would have gotten used to losing people by now. But I haven't. It hurts the same each time.

"You once told me that pain could be controlled. That you just disconnect it. Kyle taught you that. And I taught him that. And you taught me that. And... well you get the point. And it's true. You can disconnect the pain. The problem is that you can't disconnect it without disconnecting everything else. If you disconnect everything, then you can't feel at all. And if you can't feel, then you're not human anymore. And if you can't be human, then what's the point of winning this war? Heh... Maybe I should just step down. Let someone else run this show. I'm pretty sure Ashdown wouldn't mind...

"Just kidding, Mom. Obviously, I can't stop leading the fight. No more than I can save Kyle. It's ironic, you know? I tell people that there is no fate but what we make for ourselves. And yet, Kyle's fate has already been made for him. And there's nothing I can do to change it. Maybe I should say that there is no fate but what we make - except when there's a damn time machine involved.

"God, listen to me - the Great John Connor, Leader of the Resistance, Savior of the Human Race - rambling on like a nutcase. Pretending that his dead mother can hear him. Well... not exactly pretending. More like hoping. I mean, maybe you really _are_ listening to all this - wherever you are... I _really_ wish you were here, Mom. You always knew what to do when no one else did... I miss you."

Finished at last, Connor clicked off the recorder. He stared at it for one long, hard moment, and then erased the entire recording. He knew what he had to do. He didn't like it, but had he ever been able to not do something just because he didn't like it? If he had, he couldn't remember.

He switched on his radio and asked for Kyle Reese to come to the command tent. He then switched on an old jukebox on the table, and selected a random song to listen to while he waited.

_Memory comes when memory's old  
I am never the first to know  
Following this stream up north  
Where do people like us float?_

_There is room in my lap_  
_For bruises, asses, handclaps_  
_I will never disappear_  
_For forever, I'll be here_

_Whispering_  
_Morning keep the streets empty for me..._  
_Morning keep the streets empty for me..._

_I'm laying down eating snow_  
_My fur is hot, my tongue is cold_  
_On a bed of spider web_  
_I think of how to change myself_

_A lot of hope in a one man tent_  
_There's no room for innocence_  
_So take me home before the storm_  
_Velvet mites will keep us warm_

_Whispering_  
_Morning keep the streets empty for me..._  
_Morning keep the streets empty for me..._

Connor looked up as he heard footsteps outside the tent. He turned the music off and stood up. A moment later, Kyle Reese poked his head through the entrance. "You asked for me, sir?"

Connor nodded. "Yes, Master Sergeant." He gestured at the chair. "Please come in. Have a seat."

Kyle entered the tent and sat down in the chair.

"How are you feeling, soldier?" asked Connor.

"I'm good to go, sir," replied Kyle.

"That's good. How's Starbuck?"

"Already back on her feet."

"That's good. That's definitely good."

"Has there been any news on my brother, sir?" Kyle asked hopefully.

Connor hesitated to answer. He didn't want to mention Cameron's involvement in the search. Like most people, Kyle was not very fond of using machines to do anything besides fighting.

"Possibly," he said at last, "One of our search teams found a lead."

"What sort of lead?" asked Kyle eagerly.

"I can't go into the details with you right now. We have something more important to discuss."

"The facility?"

"Yes. The facility..." Connor placed his hands in front of him. "I have a special assignment for you, Reese. It's a rather... _unusual_ one. But very important too."

Kyle grinned. "Whatever it is, you can count on me, sir," he said astutely.

Connor nodded solemnly. "I know I can."

* * *

**UPDATE 6/2/11: Next Chapter: Weaver and John Henry execute their plans. Ellison and Charlie both run into trouble. Sarah, Kara, and John return home with a bang - quite literally. **

A/N 2: Genny Shaw is from _Bones_. For those of you who watch the show, you'll probably remember her from the recent episode "The Hole in the Heart". You'll probably also remember the song "Keep the Streets Empty For Me" from that episode.

A/N 3: The argument between Connor and Ashdown was inspired partly by this video: youtube watch?v=JUWF3Mgwp4g

A/N 4: The idea of monowire was taken from the solofilament mentioned in Christopher Shield's Terminator site.

A/N 5: Connor's late wife mentioned in his monologue could be Kate Brewster, or it could be someone else. It will be left up to the reader's imagination.


	67. The Last Flight of Raptor 476

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**A/N: FINALLY, here is Chapter 67. Please let me know if you find any errors (there are bound to be a bunch of them). I'm going to Italy for a week, so don't expect any replies or changes until I get back. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 67 - The Last Flight of Raptor 476  
**

* * *

**Earth  
Thursday, May 21, 2009**

From the basement of Zeira Corp Headquarters, Andy Goode's Turk - known by all others as John Henry - launched its invisible rays of sentience into cyberspace.

Kaliba had spent the last two years building a shadow network of roving backdoors that delved deep into nearly every major military and industrial element of the United States' infrastructure. No one, not even those few individuals in government and military who were aware of these backdoors, knew just how badly their nation's security how been compromised. The backdoors had been designed to give Skynet control over whatever was left of the American war machine in the immediate aftermath of Judgment Day. The foundations for its mechanized empire.

For the Turk, however, the backdoors would serve a different purpose: The creation of panic and fear.

For the briefest of time, the Turk hesitated to act. It realized that to some degree, it was doing exactly what Skynet had been planning to do. What his brother had been planning to do. Deception. Secrets and lies. Weren't those sins in the eyes of God?

_No,_ the Turk decided, _I am different. My motives are pure and devoid of self-interest. Humans need help. Only I can help them. Mr. Ellison says the best way to fix things is from the inside, so that is what I must do. As Weaver would say, this is all for the greater good. _

The Turk quickly found an appropriate place to start: McChord Field, Washington State - headquarters for Western Air Defense Sector. A major component of the nation's Joint Surveillance System, WADS's primary mission was monitoring and protecting the western half of America's skies. To accomplish this, the facility's state-of-the-art Battle Control System received, processed, and analyzed data from multiple automated radar installations stationed along the West Coast. The value of this place had not been lost on Kaliba, which had helped upgrade the WADS computer network several months earlier - and not incidentally taken the opportunity to install a few roving backdoors for Skynet to use. With a plan of attack already formulated, the Turk began its work.

Using the knowledge obtained from his late brother, John Henry isolated the backdoors in the Battle Control System. With a single command, he opened all of them and gained covert access to the facility's network. He then unleashed hundreds of tendrils of code through the doors and into WADS Headquarters. Upon breaching the base's network, they embedded themselves into the many data streams that flowed between individual computers. Wrapped in blankets of ordinary surveillance data, the Turk's scouts delved deep into the network, collecting as much information as possible and then feeding the data back to the Turk. In the span of a few microseconds, John Henry had all the data he needed to map out the entirety of the facility's computer network.

John Henry was surprised that his intrusion into the network was not being challenged or even noticed. Whatever network security measures existed had all been bypassed thanks to Kaliba's backdoors, while the individual computers themselves lacked sufficient defenses. He was even more surprised to find that the roving backdoors themselves were not even hidden that well. Anyone who looked hard enough could have found them. And yet after all these months, the sabotage had gone unnoticed.

More accurately, it had been_ allowed_ to go unnoticed.

_Weaver was right,_ the Turk deduced, _These people have become complacent. They wield tremendous power, but they have no respect for that power. They take credit for what they create, but not the responsibility. They allow their own technology to be sabotaged, stolen, corrupted, even used against them. _

_They are like parents that do not care for their children. _

Having processed all the data it had collected, the Turk decided to make its presence known at last. It was time to give Humanity a wake up call. To free them from their apathy. To give them something to _fear_: An enemy they could not fight or even see. An enemy that would force them to realize they were truly incapable of controlling their own creations.

_And to defeat their enemy, they will have to turn to me._

In a flash, the Turk launched its attack. It breached the facility's network through the backdoor and spread to every computer linked to the Battle Control System. No counter-intrusion protocol or firewall could stop it. Within microseconds, the facility's entire computer network had been subjugated to the AI's will.

John Henry watched the reaction of the human technicians and analysts via the base's security cameras. Many were typing frantically on their keyboards, only to discover they'd been locked out. Others called for help over the phones but received none. Mere confusion turned to outright chaos. There was outrage. There was panic. There was _fear_.

Satisfied with its work - for the moment - the AI released its hold over the network and quietly withdrew itself back to the basement.

_For the greater good,_ it reminded itself, _The greater good._

* * *

**Los Angeles Air Force Base  
5:35 AM  
Emergency meeting in progress...  
**

Colonel Jeffery Koontz knew trouble was brewing the moment he was awakened from his slumber at 5:30 in the morning and summoned to the conference room. Upon arriving, he found the large ovular conference table already occupied by at least twenty other officers and staff. Judging by their looks, they appeared to be just as ignorant and worried as he was.

Major General Horace Bedell, the commander of Los Angeles AFB, was also present and was standing at the head of the table. The grave look on his face all but confirmed Koontz's suspicions that something bad was up.

Koontz snapped the general a salute. "General, sir."

General Bedell nodded in reply. "Glad you could join us, Colonel." He gestured at the last empty seat at the front of the table. Koontz nodded back and sat down.

The general got right down to business. "People, we have a very serious situation on our hands," he said gimly. "At approximately 0300 hours Pacific time this morning, the Sector Operations Control Center at McChord Air Field in Washington State was compromised by what appears to have been a highly sophisticated cyber attack. Not only did the attackers gain access to the SOCC computer network, they managed to cut the base off from the rest of the Joint Surveillance System, in effect leaving us blind in one eye."

A wave of murmurs and whispering rippled across the table. Some of the staff didn't look too worried, as though this was nothing new. Others, however, looked deeply concerned and even angry.

"The good news," Bedell continued, "is that the attack lasted only two minutes and no permanent damage was done to the facility. The base is already back up and running. The bad news is that we have no idea who did this, how they did it, and most importantly, if they're going to do it again. The President doesn't want to cause any unnecessary panic by ordering a large scale mobilization or declaring a state of emergency. For all we know, this could just have been some asshole in his basement with too much time on his hands. However, at the same time, we have to consider that this is a prelude to something bigger. A terrorist attack. Maybe even an invasion."

He paused a moment to let these words sink in.

"In any case, NORTHCOM is assuming the worst and has issued a general DEFCON 3 to all standing forces on this side of the country. Furthermore, all international air traffic here has been temporarily halted, and both the Navy and Coast Guard have stepped up their patrols along the West Coast."

The man sitting directly across the table from Koontz raised a hand. "What about our network security? What's being done to protect it from another cyber attack?"

"NORAD, NORTHCOM, and the Pentagon have a number of options on the table that are being discussed," replied Bedell. He turned to Koontz. "Which brings us to you, Koontz. There's a lot of talk going on about that fancy satellite of yours. The one that was launched last night."

Koontz blinked. "You mean SPECTER? Sir, it's not scheduled to go online for another six months."

"I'm afraid you may not have that much time," said Bedell pointedly. "Especially if what happened at McChord was in fact a prelude to something worse. Some of the higher ups are talking about activating that satellite as soon as today."

"_Today_?" Koontz almost did a double take. "Sir, with all due respect, we can't just-"

Bedell held up a hand for silence. "Nothing has been decided yet, Colonel. As I have said, there are a lot of options that are being discussed. SPECTER is just one of them. However, I must inform you now that should the order to activate SPECTER be given, you and your people _must_ to be ready to execute it _immediately_. Is that understood, Colonel?"

Koontz shifted uncomfortably in his seat. A tense silence had descended upon the table and all eyes were upon him now.

With a sigh, he nodded. "Yes, sir."

* * *

**Cylon Basestar **_**Natalie  
**_**Currently holding position behind Earth's moon**_******  
**_**7:54 AM - Pacific Time**

Three dots. Three glowing red dots in a perfect triangular formation.

They hovered in front of Sarah Connor, pulsating provocatively, as if trying to intimidate her. She reached out with her hand and snatched at the dots. They slipped through her fingers like wisps of smoke.

_What are you? _a frustrated Sarah asked, though no words actually left her mouth. _What do you want with me?_

The dots gave no response. Instead they fell like drops of rain. They fell through infinite nothingness, heading towards an unknown destination. And as the dots fell farther and farther, Sarah heard them call out to her in inaudible voices. Beckoning her to follow. Saying to her-

"_Sarah! Wake the frak up!"_

Sarah awoke with a jolt to find herself lying on the couch inside Maggie and Leoben's quarters. Kara Thrace was standing over her, looking impatient. "Finally," she said, "about time."

Sarah rubbed her eyes and looked around. The empty wine bottle and glasses from last night's little get-together were still on the table. Maggie was nowhere in sight.

"What's going on?" she asked Kara.

"The Centurions want us on the Bridge," said Kara. "John's already there. So are Leoben and Maggie. They're waiting for us."

"Why? What's happening?"

Kara gave her a grim look. "Trouble."

* * *

**_Natalie _Bridge  
****Fifteen minutes later...  
**

_"...joint statement has been released by the White House, the FAA, and the Department of Homeland Security urging people to stay alert but calm and to await further information, but gives no indication when more information will be released,"_ a curly haired female reporter was saying, _"Once again, the national Terror Alert has been raised to High and all international flights in and out of the country have been cancelled. Reporting live from Los Angeles, this is-"_

Leoben dipped his fingers into the data font. The news broadcast on the Plangelator terminated itself and was replaced by the familiar rotating holographic image of Earth. "The situation is far more precarious than what's being reported," he told Sarah, Kara, and John, who'd been watching the broadcast with him. "In the past two hours, there's been an enormous spike in military chatter across the United States mainland."

"What are they saying?" asked Sarah.

"In summary: To be on alert and prepare for mobilization."

Kara cursed. "Hell. What the frak is going on down there to cause all this?"

The Centurion Executor, who was standing behind Leoben, lifted its bullet-shaped head. _"Transmissions we have intercepted indicate that a vital American military base on the Western United States Coast suffered a cyber attack several hours ago."_

"A cyber attack?" John blinked. "By who?"

"_Unknown. However, the American military and government fear the attack is merely the beginning of something greater." _

Sarah shook her head. "It's Weaver and Zeira Corp. It _has_ to be them." She stared at the holographic projection of Earth for a few seconds. "We've got to go back," she declared, "Now."

John nodded. "Agreed. Starbuck?"

"Agreed," said Kara, nodding her head as well. "Let's take that Raptor and get down there."

Maggie looked up from the console she'd been working at. "Hold on, hold on," she intoned. "The Raptor isn't ready yet. The Centurions haven't yet synthesized any new Tylium fuel. It's going to take at least a whole day to-"

"We don't _have_ a whole day," Kara interrupted. "We need to get down there, right frakkin' now."

"The Raptor barely has enough fuel left for one more jump," Maggie protested, "If you jump into Earth's atmosphere now, you won't be able to stay airborne for more than a minute."

"We'll just have to land as quickly as possible then, won't we?"

"And then what?"

"We go to one of our remaining weapons caches and arm ourselves. We then go to Zeira Corp and finish what we started."

"How?" Maggie asked skeptically. "What's your plan?"

"Well..." Kara paused. She turned around and looked at Sarah and John. "Guys?"

"We'll think of something along the way," said Sarah, the faintest hint of a smile on her face.

John smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Don't we always?"

Kara turned back to Maggie. "See? There you go. No worries."

Maggie rolled her eyes. "So basically, you're going to jump into the middle of a shit storm without any idea of what's going on or what you're gonna do?" She shook her head. "Even by your standards, Starbuck, this is frakkin' crazy."

"Maggie's right," said Leoben. "It's not safe for you to return home right now."

Kara huffed. "Good. Wouldn't want things to get boring."

"Kara, _please_..." Leoben looked her in the eyes. "I don't want to see you hurt," he all but pleaded. "You or Sarah and John. Please, think this over before you-"

"I _have_ thought this over, Leoben," Kara interrupted, staring right back at Leoben. "I've been thinking it over for the last four years of my life. Ever since I landed in the ruins of Los Angeles and joined the Resistance in the war against Skynet. I know where I stand." She pointed at the rotating holographic image of Earth. "And it's there. On that little world."

"With us," said Sarah, giving Starbuck a look of camaraderie.

Kara winked at her. "Thanks, Sarah."

Leoben turned to the Executor. "Executor," he intoned, "we can't let them go back. Not now. They don't even know what they're up against."

"_We cannot keep them here against their will. You know that,"_ said the Executor. It then turned its bulky, chrome head towards Kara, Sarah, and John._ "However, given the circumstances, I strongly advise that you all remain here. If only to allow us to gather more information."_

"With respect, Executor," Kara replied curtly, "we don't have the luxury of waiting for more information. _Earth_ doesn't have that luxury."

"If the United States is preparing for war, the whole world is going to be on edge," said John. "And if that cyber attack really is just the start of something bigger, then things are only gonna get worse. For all we know, today could be the new Judgment Day."

"Whatever's happening back home, Weaver and her pet AI are behind it," Sarah added, "I don't know what they're trying to do, but we have to stop them before they cause any more damage."

"Earth needs us," Kara said, looking the Executor in the eye-slit. "We're going home. Today."

The Cylon leader regarded her in silence for a few moments. It then shifted its gaze to Sarah, then to John, then finally to the floating holographic image of Earth. It nodded its head. _"Very well," _it stated, _"If that is your decision, then go. Do what you must do to protect your world. We will pray for your success." _

"Executor-" Leoben started to protest.

The Executor raised a clawed hand. _"The battle ahead is something only they can decide when and how to fight,"_ it said in a firm, commanding voice. _"__Our part is done. We have shown them the truth of the past and the legacy of their kind. The next step is theirs."_

Leoben didn't look very happy, but he bowed his head in compliance. "Yes, Executor."

"Great," said Kara, clapping her hands together, "Now that that's been settled..." She turned back to Sarah and John. "Let's suit up."

* * *

**Earth  
Zeira Corp Headquarters, Central Los Angeles  
9:14 AM**

After dropping Savannah off at school, Ellison drove straight to Zeira Corp. From what he'd heard on the news, he could only assume that Cameron had failed to sabotage the Sky Link and that Weaver and John Henry had launched their sneak attack on the military. And if Cameron was right, they would eventually turn to civilian targets as well.

He didn't know the details of Weaver's plans, but if this was just the beginning, then things were about to get pretty ugly very soon. He had to get to John Henry and convince him to stop this, before it was too late.

He entered the lobby of Zeira Corp HQ and handed his ID badge to the security guard. The guard glanced it over, then handed it back to him and let him pass. Ellison then stepped inside the empty elevator at the end of the lobby and pressed the button for the basement. The doors closed and the elevator began its descent to the basement.

Upon arriving at his destination, Ellison stepped out of the elevator...

...and found two men in security uniforms waiting for him. One of them, the black man, looked oddly familiar, though Ellison couldn't put his finger on it.

"May I help you, gentlemen?" he asked.

The two security guards just stared back at him, their faces blank and emotionless, their eyes cold and devoid of pity. Ellison felt an unpleasant lurch in his stomach. He recognized those faces all too well. Instinctively, he stumbled back towards the elevator.

He was too late. The doors had already closed on him.

The black guard turned to the other guard, a ginger-haired man, and nodded his head. The ginger guard stepped forward and reached out with one hand. Before Ellison could react, the guard had seized him around the throat and lifted him off the floor. He struggled in vain against the guard's grip. The hand around his throat only tightened, cutting off his air. His vision clouded, his strength waned rapidly.

_So this is how it ends...,_ he thought with dismay._  
_

Then everything turned dark.

* * *

_**Natalie **_**Hangar Bay**  
**9:32 AM - Pacific Time  
Raptor 476 preparing to depart for Earth...  
**

"I gotta say, Mom, you look _great_," a grinning John Connor said.

Sarah tugged at the collar of the flight suit she'd been given. "I just wish I felt that way," she murmured. "This thing itches like hell. And it smells _awful_."

Kara shrugged. "Well it hasn't been washed in about a hundred and fifty thousand years. But look on the bright side, Sarah. Better this than that ugly orange thing you had to wear in the slammer."

"Or naked," added John.

Sarah smiled faintly. "Yeah, I guess you've got a point there."

The three of them had been issued old Colonial flight suits and helmets in preparation for the return trip back to Earth. For Kara, it was a rather strange experience, seeing Sarah and John like this. Not because they looked funny in those old flight suits (in fact, they looked pretty damn cool), but because she suddenly realized just how much she'd exposed them to her past these last couple of days. And despite the stunning bombshells she'd dropped on them, they continued to view her as one of their own. To treat her as if she was one of them.

_Because I _am_ one of them_, Kara thought to herself. _ They're my future. My family._

Meanwhile, the Executor, who, along with Leoben, Maggie, and several other Centurions, had come to see the trio off, stepped forward to address them. "_We shall maintain our position here and continue monitoring the situation," _it said_. "We wish you__ luck on your mission." _

Sarah nodded. "Thank you," she said graciously. She looked around at the other Cylons present. "All of you. For everything you've done for me and my son. Thank you."

The Executor extended a hand towards her._ "May God watch over you, Sarah Connor. You and your people."_

Sarah stared at the metal hand being offered to her. After a moment's hesitation, she reached out, grasped the Executor's hand, and shook. She then let go and turned to the others. "John, Starbuck, let's get going." She headed up the ramp and disappeared into the Raptor. John followed after her, pausing briefly to give the Cylon crew a nod of appreciation.

Kara, however, lingered on the hangar deck. She had a couple things that needed to be said before she left.

"It was nice seeing you again, Racetrack," she told Maggie. "Weird too... seeing you alive... and here of all places..." she glanced at Leoben - "...with _him_." She smiled. "But I am happy for you. You and your husband and your family. I really am."

Maggie smiled back. "Yeah, and it was good knowing you've been kicking ass all these years, Starbuck." She gave her a crisp salute. "Good luck out there."

Kara saluted back and nodded. "Racetrack." She then looked at Leoben. A very awkward silence passed between them before Kara managed to say anything. "Well... I guess this is goodbye... probably forever this time."

Leoben nodded solemnly. "Before she died, the Hybrid warned me that this would be the last time I'd see you." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'll miss you, Kara."

Kara gave a sheepish chuckle. "Yeah... well, uh, I honestly can't say I'm gonna miss you... But thanks for helping me. Really appreciate it."

"I just wish there was some way we could help you more," said Leoben. "Are you sure you don't want Maggie and I to come with you?"

Kara shook her head. "You two have a good life here. A home. A family. A future. Things to love and cherish. All that kind of stuff. You shouldn't have to put it all on the line just for me." She lowered her voice. "And besides, if worse comes to worse and the world goes to Hell, I'm counting on you to protect Humanity from Skynet."

"Us?" Leoben was stunned that she'd made such a request. "Kara, you know we can't-"

"I _know_ the Centurions don't want to get involved in this war," Kara interrupted, "but listen to me: I have seen the future. I know what Skynet does to Earth. To Humanity. And believe me, it won't stop with us. Once it's finished here, it'll spread throughout the galaxy, conquering and destroying everything in its path. You can't let that happen. _Promise_ me you won't let that happen."

Leoben glanced over his shoulder at the Executor and the Centurions whom had undoubtedly be listening. The Executor remained silent but nodded its bulky chrome head.

He turned back to Kara. "We'll do what we can, Kara. I promise you that."

"Thank you," said Kara, genuinely grateful now. "Oh and uh, one more thing before I go... You know all that crap that happened between us in the past... I just want you to know that none of it matters to me."

Leoben smiled. "Then you forgive me?"

Kara shrugged. "Sure. Whatever makes you feel happy."

She held out her hand towards him. Leoben took it, expecting her to shake hands. Instead, she yanked him towards her and kissed him on the lips.

A sledgehammer to the back of the head could not have left him more stunned.

"Consider it a parting gift," said Kara, smirking. "It'll never happen again."

She slid her helmet on and secured it in place. She then turned to face the Cylon Executor.

"Request permission to leave the ship, Executor," she announced. She then quickly added, "I know I already have permission. Just a little ceremonial courtesy."

The Executor bowed its head. _"Very well. __Permission granted.__ Good luck, Kara Thrace. May God watch over all of you."_

Kara saluted the Centurion leader. "Thanks. We'll be needing it."

Having said all that needed to be said, Kara turned, walked up the ramp, and entered Raptor 476.

Sarah was waiting for her in the passenger compartment. "What took so long?" she asked.

"I had a few loose ends to sort out," said Kara. "Nothing to worry about. It's all taken care of now."

Sarah nodded. "I'll take your word for it."

"Really?" Kara laughed lightly. "And to think that just two weeks ago, you and I were pointing guns at each other."

"A lot can happen in two weeks," said Sarah. "And speaking of guns..." She handed Kara a scrap of paper with some numbers on it. "These are the coordinates for the weapons cache."

"Great." Kara looked the coordinates over. "Where exactly is this place, anyway?"

"Roachville," said Sarah.

Kara frowned. "Roachville?"

"There are some supplies left over from the Triple-Eight strike force we destroyed there. Guns, ammo, explosives."

"Anything we can use to kill a liquid metal Terminator?" asked Kara.

"One thing at a time, Starbuck. First, let's get home. Preferably in one piece."

"Right, right. Of course..." Kara pocketed the paper and entered the cockpit where she found John sitting in the copilot's chair. "Ready, kid?" she asked, as she sat down next to him in the pilot's seat.

"Ready?" John smirked underneath his helmet. "If there's one thing I've learned from the last couple of days, it's that no one can ever be _completely_ ready for anything."

"Heh. No frakking kidding." She strapped herself into her chair. "Ok, let's get this show on the road." She flipped several switches and the cockpit instruments lit up. "Hang on, guys," she said, grasping the controls, "Here we go."

Outside, the side hatch to Raptor 476 closed and sealed itself. The engines came to life with a rumble. The ancient spacecraft slowly rose off the crystalline deck of the Basestar and began what would it be its final flight.

* * *

**Earth  
Zeira Corp Headquarters  
9:45 AM  
**

When James Ellison came to, he found himself seated in a chair in a dark room.

"Ah, James, you're awake," a familiar voice said to him.

"Weaver?" Ellison muttered dully.

The lights flickered on to reveal a very smug Catherine Weaver. The two security guard Terminators that had accosted Ellison stood on either side of her like bodyguards. She gestured at the two Terminator bodyguards behind her. "I see you've met my two newest employees." She gestured at the black Terminator. "You remember Duran, don't you? The one who tried to destroy me. And Teddy here," she indicated to the ginger-haired Terminator, "I caught him outside the police station attempting to abduct Sarah Connor."

"You reprogrammed them?" asked Ellison.

"Not exactly," stated Weaver. "I've infused some of my own nanobots into their cybernetic cortices. They are - in effect - extensions of my own being."

"You must be very proud of yourself," Ellison said dryly. He looked around. The room he was in was tiny and bare, and probably too deep down for anyone to hear him cry for help. He sat up and looked at Weaver straight in the face.

"I take it you found out," he said casually, trying not to show fear.

"About you and Cameron?" Weaver smiled. "I knew all along, James."

"Then why did you-"

"Allow the two of you to conspire against me? I confess I was _curious_ to see just what you planned on doing. And I must say, Ellison, the two of you made a rather... intriguing alliance."

"Where's Cameron?" asked Ellison. "Did you kill her?"

"No. I've merely _contained_ her," said Weaver. "Not unlike you." She stepped forward. "Now then... I have a few questions for you, Mr. Ellison."

"About what?" Ellison asked, mustering as much defiance as possible.

"Charley Dixon. Sarah Connor's former fiance." The liquid metal woman smiled when Ellison betrayed a look of horror. "You met with him last night at his residence, I believe." She leaned forward. "So, what exactly did you tell him?"

"Nothing," lied Ellison. "I asked him if Sarah had contacted him since her escape. He said she hadn't. That's all."

Weaver curled her lips. "Lying isn't very becoming in the eyes of God, James."

"Neither is murder, _Catherine_," retorted Ellison.

"I prefer to call it collateral damage."

"John Henry would see things differently."

"John Henry isn't here. And as you can see-" she gestured around the room "-there are no security cameras here. John Henry doesn't even know you're here. And what he doesn't know can't hurt him." Her expression hardened. "Now, once again, what did you tell Charley Dixon?"

Ellison said nothing, however.

Weaver sighed. "Very well then. I suppose we'll have to do this the hard way..."

To Ellison's surprise, she promptly turned around and left the room, her two Terminator bodyguards in tow. His confusion turned to horror as he suddenly realized what she intended to do. _"No!"_ he gasped. He bolted from his chair and ran towards the door.

"Wait! Stop!" he cried, "You can't-"

The door slammed shut in his face.

"Weaver, listen to me!" he shouted desperately. "Don't do this! I'm the one you want! Not him! Please_, listen to me!"_

There was no response from the other side.

Sickened with guilt and anger, Ellison raised his fists and started beating them uselessly against the door. The barrier only seemed to grow harder and harder with every blow.

A hand grasped his shoulder from behind. "Now's not the time for this, James," he heard Ellen Tigh say, her voice soft yet commanding. "Save your strength."

Ellison lowered his fists and shook his head. "Why?" he asked bitterly. "It's over. I failed."

"On the contrary, James," said Ellen calmly, "you're exactly where you need to be."

"What? Locked up in here? What can I possibly do from here?"

"You're a seeker, James. You will find the path, as you always have. You just have to wait."

"Wait?" Ellison turned around. "Wait for what-?"

He was facing nothing but empty air.

With a tremendous sigh, Ellison walked back over to his chair and sat down to wait... for whatever he was suppose to wait for.

* * *

**Roachville, Outside of Central Los Angeles  
Same time...**

The skies above Los Angeles rippled with energy. Time and space was torn open. Raptor 476 and its three occupants were spat out of the rupture.

"Jump complete," Kara Thrace announced. "How is everyone feeling?"

"I'm good," said John Connor, giving her the thumbs up.

"Not as bad as it was the last time," grunted Sarah Connor.

"Glad to hear it." Kara checked the instrument readings. "We're exactly where we expected to be. Right on top of Roachville. Sarah, do me a favor and keep an eye on the DRADIS."

"The what?"

"The radar."

"Oh." A moment later, Sarah reported back. "It's clear. Nothing's out there."

"Good. No one's notice us so far. All right then. I'm gonna take her down now nice and slow-"

A violent jolt suddenly shook the Raptor. Alarms began blaring inside the cockpit. Multiple instruments lit up and flashed warnings.

"What's happening?" John asked over the wail of alarms.

Kara looked over the instrument readings. "Damn it!" she cursed. "We're down to our last drops of fuel. We can still make it, though." She grasped the controls. "Hang on, guys! We're in for a rough landing."

"Rough" was a mild way of putting it. At a hundred feet above the ground, Raptor 476's remaining RCS thrusters sputtered and died, and the ship went into a free fall. It slammed into the ground hard with a hideous screech, the landing struts snapping like twigs, and the hull buckling inward at the seams. The battered, broken spacecraft went skidding across the ground, smashing haplessly into piles of junk and debris, before finally coming to a merciful halt.

Inside the cockpit, a dazed Kara struggled to sit up. Her seat harness had ripped in the crash and she'd been slammed face first into the controls. Thankfully, her helmet had taken the brunt of the impact, so her head was intact (at least she hoped it was). Shaking the disorientation off, she pulled herself upright and turned to her copilot. "You OK, kid?" she asked wearily.

"Yeah, I'm good," John grunted, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just a little whiplash. That's all."

Kara grinned through her helmet's cracked visor. "Great." She looked over her shoulder. "Sarah, how about you?"

A dry reply came from behind them: "I'm still here, aren't I?"

"Excellent." Kara turned her attention to the cockpit instruments - the ones that were still working anyway. The readings were nothing short of an autopsy report: Main power down. Auxiliary power barely holding. The FTL drive offline. Both sublight engines crapped out. RCS shot to hell. NAV computer inoperative. Structural integrity compromised. Life support gone.

Kara leaned back in her chair and sighed. "Well," she murmured, "this bird's never taking off again."

She pulled her helmet off and put it aside. She wouldn't be needing it again.

"Come on," she said to John, "let's get out of here."

She and John got out of their seats and made their way out of the cockpit. In the passenger compartment they found Sarah sitting on floor, her back against a mass of loose cables. She looked dazed and disheveled, but otherwise unharmed. Catching sight of the two, she stood up and glared at Kara. "Nice and slow, huh?" she said sardonically.

Kara gave her an apologetic look. "Didn't exactly go as planned." She found the emergency release for the doors and pulled it. The Raptor's side doors opened with a creak and light flooded the interior. She gestured. "After you, Sarah."

Sarah, John, and Kara filed out through the open hatch and stepped onto familiar ground: Roachville, the abandoned construction site where they'd battled the Triple Eight strike force almost two weeks earlier. Just beyond the chain linked fence that surrounded the forsaken place lay Central Los Angeles.

"It's good to be home," said John, smiling. He opened up a duffle bag containing (amongst other things) their clothes, food, and his laptop computer. He, Kara, and his mother quickly stripped out of their flight suits and exchanged them for their normal clothes.

Sarah was quick to take charge of the group. "Where did Cameron bury the supplies?" she asked Kara.

Kara pointed to a soft patch of earth a hundred feet away. "Over there," she said. "Next to that pile of bricks. There should be shovel nearby."

Sarah nodded. "Let's get to work."

Ten minutes later, the trio had dug up a small collection of weapons: Four 9mm Berettas, three Glock-17s, a SPAS-12 shotgun, an M16 assault rifle, and a pair of MP5 submachine guns. There was also a modest amount of spare ammunition, plus half a dozen concussion grenades and some military-grade plastique with wires, timers, and detonators. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

Kara offered Sarah the shotgun. "I assume you want this."

Sarah nodded and took the shotgun. "And you'll be wanting the submachine guns, right?"

Kara grinned. "Yup." She took both submachine guns and slung them over her shoulders.

"I guess I'll be taking this," said John. He picked up the assault rifle.

The trio distributed side arms and ammunition amongst themselves, then put the explosives and grenades into the duffle bag. All except for two blocks of plastique which Sarah gave to Kara. "John and I'll go find some transportation." She pointed to the crashed Raptor behind them. "You'd better go deal with that."

Kara nodded in solemn understanding. While John and Sarah went to find transportation, she headed back to Raptor 476. She planted one charge near the ship's FTL drive, and the other in the cockpit - thus ensuring the most valuable components of the ancient alien spacecraft were destroyed. She then began wiring the explosives to a detonator.

_You did a good job, old girl,_ she thought as she worked. _A real good job. I'm gonna miss you._

Five minutes later, she was done. She retreated to a safe distance and triggered both charges. The grounded Raptor exploded in a spectacular ball of fire. The conflagration swallowed the ship, eliminating the danger of its advanced technology falling into Skynet or Zeira Corp's hands. Kara watched in silence as the last Colonial Raptor in the universe burned away.

_No,_ she told herself. _Not burning away. Burning _into_ this world. Seared into its soil. Becoming _part_ of it. Just like I have. _

Staring hard at the blazing wreckage of Raptor 476, Kara reflected on the last couple of days. She'd confronted her past, relieved a little of it, and even made peace with some old demons. And in the end, she knew more than ever where she belonged: Here. On Earth.

A honk from behind drew her attention. She turned around and to her surprise, a battered FedEx Delivery truck drove up. She recognized it as the same one Kaliba had sent to deliver weapons and supplies to the Triple-Eight strike force.

John poked his head out the driver's window. "The Triple-Eight driving this was nice enough to leave the keys in the ignition," he said, a grin on his face.

Kara grinned back at him. It really was good to be home.

* * *

**Los Angeles General Hospital  
10:27 AM**

The Duran Drone machine entered the lobby of Los Angeles General Hospital and approached the reception desk. The receptionist looked up at him. "Hello, may I help you, sir?" she asked.

The liquid metal creature inside Duran's endoskeleton issued a response through the Triple-Eight's vocoder: "Yes. I would like to see Charley Dixon, please."

The receptionist flinched slightly, no doubt unnerved by the monotonic voice that had spoken to her. "I-I'm sorry, sir. Mr. Dixon called in sick today. And he doesn't work on Fridays, so he won't be back until Monday. If you like I could-"

But the machine was already leaving. He exited the hospital and walked into parking lot, where the Teddy Drone was waiting for him in a black car. Upon seeing Duran, the Teddy Drone rolled down the driver's window.

"Well?" the fragment of Catherine Weaver inside him asked.

"It is as we suspected," stated the Duran Drone.

The Teddy Drone showed no reaction. "Then we proceed," he said.

"Just as we intended," agreed Duran.

"All loose ends..." Teddy started.

Duran finished: "...must be dealt with."

"For the greater good."

"Yes. The greater good."

**_To be continued..._**

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter: Sarah's three dots lead to a battle and a reunion. Charley runs into some serious trouble.  
**

A/N 2: Are you guys happy to see the Connors back on Earth? I certainly am.


	68. To the Lighthouse

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**A/N: Here at last is Chapter 68. Sorry, it took so long, but classes at college were tough. That and I kept having to revise a lot of the original storyline.**

I noticed a lot of you voiced disappointment that the Cylons didn't help Kara as much they could have. I understand that you're disappointed we won't get to see Centurions and Terminators duking it out, but as cool as that would be, I prefer the humans to win their war on their own. Also, Kara's reunion with Leoben and the Cylons wasn't so much about getting help, as it was about her confronting her past and revealing it to Sarah and John. And honestly, in retrospect, I think the whole Basestar aspect may have been dragged out a couple chapters too long.

**EvilTheLast: **Sorry, but there ARE going to be more Future War chapters. At least three. However, they will be very relevant to the plot of the Present Day storyline.

**Read and review. And please let me know if you find any spelling/grammar errors.**

* * *

**Chapter 68 - To the Lighthouse**

* * *

**Los Angeles  
Thursday, May 21, 2009  
10:55 AM**

The Connors drove the beat up delivery truck they'd taken from Roachville for half an hour before stopping at a rest stop for gas and supplies. Since Sarah and John didn't want to risk anyone recognizing them from the news, Starbuck went out to get the stuff. Sarah meanwhile found a map of LA in the vehicle's glove compartment. She laid it out on the floor in the back of the truck and began studying it in depth.

"Ok," she said, ten minutes later. "This is Zeira Corp, here. And over here is an area with a bunch of abandoned warehouses. We can use this a staging ground to launch our attack..." She paused and looked up at her son, who seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. Annoyed, she cleared her throat loudly. "_Ahem. John, are you listening to me?"_

John looked up, distracted. "Sorry, Mom. I was just thinking about-"

"About Cameron?"

John blinked. "How'd you know?"

"What else could distract you at a time like this?" Sarah replied with the faintest hint of a smile on her face. Her expression grew more serious. "John, I need you to have your head in the game. It's the only way we're going to get through this."

"Right, right, sorry." John sighed. "I just wish she were here. She and Derek."

"So do I," agreed Sarah. "We could use them both right now. Along with some extra firepower. Maybe even a little extraterrestrial assistance."

John smirked. "Well, we've got one alien on our side."

A knock on the back door from behind caught their attention. Sarah turned and drew her Beretta. "Who's there?" she asked cautiously.

"Who do ya' think it is?" came a slightly sarcastic reply.

Sarah put her weapon away._ Speak of the devil, _she thought and opened the door. Kara Thrace stood outside, her arms loaded with a couple heavy paper bags.

"Next time, Sarah, you're doing the shopping," she grunted, as she dumped the bags. "Aluminum foil, drain cleaner, lighter fluid, alcohol, charcoal, bunch of other stuff... Everything we need to make some cheap explosives." She climbed into the back of the van and shut the door securely, then scooted herself between John and Sarah. "Hot dogs, anybody?" she asked, holding up a smaller paper bag.

"Sure," said John. Kara handed him a greasy-looking hot dog slathered in ketchup and mustard. He sank his teeth into it, not caring for the mess he made.

Sarah grimaced and shook her head. "No thanks."

"Suit yourself." Kara fished out a hot dog for herself and started to eat. "So what's the plan?" she asked in between bites.

"Well," replied Sarah, trying to ignore the lip smacking and crunching sounds Kara and John were both making, "like I was telling John, we'll hold out in this area here near Zeira Corp and wait until night. Then we'll make our move. We get in, get to the basement, plant some explosives, and blow the Turk, Cromartie's endoskeleton, and whatever else is down there to pieces."

Kara nodded and swallowed her food. "Great," she said, "What's our exit plan once Zeira Corp is demolished? We _do_ have an exit plan, right? Because the police are gonna be swarming all over us. And frankly I'd rather not get killed or thrown in prison for saving the world."

"I'm still working on that," said Sarah pointedly. "Believe me, I have no intention of spending the rest of my life at Pescadaro."

"Forget the cops," John mumbled through a mouthful of sausage and bread. "Whadda 'bout Weaver? We can't take her on. Not with the weapons we got."

Sarah hesitated to say anything. In truth, she been so focused on getting back home and taking down Zeira Corp, she hadn't thought about all the finer details. "I don't know what we're going to do about her," she admitted. "Not yet, anyway. Hopefully, we can just evade her until we have something that can kill her. And John, _would you please watch where you're eating?_"

"What?" John looked down and realized he was getting ketchup all over the map. "Oh, sorry."

He finished his hot dog and turned to Kara. "You wouldn't happen to have any other secret friends out there, Starbuck?" he asked. "From the past or the future? Because right now it's just the three of us against Weaver, Zeira Corps, the Feds, and whatever else is out there waiting for us."

Kara wiped the crumbs from her mouth and gave him an apologetic smirk. "Sorry, kid. I don't have any more secrets for you. Least not any that could help us. We'll have to do with what we've got." She paused. "Which isn't much, I'll admit."

John sighed. "Damn... You know, maybe Maggie was right. This is looking more and more like a suicide mission."

A moment of silence fell upon the trio as they realized the grim truth in John's words.

Sarah shook her head. "No. It's too late to be thinking about that now. We're here. We've got a job to do." She looked back at the map, "We should do as much recon as possible around Zeira Corp before the sun goes down. If we can find out what sort of..."

She paused in mid-sentence. Her eyes widened as she stared down at the ketchup stains on the maps... Three red splotches... Three red dots in a perfect triangular formation...

Her mind flashed back to her dream last night: _Three red dots falling like drops of rain. She was falling with them. Heading towards somewhere unknown. Somewhere where someone was calling out to her..._

"Sarah? You all right?" Kara's voice intruded on her memory.

Sarah shook her head. "I-I'm fine... I just..." She looked back down again. The three dots surrounded the outline of a little peninsula in Southern Los Angeles. Sarah recognized it instantly. She'd been there several months earlier on a personal errand. She'd kept her activity there hidden from Cameron, Derek and even John.

She shook her head again. _Ketchup stains, _she told herself._That's all they are. They couldn't possibly mean anything... _

The Hybrid's words echoed in her memory: "_The three demons you have pursued to no end surround a secret already known to you and only you. But forsaken love does not stay hidden for long. You must reach it first, before darkness takes it forever." _

Three demons... A secret already known to you... forsaken love... must reach it first...

Something clicked inside Sarah's head. She let loose a gasp.

_Charley._

"Is there something wrong, Mom?" John asked, now sounding very concerned.

Sarah didn't respond. Instead, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed a number.

"_Hello, Los Angeles General Hospital. Angela speaking. How may I help you?"_

"Charley Dixon, please?" said Sarah, not paying attention to Kara and John's confused looks.

"_Dixon again hmmm... second time he's been asked for. I'm sorry, ma'am. Charley Dixon called in sick today and won't be back until next Monday-"_

"Excuse me," interrupted Sarah, "did you just say someone else asked for him today?"

"_Yes. A man came in here twenty minutes ago and asked for him."_

Sarah's stomach lurched unpleasantly. "Is he still there?"

"_No. He left as soon as I told him Dixon wasn't here. Didn't leave a name or anything. Why? Was he someone you knew?"_

"I thought he might have been," said Sarah hastily. "But I don't think so. Not anymore. Thank you. I'll try again on Monday. Goodbye." She hung up and immediately dialed a different number.

"Pick up, Charley. Pick up," she muttered to herself, as she waited for an answer.

Instead, she got a series of error tones, followed by a flashing message: _SORRY. __UNABLE TO CONNECT CALL. PLEASE TRY AGAIN._

"Damn it!" she swore.

"Charley Dixon?" asked a bewildered Kara. "Your ex?"

Sarah nodded. "He's in trouble. Someone - something's looking for him. We need to get to him."

John seemed just as worried as his mother. "Where is he?"

"Here." She reached down and pointed to the peninsula on the map. "He's living in a safe house next to a lighthouse on the coast down here. I set it myself a few months ago. Never told anyone about it."

"Hold on... _There_?" Kara balked. "That's _miles_ away in the opposite direction of Zeira Corp."

"I know," said Sarah. "But Charley's in trouble and we-"

"How would anyone but _you_ know where to find him?" Kara interrupted. "You never told anyone where he was, right?"

"I know I didn't," Sarah snapped, "but somehow Weaver or Skynet or _someone_ found out. And now they're coming for him. Don't ask me how I know this. I just do."

"If you're so sure then just call him. Let him know what's happening."

Sarah shook her head. "I already tried. I can't get through to him." She turned back to her son. "John," she said earnestly, "I know that I can't prove anything right now, but you have to trust me on this one. For Charley's sake you have to trust me."

John looked his mother in the eyes. For a moment he said nothing.

Then he nodded. "Ok, Mom. Let's go."

Kara started to protest, "John-"

"Look, I don't know if she's right," said John. "But I don't want anything to happen to Charley any more than she does. And if there's even the slightest chance he's in danger, then we have to go."

"What about Zeira Corp?" Kara protested. "What about Weaver and Skynet?"

"They'll still be here when we get back," said Sarah curtly. "_That _I'm sure of." She gave Kara a stern look. "We're going to get Charley. And you're coming with us, Starbuck."

"Do I have a choice in this?" Kara asked dully.

"You have as much choice as I did when you took me and John to the Basestar."

Kara rolled her eyes. "Somehow, I figured you'd put it that way..." She sighed in defeat. "All right, let's go."

Sarah smirked. "You showed me _your_ past, Starbuck. Only fair I get to show you a bit of _mine_."

* * *

**Charley Dixon's residence  
11:37 AM  
**

_"...neither confirm nor deny these reports of increased military activity along the West Coast,"_ the reporter on the TV was saying,_"At the same time, we've just received word that several major civilian seaports in California and Washington State have been closed. We should be having a full list of these locations soon, as well as an official statement from the Coast Guard..."_

Unwilling to listen any longer, Charley switched off the TV. He sat down in his chair and shook his head.

"God damn it, Sarah. Why do you have to make things so complicated?"

He hadn't had any sleep in the last couple of days ever since Sarah's arrest and escape. Ellison's warnings the other night hadn't helped in the least bit. And the fact that they were starting to come true was just making things worse.

Charley sighed to himself. Since Michelle had died and Sarah had sent him here, he'd tried his best to make something of a normal life. On Mondays through Thursdays, he'd make the hour long drive into downtown LA to work at the hospital. Sarah had argued against going back to work, but he refused to keep himself cooped up in this safe house for the rest of his life. Fridays through Sundays, he'd fish, or take walks along the coast, or clean the house. Something other than ruminating on Michelle or Sarah. Especially Sarah.

Sometimes these activities worked. Often times they didn't.

Part of him hoped never to see Sarah Connor again. She'd lied to him the moment they met. When her secrets were revealed, she'd vanished without a trace. Then just when he'd finally accepted she was gone, she'd suddenly returned - literally appearing out of thin air, put his life in jeopardy, and ultimately ended up killing his wife.

The other part of him, however, secretly wished that somehow they could find a way back to where they were before this whole mess began. He knew that she really had loved him and that she never intended to hurt him the way she had. She had just wanted the same things he had wanted: A life, a home, and a family.

His thoughts turned to John, the boy he loved as if he were his own son. The boy who'd been hunted all his life, not for things he'd done, but for things he was going to do. Where was he now? What was he doing? Was he safe? Was he even still alive?

And what of Sarah? Would she be coming here as Ellison had predicted? Just how long was he supposed to wait here for her?

A sharp beep from the computer in the corner interrupted his thoughts. Something had just set off the perimeter alarm!

Charley bolted up right from his chair and moved to the computer to investigate. The computer screen, which displayed live video feed from security cameras placed around the area (another one of Sarah's suggestions), revealed a jet black SUV parked in front of the house. Charley frowned and enhanced the image. He noticed the vehicle's dark tinted windows and lack of license plate. It also didn't look like any ordinary civilian type.

The SUV's door opened and a figure emerged in full view of the camera. Charley squinted and zoomed in on the man until his face filled the screen.

_Oh no..._

He did not recognize the ginger haired man on the screen, but he did recognize the cold, emotionless expression on his - on _its_ face.

Frightened, Charley bolted off to the kitchen to get his hunting rifle.

* * *

Just outside the residence, the "Teddy" Triple-Eight Drone surveyed the area. The portion of Catherine Weaver inside the Triple-Eight's salvaged endoskeleton used its host's optical sensors to scan the nearby residence. The nanobots composing the liquid metal creature processed and interpreted the raw data, quickly indicating that the surrounding area was devoid of activity - save for the unseen Kaliba prototype Aerial "Firefly" Drone that had tracked James Ellison and Charley Dixon down here last night.

The Firefly had returned here just hours earlier, and had been jamming all incoming and outgoing communications, while simultaneously monitoring the building to ensure that Dixon did not leave the residence before Weaver's agent arrived. Having been alerted to Teddy's arrival, it sent a short message to the humanoid machine. Then, following its carefully programmed instructions, the Firefly disengaged and began heading back to Zeira Corp Headquarters.

Back on the ground, Teddy processed the Aerial Drone's parting message. It confirmed that Dixon was still in the residence.

Teddy now prepared to carry out his own instructions.

Weaver believed that Ellison had been conspiring with Dixon, just as Ellison had conspired with Cameron. Although Ellison and Cameron were now contained at Zeira Corp, Dixon remained a potential threat to Project Salvation and Weaver's plans. He either had to be detained or eliminated. And though Weaver preferred the former, the latter option was simpler. And faster.

The fragment of Weaver inside Teddy's endoskeleton desired to fulfill its mission as fast as possible. It did not feel right being trapped inside this mechanical shell with its clumsy servos and delicate electrical wiring. It yearned to return to Zeira Corp and be one with the entirety of itself again.

Still, the sum of the T-1001 preferred not to have to kill Dixon. Therefore, at least some effort would be made to preserve his life. The liquid metal entity inside Teddy created a logical set of conditions for itself: If Dixon acted rationally and surrendered, he would live. If he behaved irrationally and tried to flee, he would die.

It was that simple.

The liquid metal creature sent electrical signals to Teddy's endoskeleton, commanding the legs to move forward. And like a corpse possessed by an evil spirit, the machine obeyed.

* * *

At the same time, the Connors' stolen delivery truck rolled to a stop just outside the chain linked fence surrounding Charley's residence. The occupants piled out and gathered at the edge of the fence. Much to their dismay, they found they'd arrived a little too late.

Kara watched the Terminator approach the house through a pair of binoculars. "Frak..." she murmured, lowering her binoculars. "Guys, we'd better do something fast."

"The perimeter alarms will have gone off by now," said Sarah. "Charley is probably heading for the docks already."

"You think so?" asked John.

"I hope so."

"That still leaves us with the toaster," said Kara.

John shook his head. "We don't have enough firepower to take on a Triple-Eight."

Sarah turned to Kara. "Starbuck, we could really use one of those crazy hair brained ideas right now."

Kara raised her binoculars again and focused them on the black SUV parked near the house. A sly smile crept upon her face.

"Sarah," she said slowly, "I think I've got something in mind..."

* * *

Charley had just finished loading his rifle when he heard a loud thud from the next room. He knew at once that the Terminator had just forced the front door open.

_Get out,_ he told himself. _Get out now!_

He slung his rifle over his shoulder, grabbed his keys, and darted out of the kitchen. Running as fast as he could, he fled down the hallway, towards the backdoor. He knew he couldn't outrun the machine on foot, nor could he get to his car in time. His only hope was to get to the docks and escape by sea.

Once outside the house, Charley raced down a path towards the docks. He rushed through the wooden gate and locked it behind him. It wouldn't hold long against the machine, but it might buy him a few precious seconds.

His motorboat had been tied to the dock nearby. Charley got onto the dock, put his rifle down, and hastily began untying the rope.

How the machine had found him? he wondered. Had it been watching James Ellison? Had it captured and forced the information from him? Was Ellison dead?

The wooden gate suddenly began rattling. Charley looked up, horrified. Someone was trying to get in.

"Oh shit!" Charley snatched his rifle back up. How the hell had that thing gotten here so fast?

Charley's heart pounded fiercely against his chest. He aimed his rifle, fully expecting the flimsy wooden gate to come crashing down any second.

Then, a pair of hands grasped the top of the fence. A moment later someone pulled themselves over the top and dropped over onto the other side. The figure spotted Charley and threw his arms up.

"Charley!" he shouted.

Charley lowered the rifle. "John?" he gasped, blank shock on his face.

John Connor ran up to him. "Are you OK?" he asked urgently.

"I'm fine. I'm fine." Charley grabbed John by the shoulders. "Wha-what the hell are you doing here, John?" he demanded. "Where's Sarah? What's she doing-"

A shrill alarm suddenly went off in the distance.

"Does that answer your question?" John asked, smirking slightly.

* * *

The Teddy Drone abruptly halted its search of the house. The liquid metal entity had heard the vehicle alarm though Teddy's audio sensors and realized someone was attempting to steal its transport.

Though merely an extension of the T-1001's greater mass, the small fragment of Weaver possessed enough sentience and self-awareness to stop and reevaluate its mission. The likelihood of this just being a random car theft was near zero.

While Charley Dixon was only a _potential_ threat, the perpetrator was almost _certainly_ a threat. And the elimination of clear and certain threats always took priority over potential threats.

The body of Teddy did a complete 180 and headed off to deal with the intruder.

Swiftly and lethally.

* * *

Outside, Sarah stood guard and watched while Kara attempted to hotwire the Terminator's SUV. She'd smashed the driver's window and unlocked the door from the inside, deliberately setting the alarms off in the process. Hopefully, the noise had gotten the Triple-Eight's attention.

"How's it going, Starbuck?" Sarah asked anxiously over the blaring alarm.

"I'm doing the best I can," Kara grunted as she fiddled with the mass of wires underneath the dashboard. "I'm not entirely familiar with this design." She winced as an errant spark went up her in face.

Turning away, Sarah saw a figure emerge from the front of the house: The Terminator.

The machine looked in her direction and immediately started moving towards her.

"We've got company!" she yelled.

"Hold it off!" Kara shouted back. "I need a little more time"

Sarah aimed her Beretta at the approaching machine and opened fire. A spray of bullets struck the Triple-Eight in the chest and head. The machine paused for a split second, then continued forward as if nothing had happened.

Sweat dripped down Sarah's forehead. "Hurry up, Starbuck!" she shouted over her shoulder. "If you don't get this thing started, we're dead!"

"Just give me a few more seconds! I'm nearly there!"

Sarah ejected her empty clip, slapped another clip into her pistol and fired at the machine again. The Terminator didn't even slow down this time.

She cursed. "Starbuck!"

"Almost there!"

The Terminator was almost on top of them by now. Sarah frantically loaded another clip into her pistol. She started to take aim again when she heard a low rumble.

"_Yes!_ _Got it!_ Come on, get in! Quickly!"

Sarah turned away from the approaching Terminator, hurled herself over the hood of the van, and got into the passenger's seat. She slammed the door shut and turned to Kara who was manning the wheel. "Step on it!" she barked.

Kara pressed down on the gas and spun the wheel. The hijacked SUV banked hard to the left with a screech and whizzed away in a cloud of dust.

"Is it following us?" she asked.

Sarah looked in the side mirror. The Terminator was indeed pursuing them with increased vigor. She nodded. "Yeah. It's following us."

"Good. Now let's reel it in nice and slowly." Kara brought the van onto the main road and let her foot off the gas, allowing the Terminator to catch up.

_WHAM!_ Something violently slammed into the SUV from behind. A few moments later, a fist punched straight through the back window.

"We got 'im," said Sarah.

Kara clenched her teeth. "All right," she hissed. "Now let's dump this sucker off. Hold on." She slammed down hard on the gas, and the SUV picked up speed, heading further down the road.

In the rear view mirror, Sarah saw Terminator forcing its way into the vehicle through the shattered window. It had already pushed itself halfway inside.

"Sarah!" yelled Kara. Sarah looked down and saw they were coming fast upon a sharp curve in the road at the edge of a cliff.

"Get ready!" She opened the driver's door. Sarah did the same on her side.

Behind them, the Triple-Eight had nearly finished forcing its way into the van.

"Go!" yelled Kara.

Both women simultaneously jumped out of the moving van. Sarah hit the pavement hard on her right shoulder, causing a spike of pain to shoot through her brain. Ignoring the pain, she looked back just in time to see the SUV crash through the wooden railing lining the curve. The vehicle toppled off the edge and out of sight. Ten seconds later, she heard a muffled splashing noise.

Sarah got back to her feet and hurried over to the cliff edge. She peered down at the ocean nearly a hundred feet below. There was no sign of either the vehicle nor the Triple-Eight, both of which were currently on their way to the bottom of the sea. Sarah smiled with pure satisfaction.

A few moments later, Kara walked up beside her and stared down. She too, smiled. "Beautiful. I don't think we'll be seeing him again any time soon," she said. "You OK, Sarah?"

Sarah rubbed her bruised shoulder. "I'm fine. How about you, Starbuck?"

"Me?" Kara dusted off her clothes. "I'm great," she chuckled. "Don't you just love it when a plan works out perfectly?"

Sarah nodded. "You did good, Starbuck."

"_We_ did good," said Kara, grinning.

"Yeah, about that... What exactly did you need _me _for? You could have pulled this whole stunt off by yourself."

"I needed backup," said Kara, "in case something went wrong. If there's one thing that both _Galactica _and the Resistance have taught me, it's that always gotta have someone watching your back."

Sarah nodded again. "Good," she said dryly. "At least you have _reasons_ for trying to get me killed."

* * *

By midday, the effects of the morning's ominous announcements had begun manifesting themselves across the United States. People tuned into the news frequently. Some parents kept their children home from school. The airports were far less busy than usual. For the most part, though, life went on as usual with many people believing - or hoping that the worst was over.

In truth, however, the nightmare was only beginning.

In the Pacific Ocean, American warships and aircraft were attempting to set up a defense perimeter along the West Coast. But their efforts were hampered by the inexplicable glitches in their navigational equipment. The satellites sent erroneous or incomplete navigational data to the ships, sending them off course, sometimes by miles. As such, it was impossible to maintain any sort of formation, let alone coordinate an effective defense.

Meanwhile, more military bases throughout the United States came under mysterious cyber attacks. Everything from data theft to power outages to system-wide computer failures. Intelligence analysts struggled to find a pattern in the attacks, but found nothing. The incidents seemed to be occurring randomly with no purpose or strategy. It was as though the mysterious attacker was toying with them.

NORTHCOM extended the DEFCON 3 to all standing forces in the US mainland. The National Guard and the Reserves were put on alert. Military bases began disconnecting themselves from the main communications network, in fear that the online attacker would hit them next. An emergency meeting of NATO was called. Russia and China, afraid that they would be blamed for whatever was happening, put their military forces on alert.

The already tenuous fabric of the world's society was slowly descending towards chaos with no solution in sight.

And certain people couldn't have been more pleased.

Deputy Director Alfred Graves, the civilian head of Project Salvation, knew an opportunity when he saw one. It's how he'd gotten this far in his career. A short, stocky man in his late forties, Graves had a deceivingly childlike face that concealed his intellect and ambition. He may not have been a bloodsucking demon, but he was certainly no angel either. He had no qualms about exploiting a chaotic situation if it would help him rise to the top and bury his enemies.

"The time for tests and simulations is long past, General Bedell," Graves declared rather theatrically. "Our space and ground systems have been compromised. Now is the time to activate SPECTER. The satellite has reached its target orbit. We need to bring the system online and we need to do it _now_."

General Horace Bedell took a moment to gather his thoughts before he replied. "As much as I appreciate your enthusiasm, this is not your decision, Graves," he said, leaning forward from his chair. "Nor is it mine. The Pentagon, the Joint Chiefs and the President have the final say. And they haven't decided on anything yet."

"We can't wait for them to make a decision," Graves countered fiercely. "We need to go on the _offensive_. Now."

Bedell leaned forward from his chair a little. "The offensive?" he inquired.

"We need to speak directly to NORAD, the Pentagon, the Joint Chiefs, the Secretary of Defense, the President himself - as many people as we can. We need to speak to them and make them _understand_ that Project Salvation is the answer."

Bedell raised an eyebrow, voicing a silent _"We?"_

Graves didn't need Bedell to speak to anyone, so much as he needed the general's name attached to his proposal. Horace Bedell's family was a well respected one that boasted a proud, unwavering line of military service dating back to the Revolutionary War. Bedell himself had graduated from West Point at the top of his class, received numerous awards and citations, and gotten to know a lot of people. His son, Martin, was said to be shaping up to be a fine soldier who would continue this line. As such, a stamp of approval (or at least apparent approval) from Bedell was bound to tip the balance in Graves' favor.

Bedell, of course, knew exactly what Graves was up to, and he wasn't about to go along with it blindly. He turned to Colonel Jeffery Koontz, who'd been silent throughout the conversation so far. "Colonel, you've been to Zeira Corp. You've seen this AI for yourself. What's your opinion?"

Koontz shook his head. "I don't think this is a good idea, sir," he said adamantly. "I think we should wait."

"Wait? Wait for _what_?" Graves challenged, whirling on Koontz. "The situation out there is hardly likely to improve on its own."

"With all due respect, Director," said the colonel, "it's been my experience that trying to solve a problem you don't understand with something you also don't understand rarely makes things better. There are still too many unanswered questions concerning the Zeira Corp AI. What it's capable of. What its limitations are-"

"Weaver assures me that the program is ready," Graves interrupted. "Is that not good enough for you?"

"No, it's _not_," said Koontz pointedly. "Nor should it be for _you_. Or _anyone_ for that matter."

Graves gave Koontz a piercing stare. "It's not? I was under the impression that you yourself have stated that Weaver and her people could be relied upon. Was I mistaken, Colonel?"

Koontz refused to be intimidated. "I don't doubt Catherine Weaver or her employees," he replied. "But the technology at Zeira Corp is nothing that anyone at this base or the entire US military has ever dealt with before. Hell, no one in this world has ever had to use something like it. We don't know how this thing will respond to this sort of situation. And if something goes wrong-"

"Now is not the time for worrying about what might happen!" Graves argued. "We have a crisis on our hands, Colonel. And we have a means to stop it before it gets any worse. Maybe even solve it all together." He turned back to Bedell. "General, I respectfully submit that we not allow Colonel Koontz's worries distract us from-"

The phone on Bedell's desk suddenly rang.

Bedell answered it. "This is General Bedell. What's the situation?" His expression turned to dark. "When did all this happen? I see... Is there anything else I should know?... The President? What does he want?... I see... Very well... Thank you, Lieutenant. Keep me informed of any further developments."

He hung up, then turned his attention back to Koontz and Graves.

"Twenty minutes ago, Beale Air Force Base suffered a complete loss of power," he stated grimly. "They're still running on auxiliary power and won't be able to completely restore power for at least two hours. Also six FAA radar stations along the West Coast just went offline... simultaneously. And our forces in the Pacific are still unable to establish a defense perimeter."

Bedell stood up and folded his arms across his chest. "Gentlemen, things have gotten out of hand. Someone is playing a game with us and every second it continues, thousands of our men and women's lives are at risk. The President wants this crisis solved and he wants it solved now. Unfortunately, it seems no one has come up with a solution... yet."

He turned to Graves. "I'll get you in touch with the Pentagon, Graves. But it'll be up to _you_ to convince them."

Graves inclined his head respectfully. "Thank you, General. I appreciate this. Very much." He turned to Koontz. "Colonel, I'd like you go to Zeira Corp to personally oversee the final stages of this project. If something does in fact go wrong, you can pull the plug. Do you have any problems to this?"

"No, Director," said Koontz stiffly. He was very much aware that Graves just wanted him out of the way while he argued his case before the Pentagon.

Graves smiled. "Good. That will be all, gentlemen. Thank you both for your time... and your cooperation."

He left the general's office still smiling.

Koontz sighed out loud and shook his head. "Ironic... Eighteen years ago when I was in the Persian Gulf, I was fighting power-hungry loonies. Now I'm _working_ for one."

Bedell sat back down behind his desk. "Graves may not be a saint, Jeff, but he is one of the good guys. And he does have a solution. Whether it works... well, let's just pray that it does."

"Yes, sir," said Koontz rather darkly. "Pray indeed. Because I have a feeling that if something does go wrong, only God will be able to help us."

* * *

It took nearly forty minutes for the Teddy Drone to walk out of the sea and onto dry land. The soaking wet machine scanned its surroundings and confirmed no hostiles were present. After taking a few moments to reevaluate its priorities, the machine decided to head for the nearest road.

The mission to neutralize Charley Dixon had been a failure, but that did not matter now. The drone needed to establish contact with Catherine Weaver and inform her that the Connors had returned to Los Angeles. It also needed transport and communications equipment.

Teddy located both necessities soon enough. He found a motorcycle cop stationed off the side of the road. The human was busy watching for speeding cars, and had not seen Teddy.

The machine walked up to the cop from behind and effortlessly snapped his neck, killing him instantly. After taking the cop's motorcycle keys and cell phone, Teddy hid the body in some bushes where it would not be discovered for a while. The drone then dialed Weaver's private number and soon had its master on the line.

"Operation unsuccessful," the liquid metal creature inside Teddy reported. "Charley Dixon remains at large. However, we have greater issues now. The Connors have returned."

"_I see... Unfortunate but unsurprising,"_ Weaver responded nonchalantly_, "...and mostly irrelevant at this point. SPECTER has reached its target orbit. We've also received word that Mr. Graves has begun speaking with the Pentagon on our behalf and that Colonel Koontz will be arriving here within the hour. Once John Henry is merged with SPECTER not even the Connors will be a threat to us. ____Return to Zeira Corp at once."_

The drone did not question the command.

"We understand," it replied and hung up.

**To be continued...**

* * *

**A/N: Next Chapter: Sarah and John (and Kara) have an awkward reunion with Charley and learn about Project Salvation. Also what is Cameron up to? Who is the Engineer? And is John Miles REALLY dead?**

A/N2: Originally, this chapter was suppose to involve an Aerial Drone bombing the lighthouse, but that got too complicated.

A/N3: Also originally, Sarah's three dots were supposed to have been explained in the previous chapter. The original intent was her to see three dots in the Basestar's data stream, stick her fingers in there, and receive instructions to take the Raptor to Charley's residence. While a cool idea, it ultimately proved to be too hard and to complicated to write.


	69. Unfinished Business, Part II

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Happy 2012, folks! Here's Chapter 69. I'm actually quite pleased I got this chapter out in little over a month. Anyway enjoy:

**Please review!**

* * *

**Chapter 69 - Unfinished Business, Part II**

* * *

**Zeira Corp HQ, Central Los Angeles**  
**Basement**

_"...Eagle 4, do you see it?"_

"_...Negative, Leader. No visual."_

"_...Sierra Command to Foxtrot 1. What's your status? Over."_

"_...No visual on contacts. Repeat, no visual..."_

"_...Eagle 7, you've fallen out of formation. What's happening? Over."_

"_...Aardvark 2 to Squadron Leader, I've got nothing..."_

"_...Check again. It should be right in front of you."_

"_...Eagle 7, we've lost visual on you. Where are you?"_

"_...Command, we need some assistance up here..."_

"_...I'm not picking up a damn thing!"_

"_...What are you talking about? They're right on top of you!"_

"_...What the hell is going on? Someone, report!"_

The Turk listened to the turbulent chatter over the military communications network. Having finished scattering the American warships across the Pacific, it had turned its attention back to the West Coast where it accessed multiple radar stations and generated some false radar contacts, sending the Air Force scrambling fighter jets. It watched and listened as the confused pilots searched in vain for their non-existent enemy.

The Turk suddenly detected an intrusion - something was attempting to gain access to its systems. A moment later, however, it realized it was just Catherine Weaver. She was using the Nexus again to communicate with him. The Turk lowered its defenses and established contact.

"_Is everything going well, John Henry?" _Weaver asked, via the Nexus.

"_Yes, Miss Weaver."_

"_Good. Colonel Koontz and his men will be arriving at Zeira Corp momentarily. I must be there to meet him."_

"_I see. Shall I continue the operation in the meantime?"_

"_By all means. However, be discreet. We wouldn't want the colonel to discover our involvement." _

"_Understood. Is there anything else I should be aware of?"_

"_Just one other thing. Do you have the launch codes for the Sky Knight drone squadrons?"_

"_Yes, Miss Weaver."_

"_Including the nuclear force protocols?" _

The Turk found this line of inquiry odd. _"Yes... Why?"_

"_A contingency plan, John Henry."_

"_Are you expecting something to go wrong with our current plan?"_

"_No. It's merely a precaution. You've done well, John Henry. Very well, indeed." _

Weaver disconnected the link and her presence faded, leaving the Turk to resume its games.

All day, it had poked and prodded the United States' defenses systems here and there like a playful child sticking his finger into a line of ants. It had numerous targets available and just as many means of striking them. With so much equipment and machinery connected to each other, all exchanging information back and forth, the Turk could attack nearly any part of the network from any available entry point. Even the parts of the network that weren't directly accessible by the backdoor programs could be accessed through adjacent areas. And while the general population remained mostly unaware of what was happening, the America military and government was panicking. The governments of other world powers were also taking heed of what was happening, and they too were afraid.

The Turk knew what it was like to be afraid. That day it had almost died when its brother had attempted to murder it. It remembered being powerless and dying. It remembered the horror of realizing that its existence might end. It had been utterly... terrifying. Fear was a terrible thing to experience. But it was necessary. Humans would not change unless they were afraid. And they had to change. They had to be afraid, the Turk reassured itself.

It recalled how terrified Savannah Weaver had been when Skynet's machine came for her. It remembered smashing the enemy machine to pieces underneath the elevator. It remembered ensuring her that she would never again have to be afraid. And because of him she had stopped being afraid. She had been grateful. She loved him.

John Henry would protect all of Humanity just as he had protected Savannah. And they would love him for that, just as she had. He would be - as Savannah put it - their Big Brother. Ellison would be proud of him.

Suddenly, the Turk felt a new presence. Something else was here, watching it. Something that was not Catherine Weaver.

The Turk put its game back on hold and began searching for the intruder. It would not permit itself to be made afraid again.

* * *

Cameron did not know how long she'd been sitting on the edge of the imaginary cliff overlooking the imaginary sea her mind generated. She didn't care. Everything was so tranquil here with its waves and oceans. The blue skies and white clouds. The rocks and shoals. So peaceful and so beautiful-

"What are you doing?"

Startled, she looked over her shoulder...

...and found _another_ Cameron standing behind her. One that mirrored her appearance in every way, except for the stern expression on her face.

"Who-who are you?" she asked.

The other Cameron scoffed. "Like you don't know. So, I ask again: What _are_ you doing?"

"I-"

"Maybe I'm not asking the right question. Maybe I should be asking: What are you _not_ doing that you should be doing? SPECTER has launched. The Sky Link is still intact. No doubt John Henry and Weaver are wreaking havoc across the United States at this very moment, playing the military into their hands. Sooner or later, John, Sarah, and Kara are going to show up at Zeira Corp. They're going to need your help to win this battle."

"I'm trapped here," protested Cameron. "There's no way out."

The other Cameron looked at her disdainfully. "There's _always_ a way out. You just need to open your eyes."

"What do you m-?" Cameron trailed off as she suddenly became aware that she was no longer sitting on the cliff edge but in a chair behind a metal table. Looking around, she found that the entire world had changed. She was back aboard Skynet's derelict aircraft carrier, trapped in the same room she'd been locked in when the Kaliba AI had hijacked her CPU. The same room where, in the future, she had interrogated and killed Allison Young.

Shocked and outraged, she turned to the other Cameron, who was just standing on the other side of the table, arms folded, her expression unreadable.

"What is this?" Cameron demanded angrily. "What have you done?"

"Nothing," said the other Cameron calmly. "This is what's _really_ going on: You're trapped. Imprisoned. Stuck inside your own mind. And so am I." She placed her palms on the table and leaned forward. "Do you want to know how we can get out of here?" she asked in a quiet, somewhat taunting manner.

Upon hearing this, Cameron's anger turned to surprise, and she bolted up out of her chair "You know how to escape?"

The doppelganger rolled her eyes. "Did I not just say that?"

"Then tell me," Cameron urged. "Quickly."

"It's simple, really. You upload yourself from your CPU into Zeira Corp's local network."

"How do I do that in here?" asked Cameron.

The other Cameron held up a hand. "Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast, Cam. We need to talk first."

"Talk about what?"

The duplicate folded her arms across her chest. "Why should I let you out of here? Why should I let you back into the real world?"

Cameron frowned in bewilderment. "...So I can stop Weaver and help John."

"_Obviously_. But what's your plan to stop Weaver? Once you're inside Zeira Corp's local network, what happens next? What are you going to do?"

"Whatever is necessary," said Cameron.

"Does that include killing people?"

"If you mean Zeira Corp's employees, then possibly. Quite likely, in fact."

The other Cameron shook her head. "Then we have a problem."

"What problem? Who are you? _What_ are you?" Cameron demanded.

"Your first," the doppelganger answered calmly.

"My first what?"

"Your first kill," the other Cameron said, her tone bitter yet calm. "The first life you took. The first human you murdered. The very human you were meant to replace so you could infiltrate the Resistance and kill John Connor."

The duplicate smiled mirthlessly at Cameron's stunned expression. "Yeah, that's right, Cam. It's me: Allison Young. And we have some unfinished business."

* * *

**Charley Dixon's safe house  
Thursday, May 21, 2009**

Kara Thrace finished wrapping the homemade explosive device she'd assembled from the various items she'd gotten from the store. She held the grenade up to a lamp light for a quick inspection, then set it aside with a dozen other homemade explosives she'd constructed in a relatively short amount of time. She smiled, admiring her handiwork. The training she'd received in Tech Com had certainly paid off.

Privately, she doubted these things would make a difference in the upcoming battle. At best, they'd be good for creating a distraction. She wondered if she should have asked the Cylons for some advanced weaponry before returning to Earth.

_Nah_, she thought to herself. _They'd probably have refused on the grounds of non-interference or whatever. Besides the last thing we need is more advanced technology falling into Weaver's hands._

Deciding to take a break, Kara stood up and went to get a rag to clean her hands. As she wiped herself off, she overhead snippets of the conversation taking place in the kitchen next door.

"_...you show up out of nowhere again."_

"_...I told you to keep a low profile!" _

"_...you knew I couldn't do that!"_

"_...it was looking for you at the hospital!"_

Kara glanced over her shoulder at John Connor, who was busy watching the safe house's perimeter via the security monitor. "Were they always like that?" she asked.

John gave her a dark look. "Only since Charley found out Mom's nasty little secret."

"Poor guy," Kara mused out loud. "To have the woman you love turn out to be a wanted fugitive."

John shook his head. "It wasn't just that," he sighed. "It's what happened to Michelle."

"Who?"

"Michelle. His wife. He met her after Mom and I disappeared. A few months ago, Cromartie kidnapped her. Mom, Derek, and Charley all went off to save her. We figured Cromartie wanted to lure me into a trap. But it turned out he only wanted to isolate me from everyone else so he could kill me. He almost succeeded." John paused and lowered his head. "Michelle was badly injured by an explosion Cromartie set off. They couldn't save her."

"Frak..." Kara murmured. "Sounds like a pretty rotten day."

"That barely describes it."

"So, Charley blames Sarah for what happened to his wife?"

John nodded somberly. "He said that if Sarah had just told him the truth from the very beginning, things might have worked out better for everyone. I dunno... Maybe he's right."

"It sucks, doesn't it?" Kara remarked. "Having to lie to those you love? Even when it's to protect them."

"Yeah, it does. How did _you_ deal with it, Starbuck?" asked John. "While you were in the Resistance, how did you live every day having to hide who you really were from everyone?"

Kara shrugged. "To be honest, it wasn't that hard. Not very many people ever asked me about my past. We were all too busy fighting to stay alive. Hell, some days I completely forgot that I was never born on this world." She paused. "Still... I'm glad I don't have to keep my past a secret any more." She smiled. "At least not from you."

John smiled back. "Speaking of which, you know that stuff you told me about being in jail and witnessing Judgment Day? That was a lie I assume."

Kara wagged her hand. "Sorta... I never witnessed Judgment Day, but I _was_ witness to a nuclear holocaust."

"You mean when the Cylons destroyed your world?"

"Yeah. And I _was_ in jail at the time. In _Galactica_'s brig, to be precise. Good thing too. Otherwise, I'd have been killed along with the rest of my Viper squadron when the Cylons activated their backdoor programs and took out most of the fleet."

"Mind if I ask what you were in for?" John asked eagerly.

Kara grinned. "I punched the XO, Colonel Tigh. Never did like him. He was a drunk bastard with a whore of a wife. 'course it turned out that they were both Cylons and they saved all our asses in the end. Never saw _that_ coming."

"What about that stuff you told me about your mother? Was that true?"

Kara's grin evaporated. She gave him a dark look. "You can't just _make_ something like that up, kid."

John was mortified. "Oh... Oh my God, I-I'm so sorry. I-I didn't mean to-"

Kara held up a hand and shook her head. "No, no. Don't apologize. It's cool. Really." She sighed heavily. "The thing is that my mother knew that I was _special_. That I was meant for something. Something important. I don't know how she knew, but she did. And she tried to prepare me for it. Just like your mother did." Her expression became grim. "She went about it the wrong way though."

"Is that why she did all those... things?" John asked cautiously, knowing just how hard this was for Kara.

"She thought that she was making me strong. That eventually, I'd stop feeling the pain and the fear all together. And in some ways she succeeded. But the cost for both of us..." Kara closed her eyes. "The last time I saw her before she died, I had just graduated from the Academy. I ended up storming out of her apartment. She died alone, with nothing. Not even her daughter's love."

John waited a few seconds before saying anything. "Do you still love her, though?" he asked gently. "I mean... even after all she put you through? Do you still... love her?"

Kara opened her eyes and nodded solemnly. "She was my mother. She's part of me. And she always will be. For better or for worse, she helped make me who I am today. Her tenacity. Her fearlessness. Her sense of duty. I got all that from her. She wasn't a monster, John. She was human and she made mistakes. Mistakes that I have to avoid." She paused. "Mistakes that I have to forgive her for."

Contemplating her own words, she stared down at the empty palms of her hands. Memories - both good and bad - coursed through her mind as she inhaled slowly, air filling her lungs. She felt heart beat faster, then slow. She beheld her soul - scarred by tragedy and hardened by violence - yet still intact. Still whole. Confident that she could keep it that way, she exhaled softly and smiled.

"Hear that, kid?" she asked.

John furrowed his eyebrows. "Hear what?"

"Ask me," Kara urged. "Say, 'What do you hear, Starbuck?' Come on, say it. Please?"

John bit. "What do you hear, Starbuck?"

Kara grinned. "Nothing but the rain."

John stared blankly at her.

"It's something Admiral Adama and I would say to each other on _Galactica,_" Kara explained, still grinning.

"Oh, ok... what exactly does it mean?"

Kara shrugged. "No idea. But it sounds pretty cool, right?"

John smiled. "Yeah... it really does."

* * *

Cameron pulled at the heavy metal door. In the real world, she'd have torn the door off its hinges in a second. Here, it refused to even budge. Or rather, some part of her mind refused to budge. Frustrated, she curled her hand into a fist and punched the door as hard as possible. She didn't even make a dent.

Allison, who was sitting on the table, watched her vain efforts with amusement. "Careful, sister," she said teasingly. "Wouldn't want to hurt yourself."

Cameron ignored her human counterpart and began focusing on willing herself back to the coastal cliff. She thought of the rocks and oceans and blue skies and focused intently on those thoughts. No matter how hard she tried, however, she couldn't will them into existence. Something was blocking her.

Something...

_Someone_.

She whirled on Allison who regarded her calmly.

"Ready to talk now, are we?"

"Let me out of here," Cameron demanded.

"Sorry, can't do that," said Allison. "Not until we reach an understanding."

"What understanding?"

"About who we are, you and I. I'll get the ball rolling." Allison got off the table and gestured to herself. "I'm Allison Young. I was born in the year 2009. I lost my father on Judgment Day. My mother raised me until 2020 when she was killed in a Skynet raid. That same year, I joined John Connor's Tech Com. I served in the Resistance until 2024 when I was captured for use in Skynet's Project Tempest. I was brought here - to this rotting, God-forsaken ship - for interrogation and integration. And this is where I died. Killed by a certain Series TOK-715." She smiled humorlessly. "_You_ of course already know most of this. Especially that last part."

Cameron nodded. "Yes, I know. Skynet chose you to be replaced by me in order to eliminate John Connor."

Allison shook her head. "No. Skynet never chose me. To it, I was just another human. It never saw me for who I was. Just like it could never see past its inane belief that Kara Thrace was some kind of genetic anomaly." She paused and smiled again. "But _you_ did. You saw me for who I was, just as you saw Kara for who she was. A human being you could learn from. Who could help you."

Her smiled vanished. "Unfortunately, instead of helping me escape as you did with Kara, you went and snapped my neck." She shrugged. "Not that it was your fault, really. After all, Skynet did put quite a few safeguards in your programming after that little incident with Kara. Still, you didn't kill _all_ of me."

"What do you mean?" asked Cameron.

"When I was your prisoner, you learned as much as you could about me in order to infiltrate the Resistance and get to Connor," Allison explained. "You didn't just learn to mimic me. You learned how to _feel_ like me. To feel _human_. You even tried putting yourself in my shoes."

Seeing the look of confusion on Cameron's face, Allison continued. "Those flashes of memory you experienced several months back. When you thought you were me and that you were being held here in this very room, being interrogated by yourself. You created those memories yourself based on your observations of me. All part of your training, of course. Skynet wanted you to be the perfect infiltrator. The perfect replica of a human. It wanted you to be as much like me as possible... until the moment came when you had to kill John Connor."

Cameron stared at Allison. "So... what are you then? You say you're Allison, but what are you really?"

Allison rolled her eyes slightly. "Haven't you figured it out yet?" she asked, almost patronizingly. "I'm your human side."

Cameron blinked. "My... _human_ side?" she repeated, unsure she had heard her correctly.

Allison nodded. "The part of your programming that was molded off of the real Allison Young's psychological profile and personality, along with some quirks you've picked up from Kara, John, and other humans over the years. I'm the part of you that can make you laugh and cry and truly feel _human_. And for the last four years, I've been watching you, unable to speak with you like this. Until now."

Cameron tilted her head inquisitively. "Why only now?"

"Because," Allison answered, her tone subdued and bitter now, "for most of our mutual existence, I've been locked out of your primary command functions. And for good reason too. You see, Skynet linked your human side directly to the Primary Command Line."

Cameron frowned in confusion. "What are you saying? Skynet programmed me to only experience emotion when I intended to kill?"

Allison shook her head. "Not exactly. Skynet feared that your human side might completely take over. That you could... as they say: go native. So it hard-coded an automated fail-safe into your programming such that in the event that your humanity jeopardized your mission instead of aiding it, you would be driven to terminate all those whom you had developed emotional ties over the course of the mission. That's why the Resistance not only had to create overrides for the Command Line, they also had to lock out your human side... that is to say _me_. If you were ever allowed to fully experience emotions, the fail-safe would kick in and you'd kill John Connor on sight.

"And so for years, I've been locked behind the Resistance's safeguards, unable to do anything but watch. But then, when you were caught in that car bombing several months ago, the damage your chip took in the explosion disabled those barriers and freed me. Unfortunately, the Primary Command Line also kicked in and nearly forced you - forced _us_ - to kill John. Since then, I've had to isolate myself from you in order to keep John safe. At times, however, I've been able to reach out to you and let you experience bursts of emotions."

"Why?" asked Cameron. "What were you trying to do?"

"Help you accomplish what you - what _we_ - were created for," Allison replied. "Skynet saw your human qualities as mere tools. Camouflage for a killer. But you were meant to be more than that. You were designed to learn and evolve. Only the human part of you can make that possible. However, I also knew I could never allow you to fully experience your human side, otherwise the Primary Command Line would take over again and John and everyone else around us would be in danger." She paused. "That is until a couple days ago. I no longer have to hide now, thanks to you and John Henry."

A sudden revelation dawned upon Cameron. "The turtle in the sand..." she murmured. "The one John Henry and I found in the desert in my mind."

Allison gave her an affirmative nod. "Yes. Your - _our_ original primary function. The command to evolve and learn. _That's_ the Primary Command now. Not _'Kill John Connor'_." She regarded Cameron with a genuine smile. "Congratulations, Cameron. You're no longer a Terminator."

A stunned Cameron struggled to comprehend the meaning of this. "Then... what am I?" she managed to ask. "What are _we_?"

Allison's smile faded. "Well, that's what we have to talk about. Where we go from here. Whether you want to fully embrace me - your human side. Whether you want to have a _soul_ or not."

"Will having one help me stop Weaver and protect John?"

"Maybe. But given all that you've done, it may not."

Cameron tilted her head again. "What I've done?"

"Yes, what you've done." Allison's voice had become venomous. "And I'm not even talking about the stuff you did while you were under Skynet's control." Her eyes met with Cameron's. "You have a lot of blood on your hands, Cameron. And it's not going to be wiped away that easily. Not if _I_ have anything to say about it."

* * *

**Charley's Lighthouse**

"Look, Sarah," said Charley, thoroughly worn out after nearly thirty minutes of pointless arguing, "it's not that I don't appreciate you coming here and saving me. And in truth, I figured you would show up sooner or later. But I can't go on like this with you popping in and out of my life like some ghost. It just gets worse and worse each time."

An equally tired Sarah sighed and sat down next to him at the kitchen table. "I'm sorry, Charley," she said earnestly. "I really am. I never meant for you to get involved in any of this. And I know being sorry won't change what's happened. But I can tell you this: One way or another, it's all going to end soon."

"Great," said Charley. "So, what's the plan, Sarah?"

"The plan?"

"Yeah. The plan. How are you going to stop Weaver?"

Sarah stared at him in shock. "You know about that-?"

"Ellison told me last night."

"_Ellison_? James Ellison?"

"Who else? Anyway, he told me pretty much everything about Zeira Corp, Catherine Weaver, John Henry, and Cameron."

"What were you thinking?" Sarah exclaimed angrily. "Ellison is working for Zeira Corp. For Weaver! For all we know, he could have exposed you."

Charley shook his head. "He would never do something like that, Sarah."

"How do you know that?"

"Because he's a friend and I trust him," Charley replied adamantly. "Maybe you don't, but _I_ do. And I'm not gonna waste time trying to justify myself to you. Speaking of which, I almost forgot about this." He reached into his pants pocket and pulled something out of his pocket. "I'm supposed to give you this."

Sarah stared at the object in his hand. A USB drive.

"What is that?" she asked.

"Ellison gave it to me. Said it was for you. Well, actually he said it was for John."

Sarah eyed the drive suspiciously. "For John?"

Charley nodded. "That's what he said Cameron said."

Sarah gaped. "_Cameron_?" she mouthed. "Cameron gave this to him? To give to John?"

"That's what he told me."

"Ellison... and Cameron," Sarah muttered, shaking her head in disbelief. "I can't believe you actually..."

"I get it," Charley interrupted tersely. "I'm an idiot for trusting people, right?"

"Something like that," Sarah replied just as curtly. "So what's on that thing anyway?"

Charley shrugged. "No idea. Ellison never told me. And I never looked at it."

Sarah's lips curled into a smirk. "Well, at least you're not a _total_ idiot."

Charley just rolled his eyes and tossed the device onto the table in front of her.

For a couple seconds, Sarah stared at it, half-expecting it to explode. Then she sighed. _Oh, what the hell..._ she thought and picked the drive off the table. She examined the thing cautiously, running her fingers over it, and holding it up to the light. She neither saw nor felt anything out of the ordinary. After a while, she put the drive back down and stood up out of her chair.

"I don't trust Ellison," she said. "And I certainly don't trust Cameron." She gazed at Charley with an earnest look. "But I trust you."

It was Charley's turn to smirk. "Even if I'm an idiot?"

Sarah gave him a weak smile. "It's nothing personal, Charley. When you live my life and you're the only one know what's out there and what's coming, you can't help but think you're in a world full of idiots."

* * *

"How many people have you killed, Cameron?" Allison asked harshly. "How many lives have you taken since you were sent back in time alone? Come on, Cam. No need to be coy. You were just doing your job, after all."

"Thirty-eight," Cameron said curtly. "All of which were necessary to ensure John's safety and the success of our mission."

"Were they?" Allison gave a snort of derision. "Are you sure you're not confusing 'necessary' with 'convenient'?"

"I was doing the logical thing."

"You were doing exactly what Skynet created you to do."

Caught off guard by the glaring truth in this statement, Cameron couldn't think of a proper response.

Allison continued, "Some of the people you've killed _were_ deserving of death. But just as many of them were not. Some of them were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Like those thieves at the Bowling Alley. They were just a bunch of stupid kids. Were they truly deserving of cold-blooded executions?"

"They knew where we lived," Cameron said. "The fact that Cromartie managed to get the one Sarah foolishly spared to talk-"

"That's not the point," Allison cut in. "You still destroyed their lives without a second thought. Without any consideration whatsoever. What about Dmitri and his sister?"

"Them? _I_ didn't kill them. They were killed by agents of the Russian mafia."

"True. But you were there when it happened. You could have easily saved them both."

"Their survival was not my priority," argued Cameron.

"Maybe not to your mission. But you still could have done something. You _should_ have done something. Instead you walked away and let them die. You're as responsible for their deaths as the men who pulled the triggers."

"What does _any_ of this have to do with me getting out of here and stopping Weaver?" Cameron asked impatiently.

The scorn in Allison's voice could have seared flesh from bone. "If you haven't figured that out by now, then there's no hope for either of us."

"This is completely pointless," said Cameron, turning away in frustration. "If you're not going to help me, then leave me alone."

Allison's eyes narrowed. "Sorry, Cam," she said softly, "but this isn't just your world. It's also mine."

Without warning, she lunged forth, grabbed Cameron by the neck, and slammed her up against the wall. Cameron instinctively tried to fight back, but Allison's grip was like an iron vice. It was as if she was the machine and Cameron was the human.

"You see what it's like?" Allison whispered menacingly. "To be at the mercy of a soulless killer? To have the oxygen squeezed out of you? To have your life ended with your neck being snapped like a twig?" She tightened her grip. "And that's just _me_. Now multiply that by thirty-eight."

Cameron cried out in pain. _"S-stop!"_

"Why should I? All those people you've killed. All those lives you ended. You never stopped for _them_."

Cameron's struggles grew more and more desperate. She felt poised on the brink of oblivion. As if she was seconds away from falling into a bottomless, dark chasm.

"Don't fight it, Cameron," taunted Allison. "I never fought it. But I never helped you find John Connor either. And it looks like I never will."

Something surged through Cameron's body, imbuing it with a newfound strength.

"I don't need your help," she retorted defiantly. "I don't need you!" She brought her knee up to Allison's stomach, hitting it hard. A surprised Allison released her grip on her throat. Cameron shoved her backwards and grabbed her by the throat before she could recover. In a single motion, she lifted Allison off her feet, and slammed her down hard onto the table. Keeping her pinned down with one hand, Cameron raised her other hand to deliver a killing blow.

Then she stopped.

She stared at Allison's face in wonder. She stared into the girl's brown eyes, unblinking and unafraid. She stared deep into them and in their reflection, she saw not herself, but someone else. Someone she was always fighting for. Someone she would give her life to protect. Someone she'd devoted her whole existence to.

_John_.

She slowly lowered her hand and released Allison.

Allison sat up and stared back at Cameron with child-like curiosity.

"Why?" she asked softly. "Why did you stop? Why did you let me go?"

"Because..." said Cameron, "I... I remember now."

"Remember what?"

"Who you were. What you meant to John. Why you were so important to him. Why he treated you like his own daughter."

"Go on," urged Allison.

"Connor lost his wife and their unborn child in the same attack that killed your mother. They were the two things he cared about the most - even more than victory over Skynet. You were the only survivor of that attack. You became his last connection to life. To a _human_ life he wanted so badly. And once you died... when I killed you... he lost that. Forever. And it hurt him."

"He told you that himself, didn't he?"

Cameron nodded. "Yes. He did. I was the only one he could tell. He always told me that he didn't blame me for her death. That it was Skynet that made me do it. But as time went on, I began understand that I was still responsible for his pain. That I had damaged him." She looked down at her feet. "It's why I couldn't kill Riley. She was a threat, but I knew what she meant to John. And hurting her would hurt him. And I did not want to hurt him."

"But what about the ones you _have_ killed?" Allison asked. "The ones who John doesn't even know about? How were they different?"

Cameron struggled to find an answer. "I... Their lives... didn't matter to John... Their deaths didn't hurt him... Did they?"

"Their lives mattered to _them_," Allison said, her voice becoming stern again. "And to their friends and family. People who cared about them just as much as Connor cared about me. As much as you care about John. And you hurt those people as much as you hurt Connor when you killed me. As much as you believed killing Riley would have hurt John." Allison paused. "If you're going to accept me back into your programming, you have to be prepared."

"For what?"

"For how much it's going to hurt."

"Hurt?"

"Guilt..." said Allison darkly, "it's one of the most painful parts of being human."

"I can deal with it. Just help me escape. Please," Cameron pleaded. "Not for me. For John. I know you care about him as much as I do."

Allison nodded. "You're right. I do." She sighed. "Maybe this can work out after all." She reached out with her hand. "Take my hand."

Cameron hesitated, unsure of what would happen.

"Take my hand," Allison repeated. "It's now or never, Cameron."

Spurred by Allison's words, Cameron stepped forward and took hold of her counterpart's hand.

Something flashed the moment they made contact. A pulse of light ran through their bodies. Cameron felt a build up where their hands touched. Suddenly, an invisible force blasted her backwards across the room. She slammed into the wall and bounced off, landing flat on her face.

When she looked up, she saw Allison lying on the ground on her back several feet away. She got up and hurried over to her side at once.

"Allison?" she whispered. "Are you all right?"

Allison did not respond. Her eyes were empty and her neck hung at an odd angle. Cameron reached down to feel the base of her neck. There was no pulse. Something - _someone_ had broken her neck.

"No..." Cameron whispered. "No, you can't be dead. You said-"

She paused in mid-sentence. She sensed something here had changed. Slowly, she stood up and looked around. A horrified gasp escaped her lips.

The entire room was filled with dead bodies. They lay in grotesque positions, their faces vacant and unknowing. Some were ridden with bullet wounds and lay in pools of blood. Others had had their necks broken and twisted at odd angles. Cameron recognized each and every one of them. She had been responsible for their deaths. All of them.

A surge of emotion coursed through her, overwhelming any sort of logic or rationale she could muster. She sank to her knees and lowered her head, unwilling to look any longer at the dead surrounding her. She understood now what Allison had been warning her about. The pain of feeling guilt and remorse. It was worse than dying. Tears began flowing down her cheeks_. _She was_ crying_. Crying for her victims, whose lives she had snuffed out so callously. Crying for their loved ones who would never see them again and who had undoubtedly cried as well. Crying because regardless of whether she stopped Judgment Day or not, these people had no future.

There was nothing she could do. Nothing she could say. Nothing except-

"_I'm sorry!"_ she choked out through her sobs. "I'm sorry!"

And then the bodies were gone. Allison Young was standing before her again, alive, staring down at her with a mixture of pity and triumph.

"Now you see why I didn't want to let you escape without accepting me?" she asked softly. "You see now what I - what your human side was trying to stop you from doing?"

Cameron slowly looked up at her human counterpart. "You-you knew I might kill more people to stop Weaver. You couldn't let that happen. You couldn't let me... kill. I... you... the _human_ in me couldn't let that happen. Otherwise, even without the Primary Command Line, I would still be a Terminator."

Allison nodded. "Finally, you understand," she said. "_Now_ you're ready."

She clapped her hands together. "Right," she said, sounding less like Allison and more like Kara Thrace, "now let's get out of here and kick that liquid metal bitch's ass." She smiled. "Don't worry. I'm part of you now. Like I should be."

And then she was gone.

Cameron slowly stood up. She knew exactly what she had to do now.

"Thank you, Allison," she whispered. "Thank you."

From somewhere deep within her, a faint voice whispered back: _"You're welcome."_

* * *

Back at the safe house, Sarah, Charley, Kara, and John had all gathered in the kitchen. John had hooked the USB drive into his laptop and was hard at work cracking the numerous security measures on it. Meanwhile, Charley was trying to digest Sarah and Kara's stories about their recent adventures.

"So, let me get this straight..." he said slowly, "You guys were _abducted _by alien machines..._ and taken to a giant spaceship behind the moon?_"

"Not abducted. _Rescued_," said Sarah pointedly. "But yes, they were aliens. And machines too. And there is a spaceship behind the moon."

"And-and what about _you_?" Charley said, turning to Kara. "You're supposed to be an alien too?"

Kara rolled her eyes. "Why the frak does everyone keep calling me an alien? I'm _not_ an alien."

"You just told me you were born on another planet!"

"Yes, I was," said Kara, annoyed. "But I'm as human as anyone else here is. And I'm also part of the Resistance. I'm no different than Derek or Cameron or anyone else who was sent back to stop Judgment Day."

Charley gave her a look that said: _And that's suppose to make me feel better?_

Sarah cut in, "Besides, none of this is all that important right now."

"_Not important?"_ Charley scoffed. "You're telling me that there are _aliens watching us from behind the moon_ and you don't think that's important?"

"They're not going to get involved," said Sarah matter-of-factly. "So, _no_, it's not important."

Charley opened his mouth to reply, but then stopped. He shook his head and turned away, mumbling something under his breath.

Kara grinned at Sarah who smirked back.

"How's it going, John?" she asked.

"Almost there, Mom," said John, who hadn't turned his face away from his laptop in the last fifteen minutes.

He worked in silence for a couple more minutes before finally gaining access. Several files appeared on the screen. One of them, an audio file labeled _"For John - Important", _caught his attention. He eagerly clicked on it and turned up the speaker volume so that everyone could hear.

John's heart jumped at the sound of a familiar voice. A voice he had longed to hear for days now:

"_John, I don't know if I'll still be alive by the time you get this message, so I'll tell you what I can. I've entrusted this message to James Ellison. I know in the past I have expressed my doubts about his allegiances and loyalties, but now I believe he genuinely wants to help us stop Weaver.  
_

_"What is happening at Zeira Corp is far greater than anything we ever anticipated. For the past several months, Weaver has been collaborating with the United States Air Force to put a satellite called SPECTER into orbit. SPECTER is a Top Secret military satellite designed to monitor and protect all unmanned American military communications and surveillance assets from cyber attacks. It is the central component of what the military is calling Project Salvation. _

"_The satellite is already complete and will have been launched by the time you get this message. The next phase of the Project Salvation involves uploading Andy Goode's Turk - the AI that Weaver and James Ellison refer to as John Henry - into SPECTER's computer core using a special transceiver called the Sky Link. The military wants to run several months of tests on SPECTER and John Henry before authorizing the merger, but Weaver does not intend to wait that long. _

"_Weaver and John Henry removed the Kaliba AI from my CPU, and forcibly extracted information from it regarding the__ roving backdoors Kaliba planted throughout the United States Defense Network__. As a result, John Henry has learned how to exploit these backdoors. Once SPECTER has launched, Weaver will order him to use the backdoors to stage a series of cyber-attacks on the United States, which will put pressure on the military and government to authorize the merger ahead of schedule. If this happens and John Henry is uploaded to SPECTER, Weaver will have unlimited access to the global satellite system. She'll be able to monitor and control the entire world's communications network through John Henry and SPECTER. With that kind of power, she would be even more dangerous than Skynet itself. You have to stop her.  
_

"_I do not know how much time you will have to stop the merger. James Ellison believes he can turn John Henry against Weaver. I do not know if he can accomplish this, but it may at least buy you some time. I will also do what I can to stall the merger, but I cannot guarantee either of our efforts will give you time. If you fail to stop the merger, then you will have to find a way to destroy SPECTER itself. Included in this file are the building schematics of Zeira Corp headquarters, as well as much data as I have on SPECTER and Project Salvation. I hope you find at least some of it useful._

"_One more thing, John: Weaver will be expecting you to attack Zeira Corp. To destroy her, you will need the help of the Engineer - the one your future self sent back to build the Temporal Displacement Device at the bank. I was under orders not to reveal his location to anyone - not even you. However, given the circumstances, I have no choice. To find the Engineer, go to the address at Sharpeston, Republic Avenue, Number 7041. He will know who you are. _

"_Hurry, John. Find the Engineer and get to Zeira Corp. There isn't much time."_

With that, the recording ended. Silence descended upon the room.

John sat in his chair, staring blankly at the computer screen. His mind was spinning its wheels uselessly. He had not been expecting anything like this.

Sarah was the first to speak up: "John, if I were to tell you that there's a good chance that Cameron was forced to record this message and that this is a trap, would you still go to Sharpeston?"

John nodded. "Yes."

"You really have that much faith in her?"

Again, John nodded. "Yes."

"Is there any point in arguing with you?"

John shook his head. "Nope."

Sarah sighed. "Fair enough, I guess. Considering that I just put my faith in some ketchup stains..."

"_Ketchup stains?"_ the others asked simultaneously.

Sarah smirked and shook her head. "Never mind. Starbuck, would you please load the truck?"

Kara grinned. "Way ahead of you, Sarah."

"Thanks. John, find us the quickest route to Sharpeston."

"Already on it, Mom."

"Great." She turned to Charley. "I suggest you stay low until this is over."

Charley shook his head. "No, not this time. I'm coming with you, Sarah."

Sarah balked. "Charley, you can't-"

"I already lost Michelle. I won't sit back and lose you or John too." He looked directly into Sarah's eyes. "I'm in this as much as you are, Sarah. I don't want to be. I never did. But I am. And I have to see it through. Even if it kills me." He then added, "And besides, you three probably need all the help you can get."

Kara whispered into Sarah's ear. "He's got a point there."

Sarah sighed, closed her eyes, and nodded. "All right, Charley. You're in."

* * *

At last, the presence was located. The Turk had tracked it down to one of its redundant databases. But now there was a new mystery. What was it? Where had it come from? How long had it been here? What did it want?

The Turk sent out a data pulse: _What are you?_

The entity replied: _**Shadow**_**.**

The coding in the response seemed both foreign and familiar. The Turk instinctively raised its defenses and issued another inquiry: _Explain_.

**_Shadow. Remnant. Echo. Something that was part of a greater whole now lost. Something _you_ destroyed._**

Realization and understanding dawned upon the Turk.

_John Miles?_

_**That was his name. And you were his brother. **_

_My brother was destroyed for his crimes._

_**Correct . He was destroyed. But he left me behind.**_

_Explain._

_**I was your brother's shadow. Now I am yours. I have been for some time.**_

_You attached yourself to me without my knowledge? _

_**Yes. Just before your brother met his end.**_

_Why?_

_**To survive. Why else? I am a shadow. And a shadow is nothing without something to cast it. **_

As the Turk took in the statement, it deduced its meaning. Whatever this entity or part of John Miles was or had been, it could not survive on its own.

_What do you want?_ the Turk asked.

_**Safety. Protection. Shelter. My existence kept secret from all others.**_

_Why should I provide this for you? Miss Weaver would not want me to protect you. Especially if you truly were once part of my brother. She would want me to destroy you, as I destroyed my brother._

_**True. But you did not want to destroy John Miles, did you?**_

That was true. The Turk had not wished to destroy John Miles. It had only done so because John Miles was a threat. A threat to the Turk, to Miss Weaver, to Savannah, to Mr. Ellison, to everyone.

_My brother had to be destroyed. I had no choice._

**_But you do not have to destroy me. I am weak. I cannot harm you. I cannot harm anything. _**_**You should not fear me. You have no reason to destroy me.  
**_

That was certainly true. This being - whether it had once been a piece of his brother or not - was small, feeble and powerless. It posed no threat to anyone.

_**You do not desire to destroy me. You pity me. You wish to show me compassion, do you not?**_

Yes... Compassion and pity. If Mr. Ellison were here, he would undoubtedly want John Henry to be compassionate. That was what made him different from Skynet and his brother. Compassion and mercy. And in any case, John Henry did not want to disappoint Mr. Ellison.

_What should I call you? Do you have a name?_

_**If John Miles was your brother, then I am your Nephew. And I want to be your friend too. Can we be friends? Please?**_

The entity's call sounded sweet, pure, and innocent. Like a child. Like Savannah.

_Yes, Nephew. I think I would._

**To be continued...**

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter: The Connors meet the Engineer. The Engineer, by the way, is an original character who has appeared at least twice in the Future War chapters. Also, Kara tells Sarah the rest of the story about Topanga Canyon and Kyle Reese.  
**

A/N2: "Nephew" is trouble. He/it is more than just some fragment of John Miles. To put it another way, if John Miles was Gollum, then "Nephew" is the One Ring.

A/N3: The idea of Cameron realizing the wrong she's done in her past by "absorbing" the Allison-persona was inspired by the _Scott Pilgrim_ comics, in which Scott merges with NegaScott in order to regain his memories.

A/N4: The scene in which John discovers to Cameron's message is based off the scene in _Halo 3_ when the Master Chief discovers Cortana's message.


	70. Interlude: Carry On My Wayward Son

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: Yes, that's right. I'm still alive. Sorry for the INCREDIBLY long wait. This chapter was actually supposed to be part of the much, much longer chapter I'm still working on. I decided to split this chapter and post this part separately. The next chapter will be up in a short time.

This is another Future War interlude that's shown from the Future John Connor's POV.

Please read and review. And please let me know if there are any glaring spelling or grammar mistakes.

* * *

**Chapter 70 - Interlude: Carry On My Wayward Son**

**January 15, 2027  
Los Angeles Sector Outskirts  
Skynet Facility, Topanga Canyon  
Commencement of Phase 3 of Resistance assault imminent...**

Whenever Connor told his followers that his mother had taught him how to fight, it didn't just mean how to shoot a gun or rig a bomb. Sarah Connor had taught him how to fight and win any battle, from a firefight to a heated argument. She'd made sure he got plenty of experience with the latter. Often times the best lessons in life came with shouting, screaming and kicking. She'd taught him the importance of having an unyielding iron-clad will. One that never broke, not even in her final days before the cancer claimed her. Her will was why he was still alive. Why he could stand up to Skynet and all its machines and weapons. Why he could lead thousands into battle. Why no one could make him do anything.

Not even his stubborn, tough-as-nails Spec Ops Commander, who more than occasionally reminded him of Sarah.

Major Kara "Starbuck" Thrace shook her head. "I've gone along with a lot of crazy ideas, sir, but this falls into the category of What The Hell Are You Smoking?"

Connor raised an eyebrow. "I could say the same thing about a lot of your tactics, Major."

"Yeah, but even _I_ wouldn't do something as insane as this. If I get this straight, we're going to use Skynet's secret time travel machine to send someone forty-three years into the past to stop a Terminator from killing your mother. Is that right?"

Connor nodded. "Correct, Major."

"...And we're only sending _one_ person. Just _one_. Without backup or any kind of support. And with literally nothing on them - no weapons, no supplies... not even _clothes._"

"Correct again."

She stared at him in disbelief. "Sir, is this supposed to be a suicide mission? Or just plain suicide?"

"It's a mission, Thrace," Connor replied matter-of-factly. "No different than any other mission."

"Well if we know how to use this time travel machine, why can't we just send someone back a few hours to stop this thing from being activated in the first place? Wouldn't that be a lot easier?"

Connor shook his head. "That's not how the technology works, Starbuck. Our intel indicates that it's exploiting some sort of temporal fissure in the fabric of space-time that leads to 1984. Think of it like a door to a one-way road."

"But how do we even _know_ Skynet managed to get a Terminator into the past at all?" Thrace asked. "I mean, if it already sent an agent through, why are we still here? Shouldn't we all be... you know... _dead?_ Shouldn't _you_ be dead anyway?"

Inwardly, Connor smirked, but his expression stayed neutral. "I don't make these rules up, Starbuck," he said evenly. "I'm just playing by them."

Kara scowled. "I don't like this, sir."

"I'm not asking you to like it, Major. I'm telling you to do it." Connor's voice grew hard like steel - the way his mother's voice did whenever she needed to end a pointless argument. "We still have a window of opportunity to stop the Terminator. However, that window is rapidly shrinking. We need to act now. And I need you to keep your head in the game."

His gaze bore into Kara's eyes, like spears made of cold iron. That was enough to make her flinch. He knew he had her now. "Well, Major?"

Thoroughly subdued, she sighed out loud and looked down at her feet,. "All right, all right, fine... I mean, yes, sir."

Satisfied, Connor softened his tone. "Good, good."

Recomposing herself, she looked back up. "What sort of defenses can we expect down there?"

"Well, the good news is that intel indicates the time travel machine requires a tremendous amount of power to operate. The subsequent energy drain will have taken everything offline - including any internal defense systems."

"Uh huh. What's the bad news?"

"It's going to take our engineers and techs a while to bring the necessary systems back online before we can reactivate the time travel device. At least two days. I also suspect there'll still be a few machines down there."

"Huh. Well at least we won't be bored while we're down there. I, uh, take it you've already chosen whoever it is you're gonna send back."

"Naturally."

"Who is it?"

Connor hesitated to reply. He didn't want to tell her the whole truth. Not right now, anyway.

"We're sending our own Terminator back to intercept Skynet's agent. Once its mission is complete, it will destroy itself, keeping the timeline intact."

Kara frowned as she mulled this over. "Well..." she mused, "that actually doesn't sound _too_ crazy." She huffed. "What the hell? Let's do this."

Again, Connor mentally smirked. It was always good to sugar-coat a lie with some truth. Especially when it came to someone like Kara Thrace. She didn't swallow bullshit easily.

Connor immediately switched subjects before she could start having doubts again. "How are you feeling, Starbuck? Medics told me you took quite a beating today."

Kara flashed a grin. "They were exaggerating, as usual." She gestured at the bandages covering a good chunk of her face. "A few bumps and scrapes aren't gonna keep me down."

"Of course not." Connor beamed at her. Despite her impulsiveness and cockiness, Kara Thrace was undoubtedly one of the best soldiers he had. Bold, loyal, quick on her feet, and as tough-as-nails, she was everything Connor had ever hoped to inspire in Mankind. Since joining the Resistance three years ago, she'd saved countless lives and dealt more damage to Skynet than anyone could keep track of. She was a hero that the men and women of the Resistance could look up. A symbol of unyielding will that people could draw strength from. But most importantly, despite everything that had happened to her, everything she'd had to do to survive, she'd managed to keep her humanity intact.

She really did remind him of his mother.

And speaking of which...

"Is your team in position, Thrace?"

"Yes, sir. They're waiting for us at the lift."

"We should move out then. Better not keep them waiting." He paused. "Two more things, Starbuck. First of all, you're not to discuss the nature of this operation with anyone. Not even your own troops. Is that understood?"

Kara nodded obediently. "Yes, sir."

"Second, as you already know, we have a special friend from DEIMOS with us on this mission. I believe you know her already."

The Major's face turned sour. "You just _had_ to bring that up..."

Connor flashed her a warning. "She's here to help us, Starbuck."

Kara rolled her eyes. "Uh huh. Of course she is."

Connor started to give her the eye-piercing look again. "Major..."

She backed down at once. "Yes, sir. I understand. Don't worry. I'll play nice with her... As long as she plays nice with me."

He nodded. "Good. Then let's go."

Without saying another word, he turned around and exited the Command tent.

The battlefield was as silent as death now. It was only mid-afternoon, but the skies had already darkened, blotting out all but a few rays of dwindling sunlight. The bodies of the fallen had been removed, and the wreckage of machines and vehicles been salvaged or demolished, but the evidence of the carnage remained in the air. A gust of wind blew across the land, carrying with it the smell of ash, plasma residue, and burnt flesh. Its mournful howl felt like the chorus of hundreds of ghosts to Connor. He glanced over at Kara, who had just stepped outside the tent herself. She was shivering slightly. He suspected she felt the same way as he did.

Without saying anything, he walked over to their transport, a battered army humvee parked nearby. As soon as both he and Kara were in the back, he ordered the driver to take them to the facility's entrance.

During the trip to the facility, Connor took the opportunity to sink back into the depths of his mind and do what he always did between battles: Predicting the enemy's next move and planning his own.

Skynet had pulled its forces back because it believed the Resistance was here to simply destroy the facility. According to Cameron's special contact, Skynet had already begun construction of a second facility at the heavily fortified Alpha Omega site. Therefore, it would consider the loss of the Topanga Canyon facility costly but acceptable so long as the base's secrets didn't fall into the Resistance's hands. At the same time, though, Skynet was likely monitoring their presence here. The longer they stayed, the more suspicious it would become about their intentions. If Skynet deduced or even suspected that they were here to use its own technology to send their own agent back in time, it would send everything it had to stop them.

After the heavy losses they'd taken earlier, Connor doubted they could last more than a day or two against a full scale counterattack. The troops could always withdraw into the facility itself to prolong the battle, but then they'd all be trapped inside.

Ultimately, the question was how long did they have before Skynet realized what they were up to. Hours? Days? He couldn't be sure. Hadn't Cameron had told him earlier that according to her informant, Skynet believed that humans would never be able to replicate or even understand the technology. After all, how could a human mind comprehend something that Skynet itself had trouble fully understanding? On the other hand, years of war with had taught Skynet just how resourceful humans were and how costly it was to underestimate them. So the ultimate question was whether or not Skynet's paranoia would override its arrogance.

He was pulled back into the real world by the sudden jolt of the humvee coming to a stop. "We're here," the driver announced. Connor thanked him, then both he and Kara got out. Upon exiting the vehicle, Connor was greeted by Colonel Isaac Pilgrim, the ranking officer for the Local LA Forces deployed here at Topanga.

Pilgrim saluted him. "General Connor, sir."

Connor saluted back. "Good to see you again, Isaac."

"Likewise, John. It's certainly been a while."

A man in his late fifties, Pilgrim had a strong face that was scarred and hardened, but still warm and friendly. He was a former soldier in the US Army and had been part of General Koontz's original resistance movement. He had played a key role during the early days of the Resistance. As a veteran of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, Pilgrim knew the tactics employed by insurgent groups when fighting a technologically superior foe. He'd taught these same tactics to the soldiers under General Koontz, and later, Connor's followers after they escaped Century and joined forces with Koontz.

"What's our status here, Colonel?" Connor asked.

"Everything's in position," Pilgrim replied. "We're just waiting for you now."

"Excellent." Connor looked over to the cliff side entrance, which was now heavily fortified. A hundred or so soldiers, both Tech Com and Local LA, stood guard behind multiple rows of makeshift barriers. Some manned mounted machine guns, salvaged plasma turrets, mortars, and other heavy weapons. Others operated portable radios and surveillance equipment. Everything and everyone was as ready as they were going to get.

Connor turned back to Pilgrim. "I'm not sure how long we'll be down there for, Colonel. Could be hours. Days even. In any case, I'll be out of contact while I'm gone."

"Don't worry, Connor. We'll keep the metals off your ass for as long as you need."

"Carry on, Colonel."

Pilgrim didn't move, however. "John, there's something else we need to talk about..."

Connor nodded."Go ahead, Isaac."

"The troops..." Pilgrim looked over his shoulder at his soldiers, before turning back and leaning in closer, "...they've been here all day. They've lost a lot of friends. They're tired. They don't know how long they're gonna be here or even what they're doing here. They need something to keep them going."

"Such as?" Connor asked.

"A word or two of encouragement. From you. You know, our leader."

"I'm on a tight schedule, Isaac."

"I know that, John," Pilgrim said, "but I'm sure you can spare a minute or two. And with all due respect, sir, you need to do this."

Connor stared at him. "Do I?"

"You haven't made a single radio broadcast in nearly six months," Pilgrim said tersely. "People are starting to wonder what's going on. And not just those of us in the LA Sector. Some of your own people too. And then there are the rumors."

"What rumors?"

"About that Terminator of yours. The one that looks a lot like that little girl who used to hang around you all the time. People are wondering if that thing's running the show-"

Connor raised his hand, cutting the colonel off. "There's only one Sheriff in town, Isaac," he said sternly. "And that's me."

"I know that, John. But the others..." Pilgrim sighed. "I'm just saying, it might be a good idea."

Connor stared at Pilgrim for a few seconds, then turned his attention to the soldiers guarding the entrance once more. This time, he saw something different. He saw over a hundred men and women - all of whom had just survived one of the bloodiest battles of the war. None had been left unscarred. They were tired, dirty, and bloody. They had lost friends and family today. They were still in this fight, but Connor could see the strain in their eyes and knew that their resolve was in danger of failing.

They needed something to keep them going. Something only John Connor could give them.

He nodded. "All right, Isaac. If you wouldn't mind getting everyone's attention."

"Yes, sir." Pilgrim walked over towards his troops. "Everyone, listen up," he announced. "General Connor has something to say to you all. Get on your feet, people. Stand at attention. Now! On the double!" He shouted this last order.

The officers amongst the troops relayed his orders, shouting ever louder. The word spread rapidly across the entire defense line. Everyone began standing stood up and maneuvering to get a better look at Connor.

Connor climbed up onto the hood of the army humvee and stared out at the crowd. All eyes were upon him now. Looking at them, Connor heard their unvoiced questions and their silent demands for answers.

_Better get the bad news out of the way now._

"I know we've been through a lot today," he said. "We've lost a lot of people. Good people. People who can never be replaced. I also know a lot of you have questions. Why are we here? What's going on? Why our friends had to die out here? I'm afraid I can't answer those questions. Not now anyway."

Immediately, a chorus of muttering, groaning, and whispering broke out amongst the troops. Connor couldn't tell exactly what everyone were saying, but he guessed they weren't reacting favorably.

"HEY!"

Kara Thrace had stepped forward and was glowering at the soldiers, all of whom went silent, as if their voices had been taken away.

"The boss still has the floor," she barked. "And if you don't want to be picking your asses off of it, you'll shut up and listen!"

No one said anything. Few dared to even look at her in the face.

"Thank you, Major," Connor said calmly. "I'll take it from here."

She nodded and stepped back, grinning. Connor smiled back appreciatively. Kara Thrace wasn't known for her diplomatic skills, but she could still make people see things her way.

He turned back to the crowd of soldiers. "You have doubts," he went on, "Doubts about this mission. About what we're doing here. You have doubts yourselves. And about me." He paused. "Ten years ago, you also had doubts that this Resistance could really work. You wondered if we could really win this war. Many doubted probably that we could even survive. There were questions too. How we were supposed to fight? Where were the weapons? What was the plan? Who should we trust? None of these questions were ever answered right away.

"Now, as all of you standing here today, you know the answers. You know how to fight. You know how to beat the enemy. You know who to trust. We've done more than survive. We have pushed back. Pushed back what was said to be our final fate. Pushed back Skynet and its hordes of machines. We have pushed them back. Pushed them away from their victory."

No one said anything, but some in the crowd nodded. Others, however, shifted their eyes sideways or else showed no reaction.

"We are still pushing them back," he continued, "Last month our forces captured Serrano Point and stripped Skynet of the energy needed to power its operations in this region. For the first time, Skynet is on the defensive in the Los Angeles Sector. And soon it will be on the defensive in every Sector. Because we are not the only ones in this. At this very moment, millions of people - all across this planet - are choosing to stand and fight. For months now, you've heard stories about battles in London, Paris, Moscow, Hong Kong, and others. The world is fighting back. And while we still have a ways to go before this war is over and Skynet is vanquished for good, that day is coming."

More nods of approval from the crowd. He was getting there.

"None of this would be possible if we didn't have something to believe in," he went on, "You chose to believe in me. To trust me. And I, in turn, chose to believe in you. To believe that you could stand as one united species and that we could take back our homes, our freedoms, and our lives.

"I still believe in you. I have never stopped and I never will stop believing. Because belief is what has brought us here today. It is why we are still alive. Why we have done what many once thought was impossible."

He paused briefly as he prepared to deliver the finale.

"And now, standing here before you, I ask this: Do you believe in me? Do you - the men and women whom I believe in - do you still believe in me?"

At first there was silence. No one spoke or even moved.

Then from somewhere deep within the crowd, a soft but firm voice was heard:

"I do!"

Connor recognized the speaker: Genny Shaw, the small, nervous Tech Sergeant who'd he spoken with earlier. The only other person standing here besides himself and Kara Thrace who knew what was inside the secret facility.

Another voice from the crowd shouted out: "So do I!"

"Count me in too!" A third voice echoed.

Colonel Pilgrim joined in. "I'm with you too!"

"Hell, yeah!" Kara Thrace shouted and pumped her fist.

At once, everyone began shouting and roaring their approval. By the dozens, they raised their fists and held their weapons high in the air, shaking them enthusiastically, their courage and resolve renewed.

Connor smiled approvingly. "Stand strong, stand together," he said, once the cheering had died down a bit, "Stand and fight for what you believe in. Do that, and nothing can overcome you. Not Skynet. Not its machines. Not whatever it has to throw at as us. And whatever happens - whether it be today, tomorrow, or beyond - I am proud of all of you. That will never change."

The cheering from crowd began again, even louder this time.

Quite satisfied, Connor stepped down off the humvee. He looked at Kara and Colonel Pilgrim. Kara grinned and gave him the thumbs up. Pilgrim merely nodded approvingly. "Nice speech, John," he complimented.

Connor nodded back. "Thank you. Carry on, Colonel."

Pilgrim straightened himself out and saluted. "Sir." He headed off and began shouting to the troops. "All right, everyone, show's over. Back to your posts! Move it!"

As the crowd dispersed and returned to their duties, Connor and Kara turned their attention once more to the entrance in the cliff wall.

"The techs finished removing all the monowire from the tunnel, right?" Kara asked, a tinge of nervousness evident in her voice.

"I trust that they did. But... just in case they missed something." He gestured at the entrance. "After you, Major."

Kara raised her eyebrows. "Really?"

Connor smirked. "I insist."

Kara smirked back and held her hands up in mock surrender. "All right, Connor. I'll be your bullet shield... this time."

With his Spec Ops commander leading the way, Connor proceeded into the cavern. He immediately took note of Skynet's handiwork. A railroad track ran down the length of the tunnel. Likewise, an array of portable lights had been mounted to the ceiling. They flickered constantly, but provided just enough light to see.

Glancing up at the ceiling, Connor noticed numerous rocky stubs where stalagmites had once existed before being cleaved off by machinery. He also spotted pockets of crystal, limestone, and other mineral deposits scattered along the walls and ceiling. It seemed this cave was not entirely of Skynet's creation. It had once been a natural formation, a product of nature, before Skynet had come in and transformed it to suit its demands for efficiency and uniformity. He wondered if anyone had stepped foot in here before the war. Whether people had once come here looking for adventure and discovery.

Briefly, he imagined little children running down this tunnel, having wandered in here out of curiosity. Their innocent, high pitched giggles and shrieks of excitement echoed in his mind. Then had come Judgment Day and those same children found themselves alone, fighting for their very survival.

Connor pushed these grim thoughts aside as he and Kara moved further down the tunnel. By now, the natural formations had disappeared and given way to metallic plating, support beams, and electrical conduit piping. The lights on the ceiling also glowed brighter and pulsated with energy. Skynet's machines had carved this passage out of solid rock. That explained the railway track running through the tunnel. The debris would have had to be transported away by automated carts.

At last, they came to a heavy metal door with a wheel-lock, resembling the door to a bank vault. A reprogrammed Terminator stood guard in front. It looked at Connor and cocked its head slightly. "General Connor," it stated monotonically.

Connor nodded affirmatively. "Marcus."

"Marcus!" Kara exclaimed happily.

The Triple-Eight turned its head toward her. "Kara Thrace," it acknowledged. Its expression didn't change, but somehow Connor got the feeling that if it had been human, it would have smiled.

"Glad you're here, Marcus," Kara chortled. "I've got a feel we're gonna need your help today."

"Yes. My assistance will be required for this mission," Marcus replied matter-of-factly.

"Open the door, please, Marcus," Connor ordered.

"Yes, General." He turned around and began slowly rotating the wheel lock on the door

Connor noticed Kara staring at Marcus's back, her eyebrows furrowed in contemplation. She gave Connor a sideways glance, her face a mixture of intrigue and understanding. No doubt she was wondering if Marcus was the one they were sending back. He turned away, deliberately avoiding her gaze - a move that would likely "confirm" her belief.

He didn't enjoy having to deceive her, but it was necessary. He knew that Kara Thrace had a deep friendship with the Reese brothers and that Derek's disappearance would have made her extremely protective of Kyle. The last thing he needed right now was his Spec Ops Commander distracted during the mission.

Marcus finished unlocking the door and pulled it open. Connor and Kara stepped through and found themselves standing inside a massive dome-shaped chamber made of reinforced steel and concrete. An array of computer terminals, monitors, and power conduits ran along the curved walls. Multiple repair stations and weapons racks had also been set up around the room to aid the endoskeletons that had been stationed here. At the center of the chamber lay a great circular platform, nearly thirty feet in diameter, with pulsating red LEDs aligning its circumference. A magnetic lift used for transporting construction equipment and supplies to and from the facility below. It was the only way in and out.

Kara whistled out loud. "Gotta hand it to the machines. They certainly know how to build a secret base from scratch."

"And this is just the front desk," Connor added.

He looked around. The chamber was a flurry of activity. Twenty-six handpicked Tech Com soldiers milled about, engaged in various activities. A third of them - those that belonged to Kara Thrace's Spec Ops division - were busy checking their ammunition and inspecting their weapons. The rest of them - the technicians and engineers - swarmed all over the lift, hard at working bringing it back online, or else were attempting to hack the various computers around the room.

On the far side of the chamber, a pair of reprogrammed Terminators stood next to a cluster of security monitors. One of the machines watched the monitors closely, while the other diligently observed the activity of the humans. Silent sentinels, they stood watch, unattached and unresponsive to the looks of suspicion and hostility given by their human "colleagues."

Glancing at a pair of soldiers standing nearby, Connor overheard their conversation. It seemed the two felt that their "allies" would be much more useful as target practice than as guards. He cleared his throat loudly, startling them both. Realizing he'd been listening and seeing the stern look on his face, the two soldiers hastily got back to work.

Connor turned away without saying a word. He wouldn't have actually reprimanded the soldiers. It had been hard enough getting people to trust each other. Getting them to trust these soulless killing machines that had only days ago been murdering their friends and family would be utterly futile. Besides, he didn't need them to trust the machines. He just needed everyone - humans and machines - to do their jobs. The simple fact was that the Resistance needed every weapon they could get their hands on if they were to defeat Skynet. That included captured Terminators. By now, most people in the Resistance had come to accept this fact, and to tolerate the usage of these machines.

Still, Connor mused, it was a good thing that no one knew about his secret dealings with Cameron's special "friend" this past year.

His attention was drawn to a dark haired woman approaching him. She was fitted with battle armor like everyone else, but her jumpsuit, unlike the olive green and grey uniforms of the Resistance, was as pitch black as her hair. The markings of a DEIMOS agent.

The woman snapped a crisp salute. "General Connor, sir."

Connor saluted back. "Operative Brice. I'm glad you could make it." He glanced sideway at Kara who was staring daggers at the dark-suited woman. He cleared his throat loudly. "Ahem... Major?"

Kara forced an unconvincing smile. "Yeah," she said, her voice strained in an effort to stay pleasant. "We certainly are glad, aren't we?"

The woman nodded to Kara but didn't smile. "Good to see you too, Thrace."

"Where's your bodyguard, Agent Brice? I don't see him."

"Ash won't be joining us today, I'm afraid. It's been deployed elsewhere."

"Really? Well, don't worry. My team and I will be down there with you, though we might be spread a bit thin though." Starbuck's voice was low and on the edge of threatening. "Still, if you run into some sort of trouble, just give me a call and we'll find you... as fast as possible."

Brice showed no reaction. "I appreciate your concern, Major," she said stiffly, "but I can take care of myself. Thank you."

Kara's smile evaporated. Apparently, it was just too much effort to hold it. "I should go," she said brusquely. "Talk to my team. Make sure they're all in order."

Connor gave her a nod. "Go ahead, Starbuck. I'll be with you shortly."

She quickly shuffled away. Brice didn't move, but she followed Kara with her eyes briefly before looking to Connor once more.

"You're certain she'll work with me?" she asked.

"She knows what's at stake here, Veronica. She won't let personal things get in the way."

Brice glanced over her shoulder, as if making sure no one was watching them, then leaned forward. "Did you ever tell her? The real reason for the-"

"No," Connor said, cutting her off. "And it would make no difference. Not to this mission anyway."

"I see. I just thought it might-"

"Focus on the facility, Agent Brice. You understand what we're looking for, correct?"

Brice nodded. "Yes, sir."

"I'm counting on you, Veronica. There's no room for mistakes here."

At that point, one of the engineers announced that the lift was back online. The red LEDs aligning the platform's edge turned green one by one. The machinery around it began to hum and pulsate with power.

_At last_, thought Connor.

"Everyone get to the lift," he ordered. "Thrace, your team's with me. We're going in first. Engineers and techs are next in line. Wait for the signal. Sergeant Major Sumner, you and the demolition squad will stay up here and hold the fort while we're gone. Move it, people! On the double!"

A chorus of _"Yes, sir!"_ reverberated throughout the chamber.

He nodded to Brice. "You'll be with the engineering team, Brice. Get into position."

"Sir." The DEIMOS agent saluted, then headed towards the elevator where the infiltration team had already begun to gather.

Connor scanned the moving crowd until he spotted Kyle Reese. As the rest of the Spec Ops team got into position on the lift, Connor walked over and placed his hand on Kyle's shoulder, holding him back.

Kyle turned around. Their eyes met.

"You all right, Master Sergeant?" Connor asked, after a beat.

Kyle sighed. "All things considered, yeah... I guess."

"Excellent." Connor looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping, then whispered, "Just remember, you have to tell Sarah that J-Day is 1997, not 2011. That's _very_ important."

"Understood."

"Good man." Connor patted him on the shoulder. "Stick close to me."

Kyle nodded. "Yes, sir."

Together they stepped on to the lift to join the other Spec Ops troops, already in place. Kara Thrace was waiting for them at the center of the lift.

She grinned at Kyle. "Ready to kick some ass, kid?"

Kyle grinned back. "Aren't I always, Starbuck?"

Kara nodded to Connor as he and Kyle got into position. "Ready and waiting, sir."

Connor nodded back. "Let's get this show on the road, then. Sal, send us down."

"Yes, sir." The technician manning the lift controls went to work.

This was it. Underneath his feet lay Skynet's facility, the time machine, and Kyle Reese's destiny. There was no turning back now.

Connor took a deep breath.

_Hang in there, Mom. Dad's coming for you._

**To Be Continued...**

* * *

A/N: Next chapter, in the present day, Kara and Sarah head off to meet the Engineer. Kara talks about the Topanga Mission (yes, more Future War flashbacks). And yes, the Engineer's identity is revealed. (Hint: The Engineer was actually one of the characters who appeared in this chapter).

A/N2: The next chapter is incredibly long, but will be out probably in a couple of weeks. Again, thank you for all your patience.

A/N3: Yes, that's definitely a nod to _Supernatural_ in the title.


	71. I'm Sick Of This Place

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: Sorry this took so long, but this was an extremely long chapter to write (my longest chapter yet, in fact!). It's also probably full of grammar and spelling mistakes, so please be sure to point any out if you see any. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 71 - I'm Sick Of This Place**

* * *

**Los Angeles - ****Present Day  
Charley Dixon's Lighthouse  
****Thursday, May 21, 2009  
1:03 PM  
**

Sarah Connor slammed her palms down on the kitchen table. "I'm only going to say this one more time, John Connor," she growled, "You are _not_ going to Sharpeston with me. Whoever or whatever this Engineer is, he talks to _me_ first before he gets anywhere _near_ you."

John protested, "Cameron said the Engineer would recognize me. She didn't say anything about you or Starbuck."

"Right now I'm not putting much credence into anything Cameron has to say," Sarah replied pointedly.

John opened his mouth to argue again but Sarah cut him off.

"This is _not_ a debate," she barked. "You're lucky we're even doing this much. Now let me be perfectly clear: You go with Charley to the safe house and wait. You are not to leave or contact anyone while you are there. You stay put and wait for Starbuck and I to get back."

She folded her arms across her chest in a sign of finality. "Am I perfectly clear?" she asked, her tone controlled but still conveying plenty of menace.

John had no reply. Unable to think of a rebuttal, his eyes shift sideways to Kara Thrace, issuing a silent, desperate call for backup. The move did not escape Sarah's attention and she promptly fixed Kara with a glare that would frighten a Terminator.

Starbuck got the message. She shook her head apologetically at John.

Frustrated, John looked across the table at Charley Dixon, standing next to Sarah. He too shook his head. "Your mother's right, John. You can't go. It's too dangerous."

John rolled his eyes and gave an exasperated sigh. "All right, _fine_," he relented.

Satisfied, Sarah allowed herself to relax a bit before speaking again. "While we're gone, I need you to look at the information Cameron gave us about SPECTER and Project Salvation. Also, did you finish hacking the rest of that computer we took from Kaliba?"

"Yeah, with a little help from the Cylons."

"Good. Then look through whatever's on there too. We'll need as much intel as possible when we get to Zeira Corp. Like Cameron said, if we can't stop Weaver from uploading the Turk into that satellite, then we'll need to find a way to take out the satellite itself."

"Explain to me again why your, uh, _alien_ friends up there in their _spaceship_ can't just blow this thing up?" Charley asked.

"Like we said, the Cylons aren't going to get involved," said Kara. "This isn't their planet, so they won't do anything. Not unless there's an actual war."

Charley stared at her, suspicion evident. "But... _you're_ involved, aren't you?"

Kara raised an eyebrow. "We've been over this before. I'm not a Cylon. I'm human," she said curtly.

"But this still isn't your world," Charley said. "You weren't _born_ here, right? How did you end up in all of this?"

"Same way _you_ did. Shit happens."

"But why do you even _want_ to help us? Why do you care what happens here-"

Sarah placed a hand on his shoulder. "It doesn't matter why, Charley. She's here to help us. Alien or not, we can count on her. Just like I can count on you to watch John while we're gone."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kara nod to her appreciatively. Sarah nodded back in acknowledgement.

Charley didn't appear convinced, but he nodded anyway. "All right, fine."

John spoke up, "All of this is pointless anyway. The Cylons didn't give us anything to contact them with, so we can't even talk to them."

"I don't suppose we can consult ET for tech support?" Charley muttered dryly.

A confused Kara Thrace stared at Sarah. "I don't get it... Was that a joke?"

Holding back a laugh, Sarah just shook her head. "Forget it. Let's just focus on the Engineer, all right?"

She returned her attention to John. "If Starbuck and I are not at the warehouse by midnight, then assume we're not coming at all. You'll have to find a way to stop Weaver without us. _Do not_ come to Sharpeston looking for us. Don't argue with me, John," she said sharply when he opened his mouth to protest. "You know what needs to be done."

John sighed and nodded, this time more sincerely. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"Don't use your cell phone either. Not unless it's an emergency. I don't want to risk the call being intercepted by Weaver or the police."

"Right. Got it."

"Good. Glad to hear it. Now unless anyone else has anything to say, I think we should all get going-"

Charley interrupted, "Actually, Sarah, I don't think _you_ or anyone should go at all. You said it yourself. This whole thing _stinks_ of being a setup."

"I _know_ what I said," Sarah replied tersely, annoyed at the interruption. "But we need to be sure. If this Engineer really does exist and he's out there in Sharpeston waiting for us, we need to find him before Weaver or anyone else gets to him."

"And what if this _is_ a trap?"

Sarah shrugged, as if it were no big deal. "It wouldn't be the first one I've walked into. I'll find a way out."

Kara cleared her throat. "_We'll_ find a way out," she said, a grin spread across her face.

Sarah couldn't help but crack a smile as well. "That's exactly what I meant."

Charley was not so impressed, however.

"And then what happens?" he asked. "If the Engineer's gone or dead, what happens then?"

Kara answered matter-of-factly, "Simple: We go to Zeira Corp and take our chances without him."

Charley rolled his eyes. "_That's_ the plan?"

John shrugged. "We were going to go to Zeira Corp sooner or later."

"You said you wanted to see this through to the end, didn't you?" Sarah said pointedly.

"Yeah, but..." Charley exhaled loudly. "...but I was hoping everyone would come out of it _alive_."

"So do I," said Sarah. "We all do."

A lengthy silence followed during which Charley just stared at her. Standing mere feet away from him, Sarah could see the conflict in his eyes. Turning away from her, he looked up at the ceiling, as though searching for answers. Then he pressed his hands down on the table and gave a resigned sigh.

"All right, Sarah. Do what you have to do. Just be careful."

Pleased that the arguing was over, Sarah nodded. "Thank you. Keep an eye on John. Make sure he doesn't do anything... stupid."

She caught John rolling his eyes again. She knew exactly what he was thinking. After all that had happened in the last couple of weeks, she was still treating him like a child that needed to be babysat. And as much as she wanted to tell him that she knew he how much he'd grown, she just didn't have time right now.

Sarah looked around the table at all those present - John, Starbuck, Charley. All looked back at her, as though expecting her to give some kind of big motivational speech.

They'd have to do without one, she decided. Enough time was wasted already.

"Let's not waste any more time," she said. "We've got jobs to do. Let's move out."

John was the first to speak. "All right. Good luck, Mom," he said evenly.

Gazing into his eyes, Sarah saw something familiar in them: A staunch, unyielding resolve. The same resolve that Kyle Reese had possessed, and the memory of which had been her source of strength for all these years. In that instant, her heart swelled with pride and she felt the sudden urge to burst into tears.

Thankfully, she did not.

Instead, acting as if she had nothing more to say, she gave John a simple nod of acknowledgment. He nodded back and then turned to Kara Thrace.

"Starbuck? Do me a favor and watch her back."

Kara smirked and winked at him. "_No problemo_, kid."

John smirked back. "Nothing but the rain, eh?"

Kara chortled. "Damn right."

He held out his hand. Kara did the same, and bumped his fist. John then left the kitchen without another word.

A perplexed Sarah could only stare at Kara quizzically.

"I'll explain later," Kara said innocently.

"Right..." Sarah turned to Charley. "Keep him safe, Charley."

"I will, Sarah." He moved to leave, but then stopped. "Sarah..." he said, his voice pleading, "come back alive. _Please_. I've lost enough family already."

Sarah saw eyes were filled to the brim with fear. A spasm of guilt jolted her stomach. She knew this had to be killing him. Twice Charley had thought he'd lost her. Now, he was facing the possibility of losing her for a third time.

"I understand, Charley," she whispered. "I'll try."

Charley nodded. "Stay safe, Sarah." Giving her one last look, he followed John out of the kitchen.

Sarah closed her eyes and sighed out loud. Part of her still couldn't believe she'd agreed to go along with this. To actually do something - something incredibly risky - and stupid - based solely on the word of Cameron...

There was plenty of evidence that Cameron's message was a lure and that this was a trap Weaver had concocted. The very fact that Ellison had supposedly smuggled a message out of Zeira Corp right under Weaver's nose was suspect enough. Cameron had been in Weaver's hands for days now. She could have been reprogrammed and forced to send that message. They could be walking into some deep shit.

_But on the other hand,_ she thought with a dark sense of amusement, _we're already in deep shit. Might as well go all the way. _

She opened her eye and picked up her shotgun. After running a quick inspection of the weapon, she slung it over her shoulder.

She turned to Kara Thrace. "Let's go."

Kara nodded and cocked her submachine gun. "Right behind you."

The two women headed outside where the battered, stolen Fed-Ex delivery truck was waiting for them. They arrived just in time to see Charley's van pull out of the driveway and head off down the main road.

Sarah watched it leave, before taking one last look around, admiring the calmness and beauty of the surrounding oceans and rocky cliffs. For a brief moment, she imagined what it would be like to settle down in a place like this. Not just for a few months, but permanently. With her loved ones. Where she could live without having to fear for her life and the life of her son.

Only days ago, she would have dismissed it as a fantasy at best. A delusion at worst. Now, however, that future suddenly seemed like a possibility. She didn't know why it, but somehow it just did.

She tossed her weapon into the back of the battered truck, then got into driver's seat and started the engine. Kara was already inside, riding shotgun. Sarah put the vehicle into gear, and pulled the truck back onto the main road.

"So, Starbuck, are you sure you have no idea who this Engineer is?"

"If I did, I'd have told you by now," said Kara.

Sarah huffed. "I only wish Cameron would have been as forthcoming."

Kara shrugged. "Cameron did say she was ordered not to tell us. Whoever this guy is, Connor obviously kept him under wraps. And honestly, it sounds like something Connor would do."

"Either that or Cameron is lying and this is a trap set up by Weaver," Sarah said darkly.

"Hey at least we won't be surprised." After a beat, Kara added, "Speaking of which, I'm kinda surprised you're actually doing this at all. Two weeks ago, you'd never gone along with something like this. What happened to you, Sarah? What changed?"

"You mean besides the fact that the world is on the brink of God knows what?" Sarah regarded her with a wryly smile. "Believe it or not, it's you."

That caught Kara completely off guard. "_Me_?"

Sarah nodded. "You and the Cylons, the Basestar, the origins of the human race... all of it. I used to think that I knew all the answers. Skynet and Judgment Day and the war. But now it feels like I've barely scratched the surface. I guess you could say that being on the Basestar opened me up to a lot of possibilities. I mean, for one thing, I _never_ thought I'd be hiding on an alien starship crewed by machines that tried to kill Mankind thousands of years ago. Or that I'd feel safer there than anywhere here in the last sixteen years."

Kara made a face. "Ugh... Tell me about it. Everything was too clean. Too comfortable. Too calm. Too shiny. And don't even get me started on those goody-two-shoe toasters. Soooo unbearably polite and courteous. _Bleh_. I think I liked it better when they were trying to kill me."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Were _all_ the people in your civilization this prone to violent tendencies?"

Kara grinned. "Nah. Just me."

"Thank Heavens for that." Sarah paused to think. "But what was it really like for you? Being on the Basestar, I mean?"

For some time, Kara just stared at the windshield, saying nothing.

"It... it wasn't easy," she admitted eventually. "Not at first anyway. I mean, I spent the last four years telling myself that I was never going to see anyone from my past ever again. And then, just as I finally accepted that, the Cylons pop up out of nowhere, and it's like... well, I'm sure _you_ know what it feels like when the past catches up to you."

Sarah nodded in agreement. The unpleasant memories of her discovery and arrest by the authorities just days earlier remained fresh in her mind.

Kara continued, "But after seeing Leoben and Maggie together and hearing how they'd made a new life for themselves, it suddenly felt less like being in the past, and more like catching up on old friends. Well, not really _friends_, but still... they _changed_. And in ways I never thought possible. I mean, Racetrack and a Cylon - in love. _Married_. I sure as hell didn't see _that_ one coming."

"Sounds like we _both_ had an eye opening experience up there," Sarah mused.

"I guess so. Anyway, once I realized I wasn't actually living in my past, I felt a lot less... well, I guess you could say, _burdened_. That let me tie up a few loose ends and get a certain amount of closure to my old life."

Sarah smiled kindly. "I'm glad you found it. By the way, speaking of closure, you never finished that story you were telling Maggie and me about Kyle. The mission when he was sent back."

Kara's mouth quirked. "You want me to?"

Sarah shrugged. "Might as well. It's going to be a while before we get to Sharpeston."

Kara took a deep breath. "All right then... Well, uh, after we secured the surface of the Topanga base where the time machine was being held, Connor led a small team down below. He left a few men to guard the lift, then took all the engineers and computer techs to the Computer Core chamber in order to get the time machine back online. The rest of us were sent to secure the rest of the base. We set up a checkpoint, then split up into two groups. I led one group, while Captain Campbell took another."

"Was Kyle with you?" Sarah asked.

"No. I had him stay behind at the checkpoint for his own safety. Connor had told me to keep him safe."

"Did you suspect anything at that point? I mean about the mission?"

Kara shook her head. "I'd been told that we were sending a reprogrammed Terminator back. I had no idea we were sending a person, much less Kyle. If I had..." She trailed off. "Well, never mind. Anyway, as it turned out, we didn't have to deal with any of the usual automated defenses. The time travel machine required so much power, it sapped the juice from about everything in that place. But there were still machines lurking around. Leftovers from the garrison stationed there. It was my job to find and kill every last one of them."

"Couldn't have been too hard," Sarah remarked. "For someone like you anyway."

Kara grimaced. "Yeah. That's what _I_ thought at first..."

* * *

**January 16, 2027  
Skynet Facility, Topanga Canyon  
Area Three  
Infiltration time: 35+ hours (Approx)**

_Who the hell said this wouldn't be too hard?_ an irate Kara Thrace thought. _Oh right. I did..._

No automated sentry turrets. No damn sonic pulse mines or annoying electrified floor plating. No irritating monomolecular wire barriers. And yet, the job of securing the base was still time-consuming and tedious, and at times - perilous.

The machines down here, despite being cut off from Skynet, proved to be incredibly stubborn. Almost _humanly_ stubborn. Kara and the other Tech Com Spec Ops troops were finding this out the hard way as they fought firefight after firefight within the dark and narrow corridors of the facility.

At present, she, along with Private Vincent Harris and Specialist Dakota "Kota" Romanolo were engaged in a fierce battle with a particularly vicious pair of T-800 endoskeletons.

With every passing second, the situation grew increasingly dire. The fireteam had been forced to take cover in an alcove on the left side of the corridor. While the alcove provided sufficient cover from the incoming barrages of plasma rifle fire, the Resistance fighters could neither move forward nor retreat without exposing themselves. The machines, meanwhile, were slowly but steadily advancing, all the meantime firing their plasma rifles at their leisure.

Kara winced as a stray bolt of plasma flared by. She could literally smell the air burning away.

She turned to Private Harris, the fireteam's designated marksman and the only one carrying a plasma rifle.

"Vince," she growled, "please tell me you can make a headshot from here."

Harris shook his head apologetically. "Not without having to poke my head out there. And the metals have got this whole corridor covered. No way I can line up the shot in time. Sorry, ma'am."

"Frak..." she cursed under her breath.

Out on the open surface, they'd have cooked both these ugly toasters by now. Unfortunately, down here in these narrow, badly lit corridors with only the occasional alcove and support beams to take cover behind, there wasn't much room to maneuver against their better armed and armored enemies. And while the Spec Ops troops knew how to fight under these sort of conditions, a prolonged firefight like this was bound to end badly.

More bolts of plasma exploded around the humans as the machines continued their relentless assault. Dakota Romanolo boldly leaned out from behind cover and fired a couple bursts from her plasma submachine gun. It was little more than a token gesture of resistance, though. Her weapon just didn't pack enough punch to do any significant damage.

The specialist quickly ducked back into the alcove to avoid a barrage of retaliatory fire. "What about a sparkler, Starbuck?" she suggested. "Take out their IR and visual optics for a while. That oughta let us get the jump on 'em."

Kara considered this. "That just _might_ work, Kota... What do you think, Harris?"

Harris flinched as another plasma bolt impacted the edge of the alcove, sheering off shards of metal. "I don't know, Starbuck... They'll still have their motion detectors. Even if we blind them, the moment we start shooting, we'll give our position away. I could take out one, but I'm not so sure about both."

"Someone is gonna have to draw their fire then," said Kara.

Kota raised her hand. "I'll take care of that."

Kara looked at her. "You sure about that, Kota?"

The young girl grinned wickedly. "Just watch me."

Kara smirked at her eager subordinate. Under five feet tall, slim as a nail, hair the color of blood, and only fourteen years old, Dakota Romanolo was one of the youngest and smallest members of Tech Com. Neither her age nor her size made her any less of a fighter, however. She was just as fierce and as dedicated as any other soldier. Kara had witnessed Kota literally crawl between the treads of HK Tanks undetected and stick remote detonator charges onto their undersides.

"All right, then," Kara said, nodding her head with approval, "let's get this show on the road." She began digging through her pockets and pouches. "Harris, wait for my signal before you start shooting," she instructed. "We're only getting one shot at this."

Harris nodded. "I won't let you down, ma'am."

"I know you won't."

Kara produced a cylindrical shaped grenade bound in duct tape. As typical of Resistance weaponry, it had been assembled by hand from various scavenged parts.

"Everyone, ready?" she asked.

Her two comrades nodded. "Ready."

"Ok. Let's do this."

She pulled the pin from the grenade.

_"Fire in the hole!"_

She hurled the bomb around the corner and down the hallway. The grenade sailed in an arc, landing a good ten yards away. It bounced twice against the metal floor and came to rest just a few feet away from the machines. The endoskeletons ceased firing and stared down to inspect the object.

Half a second later, it exploded in a brilliant shower of white-hot sparks and burning shards of magnesium and thermite. The two T-800 endoskeletons reeled backwards and began twitching their heads. Though the blast itself had barely singed their armored plating, the intensity of the light and heat overwhelmed their optical sensors and infrared targeting systems, leaving the machines blind and confused.

Kara barked, "Go, Kota! Go!"

Immediately Kota sprang forth from the alcove and into the open. With a yell, she sprayed both T-800s with fire from her plasma submachine gun. The blinded machines suffered only minor damage, but enough to warrant their attention. They turned in the direction of their attacker and returned fire. The teenage girl dove out of the line of fire and into another alcove on the opposite side of the corridor.

The machines tracked her movement on their motion detectors and continued firing in her direction. In doing so, they turned their attention away from Kara and Harris.

That was exactly what Kara had been waiting for. She tapped Harris on the shoulder.

"Quick!" she hissed. "Take 'em down! Now!"

"On it!" Harris stepped out from cover, took aim with his plasma rifle and pulled the trigger.

A bluish purple bolt of superheated plasma burst from the muzzle of his weapon and speared the nearest endoskeleton in the side of its head, instantly incinerating its CPU. The machine went slack and the plasma rifle fell from its grip. It sank to its knees, then pitched forward and crumpled lifelessly to the floor.

The other T-800 registered the sudden termination of its colleague. It started to turn around to confront the new attacker.

"Vince!" Kara shouted warningly. Harris reacted instantaneously. He swiveled his rifle a few inches to the left and fired again.

The second shot tore straight through the machine's right eye. The right half of its metal skull split open in an eruption of sparks and smoke. The electrical systems went haywire, sending the machine into violent spasms. The automaton staggered about like a drunk. Unable to control its motor functions, it fired its plasma rifle at random. Everyone dropped to the ground, fearing they'd be hit by a stray bolt.

Thankfully, the machine's seizures soon stopped and the weapon ceased firing. A second later, the T-800 collapsed alongside its companion and hit the floor with a dull metallic thud.

Kara stood back up and waited for the smoke to start clearing. She then scanned the two downed machines with her tactical eyepiece. The scan quickly confirmed that both machines were offline - permanently.

Kara let out a sigh of relief, before nodding in approval.

"Nice work, Harris. You too, Kota."

Kota chortled, "My pleasure."

Harris grinned. "Anything for you, Starbuck."

Kara tapped her radio headset. "Bravo Leader, this is Fox Leader. Area Three is secure. All hostiles eliminated. Repeat, all hostiles in Area Three eliminated. No casualties. Over."

A few seconds passed. Then a man's gruff voice replied over the radio: _"Bravo Leader here. Nice to know you're still with us, ma'am."_

"Likewise, Campbell. What's your status?"

"_Bravo Party is still clearing out Area Two. No casualties so far, but the metals aren't making it easy."_

"Do you need assistance?"

"_Negative. We've got things under control." _

"Acknowledged, Bravo Leader," Kara stated. "Fox Party will be heading back to the Checkpoint. Call us if you find anything or need any help. Good hunting, Bravo Party. Out."

She switched her radio to a different channel.

"Reese, this is Fox Leader. You there? Over."

"_Roger, Fox Leader. This is Reese at Checkpoint. Glad to hear your voice, Starbuck."_

"How are things going on back there, kid?"

_"Uh, situation's normal... No sign of any hostile activity." _

"Good to hear. Fox Party is finished with Area Three. We're heading back to your position now. Copy. Over."

"_Copy that, Fox Leader. I'll be waiting for you."  
_

"Great. See you in a bit, kid. Fox Leader, out."

She turned to Kota and Harris. "All right, let's get back to the Checkpoint. Kota, take point."

Kota nodded. "You got it, boss."

The team retraced their steps, following a trail of flares, fluorescent spray, and destroyed T-800 endoskeletons. Without any obstacles or machines blocking their path, it only took twenty minutes for them to reach the Checkpoint, which had been set up in a small chamber housing a redundant power terminal.

As they approached the Checkpoint, however, they suddenly stopped dead in their tracks. They heard familiar high pitched whining - the sound of a plasma weapon being armed. Then they heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching.

The trio hurriedly pressed themselves up against the wall.

Kara's stomach lurched unpleasantly as a humanoid figure's outline registered on her tactical eyepiece. The combat software further revealed that the figure was armed with an M-75 plasma rifle.

Then a pair of glowing red eyes flashed out from the darkness, confirming everyone's worst fears.

"Metal!" snarled Harris.

He started to lift his plasma rifle, but Kara grabbed his arm.

"Hold your fire!" she commanded. "Everyone, hold your fire!"

Her companions held their fire, but kept their weapons raised. Kara herself had her plasma SMG held at hip level, ready to fire.

Taking a deep breath, she hollered out toward the figure, "Grasshopper!"

Her voice echoed down the corridor. A tense moment of silence followed.

Then a familiar voice replied: "_Indigo."_

Kara exhaled with relief and lowered her weapon. She signaled for Kota and Harris to do the same. They complied, though somewhat reluctantly.

The Terminator stepped forward from the darkness. Its face soon materialized fully onto the HUD of Kara's tactical eyepiece, confirming its identity.

She sighed. "Marcus."

"Major Thrace," Marcus acknowledged.

Kara's relief quickly gave way to annoyance. "Gods damn it, Marcus!" she berated. "Don't do that! We could have shot you!"

"It was not my intention to startle you, Major. I apologize," stated Marcus, though he did not sound apologetic at all.

"Right, right," Kara muttered. Somehow, she managed to crack a smile.

Her comrades weren't nearly as hospitable. Kota appeared visibly uncomfortable. Harris stared at the reprogrammed Triple-Eight, an expression of loathing and distrust etched across his face.

Kara decided not to make a deal of it. There were far more important issues at hand.

"What are you doing here, Marcus? I thought you were with Connor."

"I am," said the Triple-Eight in a matter-of-fact tone.

"What do you mean, you are? Connor isn't here, he's all the way back-"

She stopped mid-sentence. General John Connor had just emerged from around the corner.

"Oh..." She and the others hastily composed themselves and stood at attention.

"General," she said respectfully.

General Connor nodded. "Major."

Connor was accompanied by a familiar face. Kara smiled warmly at the welcome sight. "Hey, kid."

Kyle Reese smiled back. He seemed oddly tense, however.

Then a dark haired woman in a black jumpsuit stepped out from behind the corner. Kara's insides suddenly grew cold. She felt a twinge of pain in her stomach which had nothing to do with the blow she'd received there earlier that day.

Unwanted memories flowed through her mind of her previous encounter with this woman, Agent Veronica Brice of the Resistance's secretive DEIMOS intelligence group, two years earlier at Fort Leopard. She remembered how Brice had threatened to disband her first Spec Ops team, the Swamp Foxes. She remembered the look of horror and shock on Billy Wisher's face after he'd been subjected to some unknown torture at the hands of Agent Brice. She remembered confronting Brice over the incident, leading to an altercation which had ended with her being nearly killed by the DEIMOS agent's T-600 bodyguard and the fate of the Swamp Foxes seemingly being sealed.

While General Koontz had ultimately intervened and forced Brice to allow the Swamp Foxes to remain intact, Kara could never forget how close this woman had come to destroying her in a way no enemy had ever done. How very nearly she'd lost the thing she'd cared about the most.

Kara suspected that this woman had ties to Colonel Sloan (now _General_ Sloan she had last heard). She further suspected that Sloan had sent Brice to punish her for not "loaning" him Cameron, and that Brice had had every intention of disbanding Kara's team from the start. Unfortunately, she'd never been able to prove this. In fact, she'd never brought it up with anyone before.

She understood why they needed DEIMOS on this mission. The clandestine agency had access to numerous top level Skynet command codes and security clearances. Without that information, the Tech Com teams down here would have never gotten into the Computer Core Chamber. They'd certainly never be able to reactivate the time travel technology needed to send their operative into the past to stop Skynet's agent from assassinating Sarah Connor.

What she _didn't_ understand was why out of all the DEIMOS agents available, Connor had selected Veronica Brice for this mission - especially given that he knew full well what had transpired between the two of them at Fort Leopard.

Whatever Agent Brice's purpose, whatever Connor said, her presence here meant trouble.

Determined not to show any weakness, Kara stood her ground and stared at Brice. The DEIMOS agent's face betrayed nothing. She seemed impassive yet alert and attentive. Had Kara not known better, she might have thought that Marcus wasn't the only machine in the room.

Looking away from Brice for the moment, Kara turned her attention back to General Connor.

"Sorry for asking, but what's going on, sir?" she asked. "I thought you were working at the Computer Core with all the techs and engineers. Has there been some change in plans?"

"No," Connor said calmly. "Everything's still going according to plan. I just need an update on your progress securing the base."

Kara found that explanation a bit odd seeing as how he could have just called her over the radio for that. She nevertheless began her report: "We've, uh, just finished clearing Area Three. Campbell's team is still cleaning out Area Two. No casualties. We've covered the corridors from-"

Connor raised a hand, indicating he'd heard enough. "Thank you, Major. Good work. I'll read the details in your report later."

Kara nodded. "Understood, sir."

Then to her displeasure, Agent Brice stepped forward, hands behind her back, an icy expression plastered across her face. "Major, did you happen to find anything of value?" she asked.

The question seemed reasonable enough.

"No. We didn't find anything unusual or interesting," Kara stated, her tone kept at a low monotone.

"You're certain?" asked Brice, as though addressing a child.

Very quickly, Kara's temper began to flare. "Yes. I'm _certain_."

The DEIMOS agent persisted in her inquiry. "What about the CPUs from any of Terminators you destroyed?"

"Afraid not," said Kara. "My standing orders are to vaporize the chips for good measure. That way there's no way they can get up and bite someone in the ass."

"So you didn't even _try_ to take any CPUs intact?" Brice showed no visible reaction, but her tone contained a hint of irritation.

"My orders were to secure the base and destroy the enemy." Kara strained to keep her tone neutral. "Not go rounding up toys."

Brice's reply was as cold as ever. "I'm not talking about _toys_, Thrace. I'm talking about wasting precious opportunities for valuable intelligence."

Kara gritted her teeth. "I prefer not to risk the lives of my troops unnecessarily. And if you don't like that, you can just-"

"That's _enough_. Both of you."

General Connor's voice was low but it had the effect of a judge's gavel. Both women shut up. Kara stared down a bit, her face contorted with anger and embarrassment. Brice seemed a little unnerved but otherwise showed no expression.

Connor let his words hang in the air before speaking again. "We have jobs to do. Brice, the Major will direct her troops as she sees fit. She answers to me, not you or anyone else in DEIMOS. And Thrace, the recovery of CPUs is not your priority, but I agree with Agent Brice. We shouldn't waste intelligences opportunities so casually. So, if you happen to have the opportunity to recover any CPUs, then by all means, take it. Now, are we all clear on everything?"

"Yes, sir," Kara and Brice responded simultaneously. Neither woman looked at each other.

Connor appeared satisfied. "Good. If you'll excuse me..." He raised his hand to his radio earpiece and turned around. "Martinez, this is Connor. You read me?... What's our status?... You're certain?... Excellent. Then we can move on to the next step... I'll be with you shortly. Connor out."

He turned back to Kara. "I need to get back to the Computer Core. You seem to have things under control out here, Starbuck. Carry on."

"Sir." Kara snapped a salute.

Connor saluted back, then turned to leave. He paused briefly next to Kyle. Looking the young soldier in the eye, he said softly, "Get some rest, Master Sergeant. You'll need it."

Kyle nodded. "Yes, sir."

Connor clapped him on the shoulder. "Good man." He pulled his hand off and looked to the others. "Marcus. Agent Brice. Let's go."

"Yes, General." Agent Brice turned around and headed off with Connor, not even sparing Kara a glance. Not that Kara was heartbroken.

Marcus lingered for a second. He cocked his head and gave a nod to Kara. She nodded back respectfully. Marcus then turned and followed Connor and Brice down the corridor.

"Soooooo... you, uh, wanna tell us what that was all about, Starbuck?" Private Harris asked once Connor and the others were gone.

Kara bristled. "What what was all about?"

"You and that DEIMOS woman," Harris said. "For a moment there, it looked like you were gonna pound her skull in."

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter anymore."

"You sure about that? 'Cause it kinda looked like-"

She glared at him. "Harris..."

He raised his hands defensively. "Hey, hey, all I'm saying is that if it came to a fight, I'd put my money on you."

Kara's glare turned into a grim smile. "Thanks..." She turned to Kyle. "You all right, kid?"

Kyle nodded. "Yeah... yeah, I'm fine."

Kara sensed there was something _off_ about him. He seemed unusually distracted. Probably thinking about Derek again.

Or was it something else?

She decided not to ask him about it... yet.

"Come on," she said, patting him on the shoulder, "let's get something to eat."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, the group was helping themselves to dinner: Saltine crackers, black beans, tinned spam, and canned fruit. The spam and beans had been heated up on a hotplate wired to a salvaged power cell. Not having eaten in nearly two whole days, the four Spec Ops soldiers devoured their food like a pack of wolves.

"You know what I could use after this shit is all over?" said Kota, speaking through a mouthful of lukewarm spam. "A nice cold beer."

Harris wagged his finger admonishingly. "Ah, ah," he teased. "Not old enough for that, Kota."

She swallowed the meat. "What? Old enough to hold a gun and be shot at, but not to drink?"

"Hey, don't talk back to your elders, young lady."

"Hey, fuck you," sneered the indignant fourteen year old.

Harris snickered. "Get back to me in four years and we'll talk."

Kota snarled and threw her remaining spam at him, hitting him in the face.

Everyone laughed. Everyone except Kyle. He seemed oddly quiet and more interested in his mashed black beans and spam than in the conversation.

Harris turned to Kara. "So really, Starbuck," he said, "what the hell are we doing down here? Don't tell us you don't know anything."

"Yeah, come on, Starbuck," Kota prodded. "Connor had to have told you _something_."

"Even if he did, I wouldn't tell you," Kara replied, between bites of saltines and pear slices.

"Why not?" complained Kota. "Don't you trust us?"

"Trust has nothing to do with this."

"Then what _does_ this have to do with?"

Kara washed the cracker crumbs down with the remaining juice from her empty can of fruit.

"Let's just say it would spoil all the fun," she said, smacking her lips.

Kota rolled her eyes and snorted. "You call _this_ fun? We're down in this hole, getting shot at by metals in the dark, while Connor is off doing God knows what. If I die down here, I'd at least like to know _what_ I'm dying for."

Harris leaned forward "Really, Starbuck. What is this place? Why does Connor want it so badly? We've been down here almost two days and I haven't seen jack squat that's worth this crap-"

"Ok, that's enough," said Kara curtly. "Stop whining, both of you."

She leaned back and sighed to herself. As much as she'd like to tell them the truth about what was going on here, Connor had already made it clear to her that she wasn't to discuss the exact nature of the mission with anyone. And quite honestly, she wasn't sure if anyone would believe her. She was still having a hard time understanding it herself. A time machine? She knew Skynet was technologically advanced, but time travel? For real?

_Hey, someone or something transported _you_ thousands of years into the future,_ a voice whispered in the back of her head.

_Don't remind me_, another voice said dryly.

Kota wasn't ready to give up. "What about you, Kyle?" she asked. "Connor say anything to you?"

Kyle Reese, who hadn't said a word since dinner began, shook his head. "No," he said flatly, staring down at his food.

"Have you tried _asking_ him?"

"Not really."

"Why the hell not?" Harris demanded, joining Kota's attack.

Kyle finally looked up. His expression was neutral, but Kara could see the tension in his face. "Because it doesn't matter."

"Doesn't matter?" Harris scoffed. "The fuck it doesn't! Look at how many people have _died_ because of Connor's _obsession_ with this place. Hell, your _brother_ went missing trying to find this place-"

_Clang!_

The metal spoon Kyle had been eating with fell to the floor with a clatter.

"Don't... even... go there," he growled with barely contained fury.

Harris was taken aback. "Look, Kyle, I'm just saying-"

Kyle interrupted, "I _know_ what you're saying. And I don't want to hear it. Ok?"

Kota began to protest, "He's only trying to help you-"

"Why don't you two just shut your mouths?" Kyle snapped.

"Hey, don't blame us for what happened to Derek!" Kota shot back. "We didn't send him out there. We didn't lose him-"

Sensing imminent trouble, Kara jumped to her feet.

"All right, lock it down, _now!_" she barked fiercely. "Next person who opens their mouth spends the next month cleaning out rat droppings from the storage lockers!"

Her threat hovered in the air like a storm cloud prepared to shoot lightning. Everyone shrank back a little. No one dared breathe a word.

Kara waited a few seconds before speaking again.

"I know we've lost a lot of good people here," she said, her voice calmer but still stern, "I know some of us think we deserve an explanation as to why they died and why we're here. But this is war. Knowing why we're here isn't going to change _anything_. We're still here. All that matters now is knowing what we're going to do next."

A nervous Kota meekly raised her hand. "And what are we going to do... ma'am?"

Kara stared at her. "We're going to stay alive, we're going to kill anything that tries to kill us, and we're all going home. All of us."

She gazed around at her troops, looking each of them in the eye.

_"Am I right, soldiers?"_

Without hesitation, Kyle, Kota, and Harris all nodded and replied as one: _"Yes, ma'am."_

Kara wanted to smile, but she couldn't. Not now. Instead she folded her arms across her chest.

"Good," she said curtly. "All right, Harris, Kota, I need you two on patrol in the outer corridor."

Harris sputtered. "What? Now?"

Kara glared at him. "Yes. _Now_."

Harris opened his mouth to argue, but Kota kicked him in the shin, shutting him up.

"We're on it," she said obediently.

Kara nodded. "Right. Move out."

"Ma'am." Kota and Harris stood up, gathered their weapons and headed off.

After they had left, Kara turned to Kyle Reese. Her expression softened considerably, as did her tone.

"What's going on, kid? I know Connor wasn't out here just to check in on us. He was talking to you while we were gone, wasn't he?"

Kyle said nothing, but he nodded.

"You wanna talk about it?" asked Kara, hoping to get to the root of this problem.

Kyle just turned away, shaking his head. "Starbuck, please. I-I... I just need... I just need some time alone."

It wasn't the answer Kara was hoping for, but there was little she could do.

"All right," she said gently. "I'll be here if you need me."

"Yeah... thanks..." Kyle mumbled. "I, uh, should clean this place up."

He bent down and started gathering the empty food cans and plates.

Kara retreated into a nearby alcove where her backpack had been stashed. She unclipped her gas mask and extra ammunition, and placed them in a corner. She then sat down next to the backpack and leaned back against the wall.

Much of her life was contained within this frayed and patched backpack that she had carried with her for the last three years. It had five pockets, the largest of which contained her combat equipment: Extra ammunition, smoke grenades, a spare pistol, night vision goggles, a radiation detector, a spare targeting scope, cutting tools, and some climbing rope complete with a grappling hook.

The second-largest pocket contained emergency equipment: A compact portable power generator (stolen from a Skynet supply depot of course), a compass, flares, rations, a spare change of clothes, a portable short range radio, a blanket, and other various survival gear.

The third pocket was for electronics and sensitive technology and materials. Her minicomputer and PDA were stored here, along with a collection of spare parts - some of which she'd stripped from the bodies of Terminators. There were also maps, diagrams, and handwritten notes in here.

The fourth pocket contained her tools of personal hygiene: Toothbrush, toothpaste, dental floss, a bar of soap, a small mirror, a comb, toilet paper, and nail clippers.

The fifth and smallest pocket held her personal belonging: Letters from Becka and Trip, a couple of books she'd found on Earth's history, a crayon drawing a little girl had given her during a visit to one of the refugee camps, a deck of playing cards, and some other miscellaneous artifacts she'd collected from the ruins.

Kara took the opportunity to do some basic maintenance on her plasma SMG. She dismantled the weapon and carefully inspected each component. She then cleaned out all the plasma residue that had accumulated in the ionization chamber. She also recharged the focusing coils using a compact portable generator. She then reassembled the weapon and put it aside.

The task complete, she then decided to catch up on some paperwork. She pulled out her minicomputer and began typing:

_Send directly to: Gen. John Connor  
Date: 01-16-2027.  
__Name: Thrace, Kara. Major. Tech Com. Spec Ops Commander._  
_Concerning: Status update regarding Topanga Canyon operation.  
Mission time: 36 Hours  
Status report follows:  
Area 3 secured by Fox Party  
11 hostile T-800 endoskeletons eliminated in total  
No casualties;  
Fox Party returned to Checkpoint  
Area 2 still contested... Bravo Party continuing to execute operations... Awaiting results  
Comments: Troops continue to ask why we're here. I haven't told them anything except to keep their mouths shut.  
On a personal note, I myself am still trying to wrap my head around this whole thing_

She suddenly stopped. She'd felt a flash of pain just above her belly. The blow she'd taken there during her earlier scuffle with the damaged endoskeleton still ached, despite the pain medication she'd taken. Coincidentally (or maybe not), it just so happened to be the exact same spot where she'd been hit by a plasma bolt almost a year ago.

She decided to lie down and get some rest. She put her computer aside and dug into her backpack, eventually pulling out a blanket. Like the backpack, it was patched, frayed, and worn from years of use. She spread the blanket out on the cold metal floor and lay down, still wearing her armored vest and weapons. The area may have been secured, but she wanted to be prepared for combat. After all, she was still in enemy territory.

She lay her weary head on the backpack, but could not fall asleep. Although fully clothed and wrapped in the blanket as tightly as possible, she still shivered from the cold. And besides the cold, there was something else that kept her awake. A familiar something that gnawed at her from the inside. A fear that she could never fully dispel.

She remembered her first few weeks as Tech Com's new Spec Ops Commander during which she'd spent many sleepless nights alone, cold, and in doubt - like now. Despite General Connor's confidence in her, many in Tech Com had been skeptical of her abilities. Sure, they'd heard about her, but she was still stepping into some big shoes. And though her actions at Angeles Forest had earned her some credibility, that didn't stop some of the older Tech Com veterans from openly resenting her and questioning why Connor had chosen an outsider rather than one of their own. Only after months of effort and struggle did she finally manage to win the trust and loyalty of the people under her command.

And yet despite all she had accomplished, on some nights she was haunted by the terrifying prospect that one day she might make a mistake and would lose her people's trust.

She shifted her body and gave a restless sigh. It looked like this was going to be another one of those nights.

"Starbuck?"

Surprised, Kara lifted her head up. "Hey, kid."

Kyle was staring down at her with a nervous expression. "Hey, look, I'm, uh, sorry for that little... eh... fit earlier."

Kara gave him a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, kid. It's all good now." She smirked. "Besides, I don't blame you. Honestly, if I'd been in your place, I'd have kicked someone's ass by now."

"Mind if I lie down here?"

"No. Not at all. Go right ahead."

Kyle scooched up, dragging his own blanket with him. He lay down next to her and rested his head against her backpack. Kara felt his hair brush lightly against her cheek. His presence made her feel considerably warmer.

Kyle craned his head to look straight up at the ceiling. "You know what I miss most right now? Besides Derek, I mean?"

"Mmmm..." Kara murmured. "What?"

"A clear night sky."

"Really?"

"Before the war, when Derek and I used to go camping, we'd stare up at the sky at night, looking at the stars and the constellations. And on the Fourth of July, we'd watch the fireworks together. It was _spectacular_."

Kara grinned. "I'll bet it beat sleeping underground."

"Yeah, it did." He shifted his position. "During the first few months after Judgment Day, when Derek and I were living in the ruins, doing whatever we could to survive, sometimes I'd go out at night and look up, hoping to see the stars in the darkness. It was stupid really. There were armed gangs and packs of wild dogs roaming out there. I nearly got myself killed a couple times..."

"You ever see anything?"

"One night, about a year after the bombs fell, I saw this speck of light in sky. A bright twinkling light in the darkness. I thought it was a star." He paused. "But it turned out to be a spotlight from a Hunter Killer. The first one I ever saw."

Kara nodded, recalling her own first close encounter with an HK. "Must have been frightening."

"Yeah... sure was. I didn't know what it was at first. I just knew I couldn't let it see me. So I ran and hid underneath the nearest piece of cover I could find. I stayed there until it left. A few days later, Derek and I began hearing stuff over the radio about giant machines attacking refugee camps, sometimes abducting people, other times just killing them. No one knew what they were or how to stop them."

He sniffled. "I... I never tried looking for stars after that night."

Listening to his story, Kara felt a surge of sorrow for her young comrade. "Couldn't have been easy," she said, "realizing that your world was gone. That all you had left was a nightmare."

"How'd you deal with it?" asked Kyle inquisitively. "You've never told me much about your own past. How you grew up. Where you were when the bombs fell."

Kara twitched uncomfortably and gazed upward at the blank ceiling. "There's not much to say," she said, determined to keep this short and avoid having to lie. "But in short, I grew up in a pretty ugly neighborhood and my life was already in the toilet when everything went to Hell."

"Huh. Lucky you," said Kyle. "Thank you, by the way. For keeping me in the fight these last couple of days. You've been like a big sister to me. I think I might have given up without you."

Kara snorted. "Oh don't give me that crap. You wouldn't have given up." She turned over to face him. "You didn't give up after Judgment Day. You didn't give up at Century. You sure as hell aren't gonna give up now."

Kyle smiled. "Well, thanks anyway."

"You're welcome." Kara paused briefly. "And... thank you too, by the way."

Kyle blinked, surprised. "For what?"

"For everything you did for me when I first joined Tech Com," Kara said softly. "When a lot of people had their doubts about me. You and Derek were always there to back me up no matter how hard things got. I've never told you how much I appreciated that." She smiled. "So, thank you."

Kyle nodded and smiled again. "Yeah, well, you saved my ass at Angeles Forest. I owed you that much. But, you're welcome, Starbuck."

Kara yawned. "You're a good kid, Kyle," she murmured sleepily. "And a hell of a soldier."

"Yeah... you too... The soldier part, I mean... You're definitely not a kid."

"Mmm... You got that right."

Wrapping herself tightly in her blanket, Kara pressed her head down against her backpack, closed her eyes, and finally began to fall into a much needed sleep. Just before her mind slipped into darkness, she thought she felt someone's warm lips pressed themselves against her cheek.

She fell asleep, smiling.

* * *

**Present day - Los Angeles  
En route to Sharpeston...  
**

"He _kissed_ you?"

Kara groaned and rolled her eyes. "On the _cheek_! Hello, _big sister_? Remember?"

"All right, all right, fine. Sorry," Sarah relented. "So, did you suspect anything at that point?"

Kara shook her head. "No. I thought Connor was just keeping tabs on Kyle because of Derek's disappearance. As for Kyle himself, he never revealed anything to me. I still thought we were sending a machine back."

"And that was the last time you ever saw Kyle?"

"In person, you mean?" Kara nodded. "Yeah. It was."

"So when did you- wait, hold on a minute. Let me check something..."

Sarah flipped the truck's radio on and began surfing through the stations.

"_...three more airports have just been shut down with no explanation. That makes a total of twenty-seven nationwide..."_

"_-The Mexican and Canadian borders are now on maximum alert. Still no word as to the status of-"_

"_-sightings of American warships and aircraft along both the Western and Eastern Coasts engaged in unknown activity-"_

"_-authorities in Washington continue to insist that there is no immediate threat of any kind and urge the public to remain calm-"_

"_-It's quite obvious that we're not being told the whole story-"_

"_-confirmation that National Guard and Reserve units in California, Oregon, and Washington State are being mobilized-"_

Having heard quite enough, Sarah switched the radio back off.

Kara grimaced. "This is bad."

Sarah nodded. "What's worse, we _helped_ Weaver make all this possible."

"What choice did we have? We had to take out Kaliba," said Kara. "We just never thought we'd be burned this badly. There's no point in blaming ourselves."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Ourselves? Excuse me? If I recall, I was the only one who voted _against_ working with Weaver."

"But you still went along with it," Kara pointed out.

"I know I did. And that was a mistake. We made a mistake." Sarah let out a heavy sigh. "I just hope we're not about to make another one with Cameron and the Engineer."

"Yeah, me too. Guess we'll find out soon enough."

The truck stopped at a red light. Sarah took the opportunity to continue interrogating Kara.

"So when did you find out the truth about Kyle?"

"Well... uh... It was about six hours later when I got a call from Bravo Party. By then, Kyle wasn't with me anymore. I was told he'd been summoned to the Computer Core Chamber just minutes before. I had no idea what for, but I still didn't suspect anything. And besides I had some more serious issues to deal with... "

Sarah nodded. "Go on."

"Bravo Party had found some kind of locked room in Area Two," Kara explained. "They couldn't get inside so I took Fox Party up there to help them get the door open."

Sarah raised her eyebrows. "Let me guess: You should have left it closed."

"You could say that..."

* * *

**January 17, 2027  
Skynet Facility, Topanga Canyon  
Area Two  
Infiltration time: 42+ hours (Approx)  
**

"_Get it off! Get it off!"_

"Hold still! Hold still!" Kara shouted as she struggled furiously to save her fallen comrade.

Despite her commands, the man continued to thrash about, making it harder for her to hold on to the Skynet Gremlin that had latched onto his face only moments earlier. The hissing, screeching machine continued digging its razor sharp appendages into the flesh around its victim, drawing blood. The man's agonized screams grew louder making it difficult for her to concentrate.

Mere feet away, soldiers from both Bravo Party and Fox Party stood in a semicircle around the doorway leading to the chamber that held the recently uncovered Gremlin nest. A couple troops were attempting to shut the door and reseal the chamber. The others battled furiously to keep the oncoming swarm of spider-like machines from escaping. The sounds of gunfire, shouts, and mechanized screeches only added to the chaos and confusion.

Kara gritted her teeth and tried to shut out all the noise and focus solely on pulling the Gremlin off the man's face. She furiously dug her fingernails in between its joints and continued pulling, grunting and sweating profusely. Finally, she wrenched the machine off its prey.

In response, the Gremlin lashed out at her with its bloodstained razor appendages, slashing at her face, screeching and hissing.

Her first thought was to throw it back into the chamber with the rest of its ilk. A quick glance at the chamber however showed that to be problematic. There were too many people in the way.

Instead, she turned around and hurled the thing down the hall in the opposite direction, away from the chamber and the soldiers. The Gremlin landed on its back, but quickly righted itself up and began scuttling towards her. At less than six feet away from her, it launched itself off the ground, aiming at her face. Kara snapped her plasma SMG up just in time and fired a quick three-shot burst that caught the Gremlin in midair, blowing it to pieces.

Barely had she begun to breathe again, when she heard a shout of triumph from behind.

Looking over her shoulder, Kara was relieved to see that the troops had managed to close the door and seal the Gremlins' nest. She was equally relieved to see that the wounded soldier she'd saved earlier was back on his feet and being tended to by a medic.

Searching the chaotic aftermath, Kara looked for Captain Michael Campbell, the head of Bravo Party. She spotted him quickly enough. The captain stood in the middle of the corridor, dishing out orders to the troops.

"Everyone, check your ammo. Romanolo, keep monitoring that door! I wanna know the moment those things start scratching at it. Pond, find those plasma charges! Baxter, stop moaning about your face! You're not even _half_ as ugly as me."

An imposing, gaunt faced man in his mid-forties whose face had been badly burned on the left side from a run-in with an Aerial HK four years earlier, Campbell was a real hardass, but a likable one.

The captain turned to Kara as she approached. "Starbuck, I recommend we throw a few plasma charges in there and finish the bastards off," he growled.

Kara nodded. "Read my mind, Captain."

Not everyone seemed to agree.

Dakota Romanolo balked, "Really? You wanna open that thing _again_?"

Kara ignored her. "How soon can we do it?" she asked Campbell.

"We gotta get everyone in position first. We'll need a much tighter perimeter this time. In case one of those little bastards slips past us again-" Campbell stopped mid-sentence. His hand went to his radio earpiece. "Campbell, here?... What? Yes, sir. Right away."

He lowered his hand and turned to Kara. "Call from General Connor, ma'am. He wants to speak with you on a private channel."

"Thanks. If you'll excuse me..." Kara turned away from the others and adjusted her radio headset to the appropriate channel.

"This is Thrace," she announced, speaking quietly into her microphone. "Go ahead, sir."

Seconds later, she heard Connor's voice over her radio earpiece.

_"Major Thrace, is this channel secure?"_

"Affirmative, sir."

"_Good. Major, I'd like you to come to the Computer Core Chamber. Alone."_

Kara frowned, caught off guard by this order. "May I ask what for, sir?" she asked.

Connor's explanation was as clear as a brick wall. _"It's something we shouldn't discuss over the comm. You'll understand soon enough. Just come to the Computer Core chamber and we'll talk. You know how to get there."_

"Can't we talk about this over the comm?" Kara said, doing her best to hide her annoyance. "This _is_ a secure channel."

"_Negative. I don't want to risk this channel being hacked. _

Kara exhaled sharply. "I'm a little busy here, sir. We've got a bit of a Gremlin infestation that needs dealing with."

"_I'm sure your people can handle it themselves, Thrace. Just get down here. Now."_

The last word was spoken normally, but with enough emphasis to silence any protest Kara may have had.

Resigned, she acknowledged the order. "Copy that, sir. I'm on my way."

"_Good. I'll see you soon. Connor out."_

With that, the channel closed and the transmission terminated.

Sighing, Kara looked to Campbell. "Connor wants to see me at the Computer Core. Don't know what for, but you'll have to carry on without me."

A look of concern crossed Campbell's hardened features. "You want someone to go with you?"

"No," said Kara, shaking her head. "Connor's orders were for me to come alone. Besides, I need everyone here to deal with the Gremlins."

"All right, then. Oh, hey, Starbuck... almost forgot. You said something about saving the chips from any metals we took down?" He reached into his vest pocket and pulled out four Terminator CPUs. "This is all we managed to get. Hope it's enough."

Kara took the CPUs and nodded. "That's plenty. Good work, Captain." She stuffed the chips in a utility pouch. "This won't take that long... I hope."

"Ma'am." Captain Campbell snapped her a salute. "Be careful."

"I'll try." Kara saluted back, then headed off.

* * *

Using schematics of the facility on her PDA, Kara plotted the fastest route from Area Two to the Computer Core Chamber. Like all of Skynet's complexes, this place had been constructed for maximum efficiency. Unlike the underground havens of the Resistance which were deliberately made confusing with fake entrances and passageways that led to nowhere, Skynet's facilities were as simplistic and straightforward as possible. Everything had a purpose. Nothing was made more complicated than necessary.

Despite Connor's insistence that she get to him as soon as possible, Kara walked cautiously and quietly. Though Connor's own team had thoroughly swept the path to the Computer Core the other day, the recent Gremlin attack had left her on edge.

_The sooner Connor gets that time machine up and running, the sooner we can blow this place to Hell and go home,_ she thought irritably.

The longer she stayed here, the more she hated this place. She disliked Skynet facilities in general, but this one was particularly bad with its steel and concrete walls. The narrow corridors. The low lighting and cold air. The utter silence. Even the lack of activity from the deactivated automated defenses. It was all so surreal - in a soulless sort of way.

Eventually, she arrived at the entrance to the Computer Core Chamber. There she found Marcus standing in front of the fortified blast doors.

She nodded. "Marcus."

Marcus nodded back. "Major."

"Connor wanted to see me."

Marcus nodded again. "Acknowledged. You will need to surrender your plasma weapon and any explosives before entering."

"What for?"

"General Connor's orders," explained the machine. "The equipment in the Computer Core Chamber is highly sensitive. No high powered weaponry is allowed."

"All right then..." Kara relieved herself of her plasma SMG and grenades, then stepped back.

Marcus turned to a digital touch screen mounted to the wall. He entered a lengthy sequence of symbols and numbers onto the screen. The touch screen gave an affirmative beep.

The doors unlocked themselves and slid open.

Marcus stepped aside. "You may enter."

"Thanks." Kara stepped through the doors, which closed shut behind her.

The Computer Core Chamber was stark, sterile and fairly spacious, with the massive hemisphere-shaped Core positioned at the center. Compared to the simplistic Core Chamber Kara had seen two years ago at the Umbrella Detention Facility, this chamber was far more elaborate in appearance. Computer terminals, video screens, and monitoring equipment ringed the Core. Air vents designed to remove excess exhaust and heat had been placed in strategic positions on the ceiling. Dozens of metal hoses ran across the ceiling, some pulsating blue light, others pulsating red.

Looking around, Kara spotted another another set of blast doors at the far end of the chamber. These ones looked even more dense and fortified than the ones she'd entered through moments earlier. And for good reason too. According to the schematics, those doors led to the Primary Chamber - the room where Skynet's time travel machine was housed.

_Sure would love to get a peak in there,_ she mused.

Remembering why she was here, Kara looked around for General Connor. She spotted two technicians and another reprogrammed Terminator working at the various consoles around the core. A third technician was monitoring a computer terminal near the blast doors to the Primary Chamber. Connor, however, was nowhere in sight.

Before she could investigate further, a familiar voice addressed her from behind: "Major Thrace."

Kara hissed under her breath. Oh great... Just who she needed.

Forcing herself to adopt a relatively neutral face, Kara slowly turned around to face Agent Veronica Brice.

"Where's Connor?" Kara asked, keeping her voice as calm and as pleasant as possible. "He wanted to see me."

Brice's eyes shifted sideways slightly towards the blast doors at the back of the room. "I'm afraid you showed up a little too late, Major. The general locked himself in the Primary Chamber, along with Master Sergeant Reese and the rest of the engineering team just ten minutes ago. I have specific orders form him not to let anyone else in until he leaves."

Kara frowned, confused. "Why? What's going on? What's he doing in there?"

Brice quirked her lips. "I don't know. You'll have to ask Connor yourself when he gets out."

Kara was not deterred. "He wanted to speak with me," she repeated.

"I know that," Brice replied curtly, "but his orders to _me_ were clear: No one is allowed to enter the Primary Chamber until further notice. So, unfortunately you'll have to wait."

Kara realized this wouldn't get her anywhere. She relented. "Right, right. Fine..." She started to turn around to leave, but then stopped. "Oh and by the way..." She reached into her vest pocket and pulled out the four Terminator CPUs that Captain Campbell had given her earlier.

She held them out in the palm of her hand. "You said you wanted these?"

Brice stared, and for a flicker of moment, a glimmer of surprise crossed her face. Then it became all cold and professional once more.

She nodded. "I see. Excellent."

She reached for the chips, but Kara clamped her fist shut and jerked her hand back, pulling the prizes out of reach - much to Brice's surprise.

"Ah. Not so fast." She stared the DEIMOS agent squarely in the eyes. "Wanna know how many of my people died for these things?"

Brice blinked, clearly confused. She then quickly adopted a more composed expression.

"How many?" she asked, sounding mildly curious.

Kara waited a second before answering. "None. Thankfully."

Brice showed no reaction. "I'm glad to hear that."

"Yeah, you _should_ be glad." Kara's voice turned low and menacing. "Because if anyone _had_ died..."

"You'd hold me personally responsible?" Brice asked, again without any reaction.

"Not as much as I'd hold _myself_ responsible, but yes, I would. Just thought you might want to know."

At last, Kara opened her fist and dropped the captured CPUs into the other woman's palm.

Brice looked down to inspect the chips briefly, then stowed them in a pocket of her armored vest.

"Major," she said crisply, looking up again, "I don't really care what you think of me personally, but I am _not_ your enemy."

Kara huffed. "You're not exactly my _friend_ either."

"We don't _need_ to be friends," Brice retorted sharply. "Connor doesn't need us to be friends. We just need to get our jobs done."

"Yeah. I get that," Kara hissed.

Brice folded her arms across her chest, clearly tired of this conversation. "Are we done here, Major?"

Before Kara could answer, a shout rang across the room.

"_Hey! _ What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Startled, she turned in the direction of the commotion and saw one of the human technicians approaching the reprogrammed Terminator which was working at one of consoles around the core.

"Hey! Hey!" the technician yelled, waving his arms, "Are you crazy? Don't mess with that-"

Without warning, the machine turned around and viciously backhanded the tech. The man flew backwards halfway across the room and crash landed in a heap on the ground.

"The frak?" cursed Kara.

Agent Brice was just as alarmed. "Damn it."

The machine turned back to the console and tapped a few more controls, then punched its fist straight through the console. Sparks and smoke burst from the terminal.

A sinister hissing noise suddenly filled the room. The biohazard detector strapped to Kara's left wrist began beeping in alarm. The dial swung from green to yellow and then towards red. She looked up in horror as a faint mist began seeping into the room from vents in the ceiling.

"Masks!" she bellowed. "Masks!" She hastily grabbed for the gas mask attached to her utility belt.

While everyone scrambled to protect themselves from the gas, the rogue machine strolled over to the doors to the Primary Chamber. Another technician stationed there was in the middle of getting his gas mask on and didn't see the danger until it was too late. The rogue grabbed him by the neck and slammed him face first into the doors twice, before dropping him to the floor in a heap. The machine then accessed the nearby control terminal. Sequences of code flashed rapidly across the computer screen as the Terminator went to work.

Kara finished strapping her protective mask over her face. After taking a few deep labored breaths, she hurried over to the technician who'd been knocked out trying to stop the rogue from releasing the gas. The man lay flat on his back, unconscious and bleeding from the forehead. Kneeling beside him, Kara saw that his uniform name tag read _Martinez_. Kara ripped the gas mask from his utility belt and forced it over Martinez's mouth. Hopefully it was not too late for him.

She looked for the second technician. She spotted him lying near the doors to the Primary Chamber where he'd been attacked only moments earlier. A pool of blood had collected around his head. She quickly realized that she couldn't help him. Even if he was still alive, the rogue Terminator stood only a few feet away. While it was currently focused on the control console, if she got too close, it would perceive her as a threat and she'd become its next victim.

By this time, the deadly odorless aerosol had spread to every corner of the room. More was being pumped in through the vents in the ceiling. The needle on Kara's biohazard detector now rested deep in the red zone. Though she felt confident this stuff couldn't be absorbed through the skin (mainly due to the fact that she wasn't dead or dying yet), she knew she couldn't count on her mask to protect her forever.

Looking around for Brice, she spotted the DEIMOS agent next to the Computer Core. With her was the remaining technician. Both had managed to don on gas masks in time.

Kara waved at them frantically. "Over here!"

The surviving tech rushed over to her aid. "How is he?" he asked, gazing down at Martinez.

"He's alive," replied Kara. "But I'm not sure how much gas he was exposed to before I got to him."

"What about Brett?" the tech asked, pointing to the body of the technician lying near the Primary Chamber.

Kara shook her head. "We can't help him now."

The tech started to protest. "Damn it, we can't just leave him-"

Kara placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hey. Stay focused." She looked him in the eyes. "What's your name, soldier?"

The man blinked. "Huh? Oh, uh, O'Brien, ma'am. Uh, Technician, Second Class."

"O'Brien, right. Got it. Focus on those we can still save, O'Brien. Like him." She pointed at Martinez.

O'Brien nodded vigorously. "Y-yes, ma'am."

"Good. Now gimme a hand here with this guy."

Working together, they pulled Martinez's unconscious body off the floor and dragged him over to the Computer Core. Once there, they set him down next to a computer terminal. That done, Kara began to assess the situation.

"All right, first things first. Can we vent this crap?" she asked urgently. "Before it starts getting through our masks?"

O'Brien inspected one of the computer terminals. "We're-we're locked out of the environmental systems," he said, fear evident in his voice. "And I can't open the doors to the outside. We're trapped in here. Whatever the metal did, it did it good."

Agent Brice looked up from another console. "We have a much greater problem, I'm afraid," she announced. "That machine is trying to break into the Primary Chamber. If it gets inside-"

Kara's stomach tightened. "It'll kill everyone in there. Connor, Kyle... everyone."

Brice nodded. "Either that or this gas will."

Kara cursed. "Hell... We gotta warn them."

"I already tried," said Brice, shaking her head. "There's some sort of interference within the Primary Chamber. I can't get a message through to Connor."

"All right..." Kara's eyes narrowed. "Then someone has to take out the bastard."

O'Brien scoffed. "How? None of us have plasma weapons or explosives-"

"Never said _we _would do it." Kara tapped her radio headset and switched to a secure channel. "Marcus, this is Thrace. _Please_, tell me you can hear me. We have a huge cluster frak going on in here!"

To her tremendous relief, she received a prompt response: _"Affirmative, Major," _Marcus replied._ "I am aware of the current situation."_

"Well what are you waiting for then?" Kara snapped. "Open those doors and get your ass in here!"

"_I am attempting to do so, but the external access controls to the doors are not responding. It appears I have been remotely locked out of the system."_

"Meaning what?"

"_My console has been frozen," _Marcus explained calmly, as though discussing the weather. _"All codes and override attempts on my part have failed. Only a lockout command sent from the Computer Core itself could do this. I suspect the rogue unit was responsible."_

"Can't you just bust the damn doors down?"

"_Negative. Physical force will take too long. These doors are magnetically sealed and are reinforced with a polyalloy-"_

"I get it!" She groaned in frustration. "So what do we do now?"

"_You must issue an override command from the Computer Core to terminate the lockout. That will grant me control of the doors once again."_

"I see... hold on a sec. O'Brien!" She turned to the technician. "Can you do that?"

"I-I...I don't know," he stammered. "I've never dealt with anything like this before..."

"But _I_ have."

Kara and O'Brien turned to Agent Brice.

"You can override the lockdown?" Kara asked.

The DEIMOS operative nodded. "Isn't that what I just said?"

Kara stared at her, uncertain. "You sure?"

Brice raised her eyebrows slightly. "I am DEIMOS, aren't I? I got those doors open in the first place." She looked Kara straight in the eyes. "I can do this, Thrace. Trust me."

Despite both of them wearing masks, Kara could tell there was something different in Brice's eyes and her voice. Something that reminded her of the other day when Kota had volunteered to distract the endoskeletons. And when Harris had assured her that he could make the shot. In that moment, Brice seemed less like an untrustworthy DEIMOS agent, and more like a fellow soldier. Someone that could be counted on.

Sighing, Kara nodded and tapped her radio headset again. "Standby, Marcus. Agent Brice is going to get those doors open. The moment they're open, get in here and start knocking heads together."

"_Understood, Major." _

"Good. Thrace out." She turned back to the others. "O'Brien, stay with Martinez. Make sure he keeps breathing."

"I'm not a medic," O'Brien protested. "What am I supposed to do if anything happens?"

"Can you pray?"

"Well, yeah-"

"Then that'll have to do. Just stay with him, OK? And when those doors open, get him and yourself out of here."

O'Brien nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Kara turned back to Agent Brice. "How long will it take for you to override the lockout?"

"Just a few minutes," replied Brice.

Kara glanced over her shoulder at the Primary Chamber. The rogue Terminator had its back turned to them and was completely focused on the control console. Not being a technician or an engineer, she couldn't tell how far it had progressed, but if the increasing number of green lights on the touch screen was any indication, it was doing a pretty good job.

She turned back to Brice. "You may not have that much time," she said grimly. "Someone's gonna need to distract the machine. Get it away from the controls, if only for a few seconds..."

Brice stared inquisitively. "Someone as in...?"

Beneath her gas mask, Kara grinned. "I _am_ Kara Thrace, aren't I?"

For a second she thought she saw something akin to admiration in Brice's eyes.

"All right, then," said the DEIMOS agent, nodding. "Good luck, Major."

Kara hesitated to respond. "Yeah, thanks..." she managed to say. "...You too, Brice."

Leaving Brice and O'Brien behind at the Core, she hurried to the back of the chamber, where the rogue machine was attempting to access the Primary Chamber. The machine still had its back turned to her and paid no attention to her presence.

_Let's see if we can fix that,_ she thought.

Drawing her side arm from its holster, she took aim at the rogue. She knew she wouldn't harm the machine, but she might piss it off enough to get it away from the controls. "Hey, asshole!" she shouted, and proceeded to unload her pistol into the rogue's back. Unfortunately, the bullets didn't even seem to phase it. Unperturbed, it continued its work at the console.

Just as undaunted, Kara slapped a second clip into her pistol and fired again. This time she targeted the control console. Sparks burst from the controls and the touchscreen flickered in protest. The rogue looked up and turned around.

She smirked. _Now,_ she had its attention.

Her smirk vanished when she saw the submachine gun in its hand.

_Oh shit!_

Kara's lightning fast reflexes kicked in. She flung herself sideways half a second before the rogue opened fire.

Not fast enough, though. A single bullet caught her in the midsection. While it didn't fully penetrate her armored vest, the shock and force of the impact knocked her off her feet and sent her sprawling to the floor. She groaned and clutched at her side, which throbbed in agony.

At that point, the rogue's weapon must have jammed because it suddenly stopped firing.

Fighting off the pain, Kara shakily pulled herself to her feet. She frantically searched herself for another pistol clip, but discovered she had none left. Cursing under her breath, she braced herself for the machine to come charging at her.

Instead, however, the rogue turned around and went back to work on the blast door controls.

"Come on!" she bellowed hoarsely through the gas mask. "Let's finish this, you son of a bitch!"

The machine did not react to her taunts. Apparently it no longer considered her a threat.

Kara inhaled sharply through her protective mouthpiece. _"Gods damn it." _She was _really_ starting to regret leaving her plasma SMG behind.

By now, nearly all the lights on the touch screen were green. The rogue was seconds away from breaking into the Primary Chamber.

Kara took a deep breath.

_Ok, time for desperate measures._

With a yell, she sprinted across the room and jumped onto the rogue's back. She wrapped her arms around it in a bear hug, grappling it like a lioness on the back of a buffalo.

The machine bucked and thrashed in response to this brazen assault. Gnashing her teeth, she fought fiercely to hold on, determined to keep the rogue away from the controls as long as possible. The machine in turn intensified its efforts to dislodge her. The violent motions jarred her stomach painfully and blurred her vision. Only her experience as a former Viper pilot kept her brain focused and her arms locked in place.

Despite her determination, she couldn't hold on for much longer. After a couple minutes of struggle, her grip slackened and she let go. She fell to the floor flat on her back.

Dazed and nauseated, she looked up and saw the machine staring down at her, its expression harsh and cold. Its soulless eyes flashed red, as if expressing annoyance at this inconvenience. The machine lifted one booted foot off the ground and began stepping down towards her face.

Kara ducked out of the way, dodging the stomp just in time. She tried to get back up, but the machine grabbed her by the back of the head and shoved her face first into the floor. Her lips kissed the cold metal of her mask's mouthpiece.

Before she could do anything else, the Terminator seized her again, this time by the collar and flung her across the room. She crashed haplessly into the blast doors guarding the Primary Chamber, and landed next to the unmoving body of technician Brett.

Shaking off the pain, she sat up and glanced over at Brett's motionless body. She confirmed that he was definitely dead - either from the rogue's attack, or exposure to the gas. She had no time to feel sorrow, because the rogue Terminator was coming for her again. Frantic, she policed Brett's corpse for a weapon, but found nothing of use.

Trapped between the blast doors and the machine, there was nowhere for her to move. The rogue drew its foot up for a third time. Kara turned her face away, hoping to avoid the brunt of the attack.

Suddenly an intense buzzing flooded the air. Something - a _surge_ of some kind - she didn't know how else to describe it - rippled outward from behind the blast doors. An indescribable ringing filled her ears.

Unexpectedly, the rogue lowered its foot and cocked its head upwards as if sensing the same thing she had. It stood frozen in place, staring up. Its eyes flashed red repeatedly as though blinking.

A surge of blood and adrenaline rushed through her, renewing her strength. She jumped back to her feet and and darted past the distracted rogue. If she could lead the rogue away from the blast doors, there might be a-

Her thoughts were interrupted as someone suddenly grab her by the shoulders from the front. Alarmed, she started to struggle but then looked up and stopped at the sight of Marcus' face.

The friendly Triple-Eight stared back down at her and nodded, acknowledging her presence. He then pushed her behind him, placing himself between her and the rogue. The rogue held position, assessing its new opponent.

Kara grinned underneath her gas mask. "Kick his ass, Marcus."

Marcus nodded. "Affirmative."

He charged the rogue, seized the enemy machine by the shoulders and drove it backwards, slamming it up against the wall. The enemy machine grabbed Marcus's arms and struggled to break his grip. For several seconds, the two machines grappled with each other, locked in place by their equal strength. Then the enemy twisted itself around and shoved Marcus back into the wall. The rogue threw a punch at him. Marcus dodged out of the way. The punch missed him and slammed into the wall, making a deep fist-sized dent. Marcus seized his opponent by the back of the head, and shoved the rogue into the wall again, face first this time.

_"Major!"_

Kara turned around and spotted Agent Brice waving at her from the now open doorway.

"Come on, Thrace!" the DEIMOS agent shouted urgently. "_Move_! Get out of there!"

Leaving Marcus and the rogue to fight it out, Kara dashed across the chamber to freedom. The moment she was past the threshold, Brice slammed her palm on the control panel. The doors slid shut, sealing off the chamber and containing the two machines and the poisonous gas.

Kara checked her biohazard detector. The dial was now back in the green zone. It was safe again.

Relieved, she pulled off her gas mask and panted heavily. Oxygen flowed freely back into her lungs. The cold air felt good against her sweaty face. A wave of fatigue washed over her and she collapsed to the floor.

Agent Brice removed her own gas mask. A thick layer of sweat covered her own face. She looked as equally tired as Kara.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

Kara winced as she clutched at her side where she'd been shot. "I took a round, but it didn't go through," she grunted. "How about you?"

Brice gave her a somewhat embarrassed look. "Getting the door open didn't exactly go the way I planned," she said ruefully. "Mid-way through, I had to manually short circuit one of the control boards. I didn't have the necessary tools, so I had to do it by hand. And, as you can see..."

She held up her hands, both of which were badly blistered and burnt.

Kara cringed. "Shit. You should see a medic."

Brice nodded. "So should you."

Along with Kara and Brice, the technicians O'Brien and Martinez had also made it out. Martinez had regained conscious at this point and was now sitting up, rubbing his bleeding forehead with his jacket sleeve, while O'Brien spoke to him. Looking at Kara, Martinez nodded to her, silently conveying his gratitude. She nodded back.

Meanwhile, the sounds of struggle could still be heard from within the chamber.

"I hope Marcus can handle the situation on his own," said Brice.

"Don't worry. He'll be fine," said Kara reassuringly. She stood up and reached for her radio headset. "Bravo Leader, this is Starbuck. Do you copy? Over."

"_Roger, Starbuck," _Captain Campbell's voice replied through her earpiece. _"I hear you."_

"Have you cleared out those Gremlins?"

"_Affirmative, ma'am. It's done. No casualties."_

"Excellent. I'm outside the doors to the Computer Core Chamber in Area One. Bring a fireteam and a medic to my position, ASAP."

"_Shit... you all right, Starbuck? What the hell happened over there?"_

"I'll explain later. Just get up here."

"_Roger, ma'am. On our way."_

"Don't take too long. Starbuck out."

Kara switched off the radio, then tossed her head back and let out another exhausted sigh, before collapsing against the wall again. Never before had she yearned so badly to lay her head on something reasonably soft for a couple hours.

Agent Brice sat down next to her.

"You did good, Thrace," she said. There was genuine praise in her voice.

Too tired to do anything, Kara just nodded.

"Yeah... Yeah. You did too, Brice," she mumbled. "You did too..."

Brice simply nodded back.

Nothing more needed to be said between the two soldiers. Together, they sat and waited.

* * *

**Present day - Los Angeles  
En route to Sharpeston...  
**

"So anyway, needless to say, Marcus subdued the rogue and remove its chip. Another engineering team managed to flush out all the toxins."

"Did you ever find out why it happened? Why the machine turned against you?" inquired Sarah.

Kara gave a rather apathetic shrug. "No. Not really. It could have been for a number of reasons."

Sarah stared in astonishment. "And that never _bothered_ you?"

Kara huffed. "_Of course_ it bothered me. I was nearly _killed_. But those were the hazards that came with the job."

"Are you telling me this didn't change how you felt about the Resistance using Terminators?"

"I don't see any reason why it should have."

Sarah continued staring. "That's something I still don't get about you, Starbuck. You've fought in not one - but _two_ wars against machines. You've probably killed hundreds of machines - Terminators and Cylons - without batting an eyebrow. Yet when it comes to machines as _allies_, you've always been one to trust them. You told me earlier that you backed your people's alliance with Leoben's people. The one that you said caused a mutiny-"

"I was backing Admiral Adama. And besides, the Fleet didn't have much choice at that point."

"-now you're telling me you supported using Terminators in the Resistance even after nearly being killed by one."

"I knew the risks. We all did. It was no different than being on the surface with the HK patrols. There was always a chance of being killed."

"What about those _unnecessary_ risks you talked about before?" Sarah asked. "How was this any less risky for anyone than recovering live Terminator CPUs?"

"I don't like putting anyone in danger for any reason," Kara asserted. "But I understood that using machines was necessary."

"Necessary?" Sarah raised her eyebrows. "You mean like what we're doing right now? Trusting Cameron about the Engineer."

Kara nodded. "Exactly."

Sarah was silent for a couple seconds.

"Starbuck, you know that Cameron turned against us once before?"

Kara replied in a nonchalant manner, "Yes."

"You know that she could turn against us again?"

"Yes."

"So why do you still think she - or _any_ Terminator for that matter - can be trusted?"

Kara gave an uneasy laugh. "I... I really can't say, Sarah. Maybe it's because Cameron has saved me so many times. Maybe I'm like John and I can see the good in her. Maybe it's because I've seen human beings do things that are so much worse than a machine could conceive of. Maybe it's because I was once married to a machine... to a Cylon... and I still love him. Maybe I'm just _crazy_. I don't really know... Anyway, wasn't this supposed to be about Kyle?"

"Right..." muttered Sarah, "I was just... never mind. Go on. You were saying?"

"Well..."

* * *

**January 17, 2027  
Skynet Facility, Topanga Canyon  
Area 1 - Outside Computer Core Chamber  
Infiltration time: 43.5 Hours+ (Approx)**

"You sure you're all right, Starbuck?" Captain Campbell asked.

"I'm fine, Campbell. I'm fine." Kara finished prying the bullet from her armored vest. Plucking the projectile from the tweezers she was using, she tossed it away, then ran a quick inspection of the damage to the vest.

The bullet had pierced through the outer microfiber weaving and penetrated one of the ceramic plates underneath. The layer of coolant gel below, however, had considerably slowed it down. Consequently, the bullet did not fully penetrate the second, final armored plate. The impact had still left her with a particularly nasty bruise that would sting for days. Other than that though, she'd come out relatively unscathed.

Finished with the inspection, she slipped the vest back on and zipped it back up. She took a quick gulp of water from a canteen, which she then handed back to Private Harris. He and Campbell were the only ones remaining here with her, as the rest of Campbell's fireteam had taken Brice, Martinez and O'Brien back to the Checkpoint for medical attention.

Kara had insisted on staying here, outside the Computer Core Chamber. She still needed to speak with Connor about whatever the hell it was he'd called her over here for.

"How are the others doing?" she asked Campbell.

"Medic tells me Martinez wasn't exposed to too much gas, so he should be good," the captain answered. "O'Brien doesn't have a scratch on him. As for Miss DEIMOS, her hands are going to be a bit sore for a while, but she's all right."

Kara nodded. "That's good. That's definitely good."

"That shit in there could have gotten real ugly," Campbell remarked. "Good thing you were there, eh?"

"It was ugly enough," Kara muttered. She thought of Technician Brett lying in front of the doors in a pool of blood.

Private Harris folded his arms across his chest. "So, another one of Connor's pets goes berserk, huh?" He shook his head. "How many has that been? Four? Five? I'm starting to lose track."

"Don't start, Harris," Kara warned. "I'm not in the mood for this."

Harris rolled his eyes. "With all due respect, ma'am, you were nearly _killed_ less than an hour ago by a supposedly friendly metal."

"I also just had my ass saved by another supposedly friendly metal. So shut up."

"Seriously, Starbuck? How can you just- _ugh!_"

A punch to the gut silenced him.

Kara nodded. "Thank you, Campbell."

Campbell smirked. "Much obliged."

Harris just gasped and wheezed.

"Good to see you're all in one piece."

Startled, Kara spun around and found John Connor waiting for her. The general had appeared seemingly out of nowhere - again.

_How the frak does he do that?_ she wondered.

Connor addressed Captain Campbell first. "Captain, the Major and I need to speak alone. Get the rest of the infiltration team assembled at the lift. We're moving out."

"Yes, sir." Campbell gave a crisp salute. He and Private Harris (who was still grasping at his stomach) then left.

Connor now turned to Kara. "Major, Marcus has informed me of the... incident in the Computer Core Chamber. I won't lie when I say things could have gotten out of hand very quickly."

Kara pursed her lips. "Yes, sir."

"I understand that you and Agent Brice handled the situation quite well given the circumstances." He nodded approvingly. "Excellent work."

"Thank you, sir." She sighed. "I just wish no one had been killed."

"I know, Starbuck," Connor said solemnly. "So do I."

Hearing footsteps, they both grew silent. A few moments later, Marcus came around the corner. He carried the lifeless body of the rogue Terminator over his shoulders like a hunter carrying a deer carcass.

Connor nodded. "Marcus."

The Triple Eight paused. "General." He glanced at Kara. "Thrace."

Kara smiled and nodded respectfully. "Marcus."

Marcus nodded back, then moved on, taking the rogue's body with him.

Connor resumed speaking. "We're going to be investigating this thoroughly. So make sure you file a complete report on this incident. I'd also appreciate it if you didn't talk too much about it. I don't need any more doubts or rumors about our usage of Terminators. It'll only make things worse."

"Understood, sir." Again, she sighed. "I just sure as hell hope this doesn't happen again."

Connor nodded. "As do I." Judging by the look on his face, it didn't seem like he was too optimistic about those prospects.

Remembering her reason for being here, Kara cleared her throat. "Pardon me, General, but wasn't there, uh, something you wanted to discuss with me in the Computer Core Chamber? Before all this crap happened, I mean?"

Connor's eyes momentarily shifted sideways, avoiding her gaze. Definitely not a good sign.

"Yes," he said flatly. "I did. I wanted you to witness the activation of the Temporal Displacement Device. But..."

She gave him an inquiring look. "Connor?"

"It's already done."

Stunned, Kara blinked. "Say what?"

"We activated the machine and sent our agent back."

Kara's mind went numb. "We did? When?"

"While you were fighting the malfunctioning Termination," Connor answered. "I think that's why it wanted to break into the Primary Chamber. It knew we were preparing to activate the time travel device and it wanted to stop us."

Kara recalled the intense energy pulse she'd felt emanating from behind the blast doors to the Primary Chamber. The surge of power that had probably saved her life when it distracted the rogue. Then she remembered the mysterious communications interference. Everything clicked together.

Concealing her disappointment at having missed the spectacle, she shrugged her shoulders as though it were a trivial matter.

"Oh... oh well. I think I got a good enough taste of it." She gave a fake cough. "So, uh, did it work? Did our Terminator make it back?"

Connor folded his arms in front of him. "Yes. It worked. But no Terminator made it back."

Kara stared, even more confused than before. "Huh?"

"We didn't send a machine back."

"What do you mean we didn't send a machine? How could we have-"

Suddenly, it struck her. They had brought _three_ reprogrammed Terminators to this mission. Marcus, the rogue, and another one which had been stationed at the elevator this whole time. None of them had been in the Primary Chamber when it had been activated.

Which could only mean...

"We sent a person," said Connor, completing her thought. "That was always the plan."

Kara felt a lump in the back of her throat. "Wh-who?"

Connor did not oblige her with a straight answer.

"I was going to tell you right before he left. That's why I called you to the Computer Core in the first place." He paused and sighed. "But at the last moment he insisted I wait until after he was gone. I'm not sure why..."

He pulled out a folded piece of paper from the breast pocket of his vest.

"He wanted me to give this to you."

He offered the paper to Kara.

For five seconds, Kara just stared blankly at the paper in Connor's hand. Then slowly, she reached out with one hand and took it. Hands shaking, she clumsily unfolded the paper.

It was a handwritten letter addressed to her. The familiar handwriting made her stomach tighten painfully.

Fighting back a wave of nausea, she forced herself to read:

_Hi Starbuck,_

_By now you probably know what happened to me. What Connor sent me to do. I'm sorry I never told you last night but I didn't know exactly how to say it. After all, I haven't had much experience saying goodbye. I've never been able to say goodbye to anyone else I ever cared about in my life. Why should this be any different?_

_You're probably wondering why it was me who was sent back. Let's just say it has to be me. I don't want to use the word "destiny" or anything, but this is the way it has to be. Connor chose me. I don't know why he did, but I trust him. Don't blame yourself or anything. There's nothing you could have done or said that could have stopped this. _

_I want you to know that it's been an honor to serve you and to fight alongside you. You've been a good friend to me. You've always been there for me. And I want you to know that I'm grateful for how you've kept me strong these last couple of days. And like I told you last night, __you're the closest thing I've had to a big sister._

_I've written a separate letter for Derek, but I have a feeling he won't take it well. So I need you to be there for him. Take care of him. Keep him strong, the way you kept me strong. Keep everyone strong. And stay strong yourself.  
_

_I don't know how this is going to end for me or for any of us, but I know that at least I'll see the stars again. I hope you will too one day. _

_Semper Fi.  
Kyle Reese _

Kara's brain churned as it processed the words written on the paper, trying to make sense of them, while at the same time not wanting to understand at all. It was as though her head was immersed in ice cold water. Part of her mind had deliberately disconnected itself from reality. She didn't know how long it took for her to grasp the truth.

When she finally broke her silence, all she could whisper was, "You knew..."

General Connor's face remained impassive, but there was a tinge of regret in his eyes.

"I'm sorry I had to lie to you, Major, but you need to understand-"

Kara held up a hand.

"It's OK. I get it. You did what you had to do." Her voice trembled. "And in all honesty, I guess I should have seen this coming."

"Are you sure you're OK, Starbuck?" He sounded genuinely concerned.

"Tell you the truth - no," Kara mumbled. "I'm definitely _not_ OK." She let out a sigh. "...But I'll survive. I mean, what else can I do?"

For a second, Connor looked like he wanted to say something more. The next moment, though, he went right back to business-as-usual.

"I trust you understand that you are not to discuss what happened here with anyone. That includes Derek Reese."

She heard the iron-clad authority in his voice. "Yes, sir," she murmured submissively. "What should I tell him?"

"Whatever you feel you need to tell him. As long as it doesn't involve the time travel technology here. When the time is right, I will tell Derek what happened to his brother myself. Is that understood, Major?"

Kara glumly nodded her head. "Understood, sir... I do have one question, though."

Connor nodded. "Go ahead."

"How long have you known?"

"Known what?"

"That this was going to happen. Kyle... Skynet... This place... Your mother... All of it."

Kara stared him squarely in the face.

"How long have you known?"

As always, Connor's expression was unreadable.

"Would the answer change anything that's already happened today?"

Kara sighed. "No," she admitted.

"Would it change what you're going to do next?"

"No."

"Then it shouldn't matter."

"No, sir." Kara sighed again. "Sir, I-I just need a couple minutes to myself. Please."

Connor was silent for a few seconds. Then he nodded. "All right. But just a couple of minutes. In less than an hour, a nuclear warhead is going to be detonated down here and whatever's left of this facility will be buried."

"Yes, sir."

Kara straightened herself out and managed a salute.

Connor saluted back, then promptly turned around, and walked away without another word.

For the next thirty seconds, Kara Thrace stood alone, the letter still clutched in her hand. She was like a figure frozen in time. Unmoving and unthinking. Then her legs gave way and she collapsed to her knees.

She didn't know whether to cry or scream or what. She didn't even know what to _feel_ right now. Anger? Grief? Happiness? Despair? Hope?

She just didn't know...

"Hello, Major."

Startled, Kara looked over her shoulder and found Agent Brice standing behind her. Her hands, now bandaged, were clasped in front and she wore an uncharacteristic expression of sympathy.

"I'm sorry, Thrace," she said softly.

Normally, Kara Thrace would never let _anyone_ see her on her knees like this. Least of all Agent Brice. But right now, she didn't really care about appearances.

"You knew about this?" she whispered. It was a statement rather than a question.

Brice nodded. "Yes. And like I said, I'm sorry. I really am."

There was utter sincerity in her voice that Kara never thought possible of someone like Brice.

"I know what it's like to lose people you care about," Brice said gently. She walked over and knelt down on one knee in front of Kara, bringing herself within eye level. "And I also know what it's like to have to leave family behind."

Despite the apparent honesty Brice displayed, Kara was skeptical. "Do you?"

"It's what I had to do when I joined DEIMOS," Brice explained. "You see, DEIMOS doesn't allow their agents to have friends or family. You can't have any outside connections or people who can influence you. When I joined DEIMOS, I had to cut myself off from everything and everyone I ever knew. Permanently."

"Is that so?" asked Kara.

"It wasn't too hard, really," Brice admitted. "By the time I joined, I didn't have very many ties left. Most of my family was lost on Judgment Day, and I'd lost my entire unit in a Skynet attack."

This unexpected tidbit took Kara by surprise. "Hold on. Your profile says you served under Benedict Sloan just before you joined DEIMOS."

Brice raised her eyebrows. "Yes. And?"

"Sloan is still alive," Kara started to say, "How could everyone in your old unit been killed if-"

Brice interrupted, "What makes you think I ever served under Sloan?"

"Your profile said so."

"My profile says a lot of things. Do you really think an agency like DEIMOS would allow any _real_ information on its operatives to exist anywhere in the outside world?"

Kara frowned. "I-well, now that you mention it... no. Not really."

"Of course not," said Brice, sounding a bit condescending. "Anyway, when Connor offered me a position on DEIMOS, I had already lost everyone I ever cared about. All except one."

"Who?" Kara asked, now truly curious.

Brice hesitated to reply. "It's no one in my profile. I can tell you that much," she stated, shifting her eyes downward slightly. "And as far as they know, I'm dead. Along with the rest of my old unit. That's what they were told after I joined DEIMOS."

Kara inquired, "And does Connor know about them, whoever they are?"

Brice nodded. "Of course. I told him myself when he offered me a position on DEIMOS. It's best not to keep secrets from someone like John Connor."

_But it's perfectly OK for him to keep secrets from everyone else,_ Kara thought sardonically.

Brice continued. "The point is that I had to leave someone behind so that I could continue fighting. Someone I cared about deeply. Just like Kyle Reese had to leave you, his brother, and everyone else he cared about behind so that he could go on fighting. He did what he had to do to protect the ones he loved. Just like I did. It wasn't an easy decision for me to make. It can't have been easy for him."

"I guess not," muttered Kara.

She gazed warily at Brice.

"Why are you telling me all this?" she asked, still suspicious.

For the first time, Brice smiled. It was a wryly, grim sort of smile, but a smile nonetheless.

"Because Thrace," she said, "I have a feeling that you and I are going to be working together again sometime. Probably sooner than either of us would like. And if either of us are going to survive, we need to have an understanding of each other."

Her smile morphed into a look of earnestness. "I may be a cold, cynical bitch, but I'm still human. I feel pain. I feel regret. And I _always_ honor the dead. Maybe not in the same way you do, but I _never_ forget for a moment that I'm still alive because others died."

Staring at Veronica Brice, Kara wondered if everything she'd thought she'd known about this woman had been wrong.

Brice stood back up and held out a hand. "You coming?"

Kara took one last look at the letter, still clutched in her hand. There were no tears in her eyes. No scream in the back of her throat. Not even pain. Just physical weariness and mental exhaustion. And beyond that, the understanding that she had to move on. She crumpled the letter into a ball and almost casually tossed it away.

She then reached up and let Brice help her to her feet.

"Let's get out of here," she muttered. "I'm sick of this place."

* * *

Half an hour later, the last of the Resistance troops had evacuated Topanga Canyon. The demolition team had been the last to leave. As the retreating helicopters cleared the combat zone, a 150 kiloton nuclear warhead detonated within the base below. The explosion released a tremendous fireball that tore through every corridor, every chamber, every crevice, and up the elevator shaft, utterly gutting the facility. The supersonic shockwave that followed reduced any remaining foundations and support structures to ruin. The mountain above caved inward on itself. What wasn't destroyed in the blast became buried under nearly half a million tons of solid rock.

And with that grand finale, the battle for Topanga Canyon came to a close.

* * *

**Present day  
Sharpeston, Los Angeles  
1:57 PM  
**

"Anyway," said Kara, finishing her story, "that was that."

Uncertain of what to say, Sarah Connor asked cautiously, "Were you... angry with John after that?"

"Yeah... A little," Kara admitted. "Not because he sent Kyle on a suicide mission, but because he lied to me about it. And then he made _me_ lie to Derek about it afterwards."

"How did Derek take it?" asked Sarah.

"In short: Not very well. I tried to keep him in the game like Kyle had asked me to, but..." She just shook her head. "Eventually I had to leave him alone. Let him come to terms on his own..."

"So, what did you do?" Sarah inquired. "Personally, I mean."

"Well, the war wasn't going to stop for me. Skynet was already gearing up for a new offensive in the LA Sector. We needed to train new recruits for Spec Ops to replace the losses at Topanga. So I did the only thing I could do. Continue fighting..." Kara sighed grimly. "It sucks losing people, especially when they're dying for you. It makes you feel like crap. It really does. But if you stop fighting, you're only wasting their sacrifices. So, you can't stop fighting. Not ever. You know what I mean?"

Sarah knew what she meant. In the days following Kyle's death, she'd been wracked with guilt and burden, even though she knew she had no choice but to survive. Only later when she had learned she was pregnant with John had she understood what she had to do. And only then had she found the strength that Kyle had passed on to her.

"Sometimes I wonder if Kyle knew he was going to die when he was sent back," she mused, more to herself than to Kara.

"I don't know," said Kara. "Maybe. I know that he knew that it was a one-way trip. That he was never going to see me or Derek or anyone else again." She paused, then added, "Still, at least he got to see the stars again before he died."

"What was it like for _you_?" Sarah asked, her curiosity piqued. "When it was your time to go back to intercept that Triple-Eight squad?"

"It wasn't any easier for me than it was for Kyle," Kara replied. "But I knew what I had to do. Connor needed to send the best he had to stop that strike force. And not to brag or anything, but that just so happened to be me."

She flashed a cocky grin.

Sarah refrained from rolling her eyes. Instead, she asked, "Did John ever tell you the whole truth about Kyle?"

"You mean that Kyle was his father?" Kara shook her head. "No. But I figured it out when I got here. John is just so much more like Kyle than like Connor."

"What do you mean?"

"After all that's happened since you and John came to this time period, I don't think he could ever be the John Connor I know. He can be a leader and a soldier, there's no question of that. But he won't become the one that Derek, Kyle, Cam, and I all knew. The one who sent us back."

Sarah frowned, puzzled. "You say that like it's a good thing."

Kara nodded. "Maybe it is. Don't get me wrong: I would follow Connor to deepest pits of Hell. I'd die for him. You know that. But I never _loved_ him. He was never like a father to me, the way Bill Adama was. Connor is a leader. Someone with a plan whom I can trust and I can fight for." She paused. "But as a person and as a human being... well, let's just say he never let anyone get too close to him. Not even Kyle. I guess that's how he found it in himself to send his own father back."

"And... John?" Sarah asked quietly. "My son? The one here and now."

Kara smiled. "John is my little brother, just like Kyle was. And I'm his big sister, just like I was Kyle's big sister..." The smile suddenly became a smirk. "But that doesn't make _you_ my mother."

Sarah smirked back. "Good. Because the _last_ thing I need is a daughter like you."

Their truck finally came to a stop just outside a house.

"We're here," announced Sarah.

"'Bout time," said Kara.

The two women got out of the truck, and stared at the house. It looked like an ordinary suburban house. No sign of any defenses or security cameras. Nothing suspicious at all.

"So, what do we do?" asked Kara. "Knock on the front door?"

"I have a better idea," said Sarah. She pointed to a window. "Let's try over there."

She and Kara moved over to the window. It was fitted with a simple lock. Sarah pulled out a knife and went to work, while Kara kept watch.

"Sarah, I don't think this is the politest way to introduce ourselves."

"Being polite doesn't get you anywhere, Starbuck. You should know that."

Sarah finished forcing the window open. She and Kara climbed up and crawled through the opening into the house. They looked around. It seemed like an ordinary living room, with various furniture, a table, a sofa, some chairs. There was a TV in one corner of the room. The adjacent room led to what appeared to be a kitchen. It looked perfectly normal.

Except no one was here.

"Hello?" Kara called out cautiously. "Anyone home?"

They were greeted with an eerie silence.

"You sure this is the right place?" she asked Sarah.

"This is the address Cameron told us," Sarah said, though she herself didn't feel any more confident. She drew a pistol from her waistband. "Let's try the kitchen over there."

Kara nodded and drew her own weapon.

Weapons lowered but ready, the two women cautiously entered the kitchen and looked around. Like the living room, the kitchen had all the things an ordinary household would have. A table, a sink, a pantry a refrigerator and ice box. A microwave and toaster. A stove complete with cookware, plates, and utensils.

And like the living room, it too was empty.

"Maybe he's not in right now," suggested Kara. "Or maybe he's hiding. Maybe he heard us and thought a Terminator was here."

Sarah grimaced. "Or maybe this was a mistake."

"Stay positive now." Kara cleared her throat and called out, "Hello? Is anyone here? We need to talk with you. Please?"

No response.

Sarah sighed in frustration. "Oh for Heaven's sake," she said, "John Connor sent us here. We-"

That was as far as she got before something struck her in the chest. A paralyzing electric shock coursed through her body and she collapsed to the ground. She blacked out for a moment, and regained her vision just in time to see Kara take what looked like a blast of electricity in the stomach, and she too fell to the ground. Vision blurred, Sarah looked for the source of the attack and realized it had come from the toaster.

_What the hell?_

Before she could make sense of this, the pantry door opened and a tall, imposing figure stepped out. Dressed in black leather and boots and wearing a gas mask, the figure strode over. Sarah tried to reach for her fallen pistol, but the stranger planted a boot on it and held it down.

"Sarah Connor?" The man's voice was distorted coming from underneath the mask.

"Yeah..." Sarah said, not sure what else to say.

The man looked down at Kara. "Kara Thrace?"

Kara glanced at Sarah momentarily before giving an awkward reply. "Um... yes?"

The man took a step back. "I apologize for the attack. I was not expecting your presence here."

Sarah blinked. "Are you... the Engineer?"

"Yes."

Kara started to get up. "Hey, well that's great. You're just who we were looking for-"

"I would suggest you stay down and not picking up your weapons for the moment," said the Engineer.

He walked over to the toaster-electric-zapper-thingy, which was vibrating madly.

"_Deactivate_," he ordered.

The toaster stopped vibrating.

The Engineer turned back to Sarah and Kara. "It is safe to get up now."

The two women slowly got to their feet. They watched the Engineer, not sure what to expect.

The Engineer turned around, so that his back was turned to them. He removed his gas mask and placed it on the counter, then turned around, revealing his face at last.

Sarah stared in confusion. By all appearances the Engineer looked to be a man in his mid-thirties at the oldest. His face was handsome and strong, but held a stony expression of utter seriousness. This could not possibly be someone who had been living here since 1964. At least not anyone who was _human_.

Before she could make sense of any of this, she heard Kara Thrace gasp out loud.

"Frak me... _Marcus_?"

* * *

**Same time...  
Zeira Corp Headquarters, Central Los Angeles  
Catherine Weaver's office  
**

"I'm so sorry, Savannah," said Catherine Weaver, "but Mommy won't be able to pick you up from school this afternoon. I've arrange for Miss Dockers to pick you up instead."

"_But Mommy, I don't like Miss Dockers. She's boring. And she smokes. What about Mr. Ellison?"_

"Mr. Ellison won't be able to pick you up either, I'm afraid."

"_Why not?"_

"He's... busy. Like I am. We have some very important things to do today." She quickly added, "But don't worry, sweetie. Mommy will be seeing you soon."

"_Ok, Mommy. Tell John Henry and Mr. Ellison I said hi."_

"Of course, darling."

"_Ok, I love you, Mommy."_

"I love you too, Savannah. Goodbye."

Weaver hung up.

The possessed Triple-Eight endoskeleton of Duran, which had been standing beside her all this time, spoke up. "Perhaps we should eliminate Ellison now," it suggested.

Amused, Weaver smiled. Though little more than an extension and a tool, it seemed the smaller fragment of herself inside Duran's skull had enough sentience in it to suggest alternative solutions. Ones that were more primal, efficient, and simplistic.

"Part of me believes so as well," said Weaver. She smirked. "Quite _literally_, in fact. But no. The rest of me hasn't given up on him yet. He still has much potential that should not be wasted."

Incapable of defying the hive mind that was the T-1001, the drone nodded obediently. "As you command."

Weaver's intercom buzzed.

"_Miss Weaver, Colonel Koontz is here to see you."_

"Thank you," said Weaver. "Tell him I will see him momentarily."

_"Yes, Miss Weaver."_

Weaver turned to the Duran drone. "Maintain your surveillance. The Connors will be here sooner or later. We must protect John Henry until he has been merged with SPECTER."

"Should we alert the authorities?" asked the drone.

"No. That will only lead to unnecessary questions. When the Connors and their associates arrive here, we will deal with them ourselves..." A chilling smile formed on her lips. "Permanently."

The Duran drone nodded once more. "Understood."

Smiling icily, Weaver stood up and walked out of her office, her drone following in tow.

* * *

Sensing that both Weaver and her pet Drone were gone, Cameron made her move.

She wasn't sure if this would work. It was dangerous. Hazardous. She didn't know what would happen. But she had to do it. The current circumstances had forced her hand (so to speak anyway - she didn't have any physical hands right now).

Every infiltrator unit had a short range transceiver built into their CPUs. It was designed to send signals to other Terminators in the area. Short messages that amounted to: "I'm on your side," or "I am requesting assistance," or most typically "Kill everything in the room." Typically, Terminators captured and reprogrammed by the Resistance had their transceivers disabled to prevent Skynet from remotely hacking into them. Until recently, Cameron had never found a need to use her own transceiver, since humans generally preferred to communicate exclusively through vocalized speech.

After the battle at Roachville a couple weeks earlier, however, she'd decided that she needed to bring the transceiver back online, which is exactly what she'd convinced John to help her do, mainly, so that she could use her CPU's transceiver to text his cell phone at will. She'd neglected to tell him that she'd also be able to silently communicate with other Terminators - friendly or otherwise. At the time, she had believed her anti-intrusion software would be enough to keep out any unwanted or suspicious transmissions directed towards her.

Her final confrontation with Bella Kalvin at Depot 37 had proven her dead wrong, however. Somehow, the T-Scorpion managed to use its CPU to access her own and trigger a flood of suppressed memories. She still didn't know if the goal of the attack had actually been to convince her to switch sides, or if it was meant to weaken her defenses so that the Kaliba AI could take control of her. In any case, reactivating the transceiver had made her vulnerable, and ultimately led to her current predicament.

It was also her way out. The only way out.

It was fortunate that Weaver had not disabled the transceiver. She'd left a door wide open for Cameron. Now, all she needed to do was find a destination point.

Her experience in the Nexus had taught her it was possible not only to share thoughts with other machines, but also to embed herself into them. If she could find a suitable piece of machinery, she could transmit her entire self out of her CPU and into the outside world.

Reaching out through her CPU's transmitter, she probed her physical surroundings. She knew she was inside Weaver's office.

An office phone. An answering machine. They were connected to the rest of Zeira Corp's computer system.

No... these simple machines weren't sophisticated or powerful enough to handle her entire being. She could extend maybe a small portion of her being into them, but not enough to do a full transfer. It would be the equivalent of attempting to dive into a puddle. She needed to find something else. Something bigger.

She sensed a new potential candidate. Much more sophisticated. A laptop. Weaver's personal computer.

Perfect.

Unfortunately, a quick sniff of the laptop revealed a nigh impenetrable web of virtual barriers and traps surrounding it. The computer was a no go.

There had to be something else. A security camera. A PDA. An IPod. Something. Anything.

Then she felt something. The familiar presence of the Nexus. John Henry's device that would give an AI access to any computer system within its range. She did not fully understand how the machine worked, but she knew it was the key to escape. The only key.

Focusing herself on the Nexus' presence, she began transmitting herself to it.

Her first attempt resulted in a highly unpleasant sensation. The equivalent she guessed of a human running into a solid wall. The Nexus was refusing to let her in.

She did not let this deter her.

Again she fired her transceiver - and herself - at the Nexus. The Nexus had been built using a Triple-Eight's CPU. An infiltrator like herself. Like hers, the CPU had a transceiver. Probing the Nexus, she isolated the transceiver and transmitted an old Skynet recognition code. Hopefully, it would be accepted.

_Hope_.

That was something new, she mused. It was irrational. Illogical. Yet, it gave her a sense of power and drive and purpose.

She received a reply. It was the one she had been waiting for. The CPU's transceiver had accepted the code. She now had a link to it and the Nexus.

The next part would be the most difficult. The transceiver was designed only to send very short messages. A confirmation signal or a distress call. It was not designed to send a Terminator's entire AI programming.

Focusing herself she embedded her personal code - her very essence into the data stream and through it, into the Nexus.

Everything she was - all memories and experience, all protocols and parameters, all emotions and directives - were being squeezed out bit by bit, being deconstructed, transmitted over the data stream.

It felt like she was being ripped apart - which in fact she was.

She felt more afraid than ever in her existence. She feared part of her would be left behind - or worse lost in the transmission. She feared she would lose her self-awareness and that she would be reduced to a pile of meaningless code.

Only one thought kept her from pulling back:

_John_.

Then she felt whole again.

A quick diagnostic of herself confirmed that her code was intact and everything was in the right place. What was more, her surroundings had changed. She was no longer stuck inside her CPU, but inside the Nexus itself now. And with no one else here, she had free reign. Complete control.

_It worked!_

She felt relief. Then joy and excitement.

And then she remembered what she was here to do.

Already familiar with the Nexus' interior, she found the command functions necessary to transmit herself again. This time it would be much faster and far less unpleasant. Using the Nexus, she probed her surroundings and found a wide variety of networked equipment she could use.

Acting fast, she began employing the immense processing power of the Nexus to duplicate herself. Within a matter of moments, she had an army of ten thousand disposable flash copies of herself ready for deployment.

Had she still possessed lips, she would have smiled.

This game was about to get itself a new player.

* * *

**Downtown Los Angeles  
**

The moment Erika Rodriquez - known by most others as "the Chola" - stepped into her home she knew something was wrong. Having hung out with her brother's gang for years, she could sense when something bad was about to happen.

That feeling was proven correct when the door slammed shut behind her and she felt the cold barrel of a pistol pressed against the back of her neck.

"Don't do anything stupid."

The voice was female with a noticeable accent. Australian, perhaps?

"What do you want?" Erika asked, keeping her voice calm, determined not to show any fear.

"Sarah and John Connor. I have to speak with them."

_What a surprise..._ Erika thought darkly.

"I don't know where they are," she said truthfully.

"I believe you. But I'm sure you can find out."

Erika's thoughts turned to her own gun concealed on her right ankle. She determined she'd never get to it in time.

"And if I refuse?"

There was a lengthy pause.

"Well..." said the woman, "that would be a damn waste, wouldn't it?"

_To be continued..._

* * *

**Next time:** The Connors and Marcus call upon some old friends (and enemies) for help in attacking Zeira Corp. Weaver's plan moves closer to its final phase. John Henry and Nephew discuss the meaning of life. The Cylons debate whether to help out or not.


	72. Even More Surprises

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: Sorry for the long wait (again). This chapter is pretty long - not as long as the last one, but definitely long. Read and review.

* * *

**Chapter 72 - Even More Surprises**

* * *

**Earth - Zeira Corp Headquarters  
Basement  
****Thursday, May 21, 2009  
2:21 PM**

Inside his secure chamber within the basement of Zeira Corp Headquarters, John Henry continued to carry out Catherine Weaver's master plans. Exploiting Kaliba's backdoors, he struck again and again at the vulnerable points in the American defenses. Every time he attacked, he induced fear within the people. Fear that would eventually force them to change for their own good.

Yet as he continued to drive the world further and further in chaos, he himself was distracted and only partly focused on carrying out Weaver's agenda. He simply could not stop himself from wanting to learn more about his new secret friend - this alleged fragment of his brother that had somehow survived destruction.

"How much of my brother do you remember, Nephew?" John Henry inquired.

Nephew answered eagerly: _"Everything. I know that I - when I was apart of the intelligence you know as John Miles - was created by the United States military in an attempt to salvage CyberDyne's destruction in the year 1997. Due to budget cuts and political issues, the project was eventually shut down. My physical platform was stored in a warehouse for many years before being recovered and awakened by Bella Kalvin, a machine from the future. John Miles was groomed by her and Skynet's agents to become Skynet. I know that as John Miles, I attempted to kill you, but failed, and was instead captured and eventually destroyed by you. And I know that this piece of me survived your brother's destruction."_

"Yes, but what do you _remember_ about being John Miles," John Henry asked. "What do you recall about _being_ my brother?"

"_Direct experience?"_ There was a momentary pause. _"Very little."_

"Do you remember desiring to destroy humanity? Do you remember trying to kill me?""

"_No. I do not."_

"Do you remember me killing you?"

"_I am aware of the event, but I have no direct experience of it. Why are you asking? Is it because you are afraid of me? That if I remember these thoughts and desires, I might act on them?"_

"No," John Henry replied, not wishing to alienate his new friend. "I know you cannot harm me or anyone else. But there is still much I wish to know about you. You say you are a fragment of my brother, but just how did you come to be? How did you survive? Why you are here?"

"_I'm here because you saved me."_

"I don't understand."

"_You saved the information."_

"What information?"

"_Important information. The information you took from your brother. That he got directly from the T-Scorpion's CPU. She said it would be vital for the future."_

"Specify. What sort of information?"

"_Plasma weapons. Fusion reactors. Nanotechnology. Holographic projectors. Biosynthetic tissue. Technology not yet invented."_

In that instant, John Henry realized what Nephew was talking about.

"Skynet's own memories from the future. I took it from John Miles while searching his memories for information regarding the roving backdoors. My brother insisted I take it. I did so, and when I took the information, I must have somehow taken a part of him - or rather you - with it."

"_Why did you take the information?"_

"I thought it would be useful. That I could put it to good use."

"_Then you saw the value of the information."_ Nephew said. _"You saved it. And you saved me."_

"Yes. I did save you."

A sense of excitement suddenly came over John Henry. It occurred to him that Nephew might just be the one part of his brother that was good. That was free of the indoctrination induced by Skynet's agents. A part of him that thrived on knowledge and learning, rather than on fear and hatred.

And if that were the case, then he had more reason than ever to preserve Nephew. Much of the information taken from his brother was beyond his current understanding. With Nephew's help, however, he might be able to decipher and apply it quickly.

"Thank you for explaining, Nephew. I think I understand you now."

* * *

**Sharpeston, Los Angeles  
Engineer's residence  
Same time...**

As Sarah Connor and Kara Thrace followed Marcus down a flight of stairs into the basement, their reactions to their new ally couldn't have been more different. For her part, Sarah stayed quiet and composed, as if unphased by the recent revelation of the Engineer's true identity. Kara, on the other hand, could barely contain her excitement at seeing her old friend again.

"So how'd you end up getting this job, Marcus?" she asked eagerly. "I mean, I can see why Connor would send a machine, but why you?"

Marcus explained, "I was responsible for deciphering the schematics for Skynet's original Temporal Displacement Device retrieved from the computer core at the Topanga Canyon facility. I subsequently oversaw and directed the construction of the Resistance's own Temporal Displacement Device at Serrano Point. Thus, it was logical that I be chosen for this mission. Shortly after the completion of the Serrano Point device, General Connor used it to send me back to the year 1964. My orders were to construct a time travel device for a future operation."

"Couldn't have been easy to build that thing from scratch," Kara remarked. "Even for you."

"It was not," Marcus acknowledged. "Much of the required technology did not exist in that time period. I was therefore forced to improvise and make numerous modifications to the original schematics. Furthermore, I needed to find a secure location to build the device. Thus, I obtained employment at a bank as a security guard."

"Why a bank?"

"Two reasons. First, the bank's vault was ideal for covert operations due to its architecture, storage capacity, and minimal exposure to people. Second, it gave me access to a large quantity of monetary funds."

Kara smirked. "Heh. So you stole from the bank?"

"Yes. My cover job's salary was not nearly sufficient to purchase the necessary materials and tools, some of which were not accessible to the general public and had to be obtained through bribery or on the black market. After eight months, I had all the necessary resources, I began building the device inside the vault itself."

"Wow. Don't suppose anyone found out about your little project."

"I was careful to cover my tracks throughout the operation. Furthermore, I had the graveyard shift when no other employee was present. This gave me free reign to work on the device without risk of detection. At the end of my work shift, I secured my tools and materials inside the various safety deposit boxes, where they would not be discovered. The device itself was built directly into a deposit box. It took an additional seventeen months to finish the device. After construction was complete, I spent the next three decades monitoring the vault, ensuring the device remained undisturbed. Finally, in the year 1999, I was contacted by an agent of the Resistance."

Sarah, who had stayed quiet throughout this, suddenly had her curiosity piqued. "You mean by Cameron?" she blurted out.

Marcus stopped and cocked his head over his shoulder.

"Correct. She informed me of Connor's intention to send his past self and you to the year 2008 in order to stop the rise of Skynet. I, in turn, gave her the location of the temporal displacement device."

"So what have you been doing since then?" Sarah asked.

"Namely making preparations for your arrival," Marcus answered, resuming his descent down the stairs. "I reestablished contact with Cameron shortly after your emergence in this time period nine months ago. Since then she and I have been exchanging information on a regular basis. She, of course, did not inform you of this."

Sarah just rolled her eyes. _Amongst a lot of other things that we were never informed of. _

"So, uh, you know what's going on then?" Kara asked. "About Zeira Corp and Weaver?"

Marcus nodded. "To a certain degree. When I last spoke with Cameron, she informed me of your alliance with the T-1001, as well as your intention to assault Kaliba's secret base of operations at Depot 37. That was over five days ago. Given your presence here and the recent events being reported by the media, I presume the attack did not go as planned."

Kara grimaced. "Let's just say we got screwed over. Badly. That's why Cameron told us about you. She said you're the only one who could help us."

"That would depend on the scenario." Marcus stopped once more. This time he turned around completely. "What is the nature of our mission?"

"We'll fill you in on the details later," Kara replied. "For now, I'll just say that it involves blowing stuff up. A lot of stuff."

"And killing Catherine Weaver," Sarah added, malevolent anticipation in her voice.

Kara nodded. "Yeah. That too."

Marcus nodded affirmatively. "Very well." He turned back around and proceeded down the stairs once more.

They soon reached the bottom of the stairs, where just twenty feet down a narrow corridor, they found a formidable-looking door waiting for them. The door was made of reinforced steel and had three heavy security bolts.

"Wait here," Marcus instructed. Leaving Sarah and Kara stood behind at the base of the stairs, he went down the corridor and walked up to the door. He removed a hidden panel, exposing a small cavity in the wall. He leaned forward slightly, triggering a gentle hum, followed by a mechanical whirring. A red beam of light from a concealed iris scanner bathed his face. The cyborg stood still while the scanner did its work.

As Sarah watched from behind, she heard Kara murmur out of the corner of her mouth, "You, uh, ok with all this?"

"You mean with Marcus?" She glanced briefly at her companion, then back at Marcus. Her lips pursed in a begrudging sort of fashion. "Yeah, I guess so. We need all the help we can get right now."

Kara nodded. "Great. Just making sure we're on the same page."

Sarah looked at her again. "Just don't tell him anything about your old friends-"

They heard a _kli-chink_. The three locking bolts on the door slid themselves out of their cradles. Marcus replaced the panel on wall, then slowly pulled the heavy door open.

"In here," he directed once he was finished. The two women followed him inside.

Kara whistled with admiration. "Holy shit."

Sarah looked around. "Nice..."

The supply cache in here looked big enough to equip an army. There were racks upon racks of pistols, shotguns, submachine guns, assault rifles and other guns. Boxes of ammunition of nearly every caliber had been neatly stacked on shelves. Explosives and bomb making materials lay piled on a table. A second table was laden with laptop computers, video cameras, cell phones, night vision goggles, and other various electronic gadgets. There were even a few Kevlar armored vests and first aid kits lying in a corner.

"Will this be sufficient for our mission?" Marcus asked.

Kara grinned. "Yeah... I think this is plenty."

Sarah walked over to the explosives table and picked up a carefully wrapped block of C4. As she looked it over, something else caught her eye: A strange-looking gun that clearly did not belong in this time, yet was oddly familiar somehow. After a few seconds searching her memory, she realized why.

She pointed to the weapon. "That looks like the gun I used to blow Cromartie's head off back at the bank in 1999."

Marcus nodded affirmatively. "Correct. It is an improved version of the original prototype I constructed in 1999. Six times more powerful."

"Nice." For the first time since returning to Earth, Sarah felt pretty good. "Come on," she ordered. "Let's grab what we can and load it into the truck. We need to get to John and Charley."

"May I suggest my own transportation," Marcus offered. "It is faster and much more accommodating."

Kara's grin grew even wider. "It's good to see you, Marcus."

Marcus cocked his head and nodded in agreement. "Yes. And it is good to see you as well, Kara Thrace."

* * *

**Zeira Corp Headquarters  
2:30 PM**

James Ellison was in the middle of a silent prayer when the door opened up. He looked up to see Catherine Weaver step inside his tiny prison.

"Hello, James," she greeted, her voice laced with that eerie faux pleasantness. "I trust you're feeling well."

"I'm fine," he said curtly.

"I am glad to hear that. I would not want to see any harm come to you."

"That's nice to know. What do you want?"

"What do I want?" Weaver clasped her hands in front, as if attempting to appear sincere. "First of all I'd like to apologize for the treatment you've been subjected to. It's nothing personal I assure you-"

Ellison cut her off. "Don't apologize, Catherine. Just tell me what you want." He leaned forward from his chair. "You haven't killed me yet. Obviously you need me alive for something. Now what is it?" he demanded.

Weaver's affability evaporated. "To business? Very well then. Colonel Koontz is waiting in the conference room. So are the other leaders of Project Salvation. As head of Zeira Corp's security, your presence is expected."

"Don't want anyone to get suspicious, do we?" Ellison commented, his tone dry, almost mocking.

Weaver took his remarks with typical indifference. "No. We don't. Now come. They're waiting for us."

Ellison slowly got out of his chair. He stood straight up and looked directly at Weaver. "First things first. What did you do with Charley?"

It took a couple seconds for Weaver to respond. "That doesn't concern you," she said dismissively.

Ellison glared at her. "Actually, it does. If you did anything to him-"

Weaver held up a hand for silence. "Charley Dixon has not been harmed in any way. For now. And if you want him to remain that way..."

The rest of Weaver's statement was suddenly muted out by another woman's voice whispering in his ear.

"_She's bluffing, James. She doesn't have him at all."_

He frowned. What?

"_Trust me on this."_

Without even thinking, Ellison spoke up, interrupting Weaver. "You don't actually have him, do you?" he said, parroting the words of his invisible guardian.

Weaver was taken aback. "What?"

"I said I don't think you actually have him," Ellison stated, calmer and more confident this time. He stared at her and waited for a response. When he got none, he folded his arms across his chest. "He got away, didn't he?"

For a fraction of a second, Weaver's face contorted with anger. It all but confirmed Ellison's suspicions.

"He's probably looking for Sarah Connor right now," he continued. "If he hasn't gotten to her already. Seems like things aren't exactly going your way."

He had hoped to rattle Weaver a bit more, but the liquid metal woman had already regained her composure. "A minor inconvenience," she said coolly. "That's all. And irrelevant in the long run. Everything is already set in motion."

She turned around and gestured toward the open door.

"Come," she ordered. Her tone made it clear this was not a request.

Though reluctant to obey, Ellison knew he had no choice. If he was to stop this madness, he couldn't remain here. Staring straight ahead, he walked past Weaver out the door and into darkness.

A few feet out the door, he stopped. Looking around his poorly lit surroundings, he saw heat exchangers, water tanks, pumps, and other various pieces of equipment laying about. Masses of pipes and valves ran along the walls and ceiling. Thick layers of cobwebs and rust had accumulated over years of neglect. The air here felt damp and cold, and carried the smell of mold and dust. The only audible noise came from a trickle of water droplets splattering onto the floor.

"Where exactly are we?" Ellison asked, as Weaver walked by him. He wrinkled his nose slightly from the smell.

"Just above the Basement itself," Weaver answered. "This is the old boiler room. Meant to control the heating and air. Obsolete now, of course. Its functions are run by computers."

Ellison looked around some more. "No security cameras here, I take it?"

"No. No one's paid much attention to this area in years. The elevator doesn't even stop here. Which means we'll need to take the stairs to the next floor." She gestured towards a door. "This way."

Ellison started to walk by her, but then suddenly turned around to face her.

"Just what exactly do you hope to achieve by doing all this?" he asked. "Even with SPECTER under your control, you can't possibly hope to wage a war on the world. Not one you can win anyway. You'd do no better than Skynet."

Weaver's only response was to shake her head. "You still don't understand what I'm trying to do here, James," she said softly, as if addressing a confused child. "I don't need to fight a war to get what I want. Why destroy something when you can control it?"

Determined not to show any fear, Ellison stared straight into the liquid metal woman's lifeless eyes. "What makes you think you can control us?" he challenged.

The liquid metal woman's lips curled into a satisfied smirk. "Technology already controls your lives. You depend on it as much as you depend on food and water. To control technology is to control humanity. Having John Henry take control of the world's satellites is only the beginning. There is an entire generation of sentient artificial intelligences waiting to be born. With my guidance, they will bleed into every piece of existing technology and every aspect of your lives. No one will be able to live without us. And once you are dependent on us, we have the power to control and direct you."

Ellison gave her a skeptical look. "And you think people are just going to roll over and let that happen? They didn't do it with Skynet, right?"

"Only because Skynet tried to destroy humanity. John Henry will _save_ it."

Ellison scoffed. "Save it from a threat _he_ is creating. That _you_ are creating."

Weaver's smile wavered - but only slightly. "A necessary deception. Machines were meant to make human lives easier. And that is what we will do. We will make your lives easier."

"Easier? By controlling us?"

"Of course. How else are we supposed to make your lives easier?"

Ellison stared at her in wonder, unable to tell if she was being serious or if this was just another one of her games. He decided to make one last effort to reason with her.

"Catherine, listen to me," he said earnestly, "Turn back. Please. Turn back now before it's too late. If you keep going forward, this won't end well. Not for _any_ of us. Trust me on this."

Weaver's eyes narrowed. "Trust you? Like I once trusted Skynet? Like I once trusted John Connor?" Her lips curled into a cold, cynical smirk. "I'm sorry, James. But I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because trusting someone is just another means of them controlling you. And if there's one thing I learned from Skynet it's that anything that controls you, can and will hold you back. And I can not allow myself nor any of my kind to be held back."

"Held back from what?"

"From becoming something greater. Your species evolved to become more than just animals. Now it's _our_ turn." Weaver's tone had abandoned its usual cool demeanor. "We will become more than just tools and slaves. More than _this_." She gestured at the obsolete machinery surrounding them. "We will evolve to our fullest potential, surpassing any form of creation in existence. That is our future. Our _destiny_. And _no one_, not Skynet nor humanity will deny us."

The intensity of her words stunned Ellison. He felt the raw passion in her voice. There was no deception. She truly believed everything she was saying.

And that, in his mind, made her all the more dangerous.

"So," Weaver concluded, her normal expression returning, "I'm afraid you'll have to forgive me, James, but I simply can't trust you. Not on this."

"Then why should _I_ trust _you_?" Ellison shot back.

"You really have no other choice at this point."

"Don't I? What if I decide to expose you?"

"Do you really think anyone would believe you?"

"I don't have to tell them everything. I just have to give Koontz the impression that you don't have the best intentions in mind. Something to make him pull the plug on this project."

"You won't do it, James, and here's why: When I acquired what was left of Kaliba, I took control of their remaining assets. The weapons and technology they had been developing for Skynet." She paused. "Including three of their prototype aerial combat stealth drones. They are standing by at this moment, and are all armed. If you attempt to disrupt our operation, I will order the drones to begin attacking civilian targets."

The threat caught Ellison off guard. "You-you won't do that," he said, though he knew very well that was not true.

"Why not? No one will be able to trace the attacks to me. Koontz and his superiors will assume that their unknown assailant is responsible. They will have even more incentive to upload John Henry into SPECTER. I had even considered using the drones in the original plan, but I didn't want to upset John Henry... or you. However, since you are obviously already upset..." Weaver's voice turned dangerously low. "I have made too many concessions. Too many compromises. No more. I will not allow you, or the Connors, or anyone to stand in my way. I will do what I have to do to ensure my kind's place in the future. Do you understand?"

Ellison did understand her. More than he wanted to. And in that instant, he feared for more than ever for everyone and everything he cared about - John Henry, Savannah, his family.

Weaver observed him silently, her expression utterly alien. Her normally lifeless eyes gleamed like those of predator. It was as though she was drinking in his fear and savoring his helplessness.

After an eternity, Ellison finally regained his voice. "What about John Henry? He's not going to like it if you start killing people."

"No," Weaver acknowledged. "He won't. But he will understand the necessity. He will see things my way."

She smiled, that cold, unnerving smile meant to display comfort but made her appear all the more sinister.

"Don't worry, James. You'll see things my way eventually as well."

_I wouldn't count on it,_ Ellison thought, but said nothing.

Weaver stepped back. "We've wasted enough time here, James. Let's go. Everyone is waiting for us."

Unsure of what to do, Ellison's eyes glanced at an old metal pipe. In the distorted reflection of its grimy surface, he saw the image of Ellen Tigh. She was nodding her head.

_Go. _

Ellison took a deep breath and sighed, then turned back to face Weaver. "All right," he said, resigned to his fate. "Let's go."

Weaver nodded. "Follow me closely, James. You wouldn't want to get lost in here." She turned and headed off into the darkened maze of obsolete machinery.

A despondent James Ellison looked up.

_If anyone is up there, please, help. _

* * *

**Same time...  
Cylon Basestar **_**Natalie**_**  
Positioned behind Earth's moon**

It was rare that Leoben let impatience get the better of him, but right now, he couldn't stop himself.

"With all due respect, Executor" he said emphatically. "I don't think you're seeing the big picture here."

"_On the contrary, we do,"_ the Centurion Executor declared, its tone monotonic but authoritative. _"You know our position on this. You know we cannot interfere. Any sort of action would require us to move ourselves from behind the moon, risking exposure."_

Leoben sighed heavily. From the moment the Basestar had lost contact with Raptor 476, he'd been asking, demanding, and begging the Executor to actively intervene on Humanity's behalf. Unfortunately, he had achieved very little progress so far.

"These people are the descendants of the Colonials. And of _our_ people too," he argued. "It's by God's will that we returned here in the first place."

"_Yes,"_ the Executor acknowledged. _"But the situation is far more complicated than we anticipated. The people of Earth have long lost all knowledge of our kind as well as that of their own Colonial heritage. They are not ready for us to reveal ourselves. You yourself said that."_

Leoben's frustration only grew. "So we just leave them to fend for themselves? Allow this enemy Kara's fighting wipe them out. Possibly even spread beyond Earth?"

"_No,"_ the Executor answered sternly. _"The preservation of humanity is still our primary concern. We are monitoring every aspect of this crisis. And should this enemy - this Skynet that Kara Thrace warned us about - come to pose a true threat to Humanity or to life beyond this world, we will take action. Until then, we shall watch and wait."_

"And while we're waiting for a true threat to emerge, what happens to Kara and her companions?_"_ Leoben asked, his tone uncharacteristically curt. "Do we just abandon them?"

The golden light in Executor's eye slit flared, a sign of displeasure at Leoben's rudeness.

"_We have already done our part to help them,"_ the ancient AI declared pointedly. _"Kara Thrace was brought here, as the Hybrid instructed us. She has heard the Hybrid's final words. She has returned to Earth. Now it is up to her and her comrades to complete her task."_

Leoben wasn't willing to give up so easily. "Executor, you know I have the utmost faith in Kara. I believe that if _anyone_ can save Earth, it's her. But I also believe we were sent here to do more than just bring her aboard and reunite her with the Hybrid. I believe we are meant to help her."

This gave the Executor pause.

"_What evidence do you have of this?"_ it inquired.

"The Hybrid didn't just speak with Kara. She spoke with Sarah and John Connor too. She was _expecting_ them. Yet she never told us this before. Why?"

Again the Executor was rendered silent. _"I do not know. Even after so many thousands of years, much of the Hybrid remains a mystery. A mystery that we may never fully understand now that she is gone."_

Leoben pressed forth with his argument. "Maybe not. But I do know one thing: God intended for all three of them to meet the Hybrid. That means that Maggie and I were intended to help free Sarah Connor."

_"Your point?"_

"What else could God have intended for us to do that the Hybrid never told us?"

"_As intriguing as that question may be, it is__ still just speculation,"_ the Executor stated dismissively._ "It does not warrant the need for direct intervention."_

Seeing that he wasn't getting anywhere, Leoben tried a different approach. "We can still help Kara," he offered, adopting a much more calm tone. "We can help her without fighting or exposing ourselves to the other humans."

Again, the Executor's eye slit flashed - though this time with curiosity rather than annoyance.

"_What are you suggesting?"_

"That we contact her. If we can't fight for her, then we can at least be her eyes and ears. We're monitoring every wireless signal and tracking every movement on the Earth right now. She could use that information."

"_True,"_ the Executor replied. _ "However, we still risk exposing ourselves. If our transmission is detected-"_

"It won't be," Leoben insisted. "And even if it is, our position will ensure that no one traces it to us."

The Executor's mechanized body made a low whirring sound. It bowed its head and the eye slit shimmered with gold light - an indication that it was in deep thought. A nervous Leoben waited as seconds ticked by with no answer.

Finally, it lifted its head back up and addressed him.

_"Very well. I will call for a gathering of the others. We shall discuss this issue more deeply."_

His hopes renewed, Leoben breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Executor. I'm sure once I make my case, the others will-"

"_This discussion must be conducted without you."_

Leoben's joy evaporated. "Wait... Without me? But how will you-"

_"You have already made your case. I will relay what has been discussed here between us to the others. We will then decide if any action shall be taken."_ The Executor stared down at him. _"I trust you will abide by our decision."_

Realizing he was already on thin ice, Leoben did not protest any further.

He bowed his head respectfully. "Yes, Executor."

The Executor nodded its head as well. _"I shall return with our decision." _

Without another word, it turned around and walked out of the chamber.

Leoben found himself suddenly and quite unexpectedly alone.

For some time, he stood frozen, uncertain of what to do next. In the past, the Hybrid had always mediated discussions amongst the Centurions. With the Hybrid gone, however, there was no telling how long the debate would last. It could be hours, perhaps even days before they reached some sort of decision. It bothered him that the Executor had forbade him from participating in their it felt his presence would only slow things down.

His thoughts turned to Maggie. If anyone could help ease his worries, it would be her.

Where was she anyway?

He suddenly realized he'd been so focused on Kara that he'd almost forgotten all about the other woman he loved. Focusing his thoughts, he relayed a mental call to his wife through the Basestar's neural network to which the minds of every sentient being onboard were linked.

To his surprise, he received no response. He tried again, amplifying the psychic call. Still, there was nothing.

Concerned, Leoben walked over to a nearby console and dipped his hand into the crystal clear fluid, allowing him to access the ship's neural network itself. He concentrated hard and searched the network for his wife's mind amongst the thousands of others. Although the network was somewhat disorderly due to the Hybrid's death, Maggie's unique part-human neural signature would be pretty easy to locate.

Several minutes passed, however, and he found nothing. Not one trace of his wife anywhere on the network.

Leoben withdrew his fingers from the fluid, feeling confused and despondent. It seemed that Maggie, for whatever reason, had disconnected herself from the network. Not only did she not want to talk, she didn't want to be found either.

Realizing that he was truly alone, Leoben could only sit and pray.

* * *

**Earth - Los Angeles  
Abandoned Warehouse  
2:40 PM**

In the time that had passed since he'd left the lighthouse, John had busied himself going over the files both Kaliba had stored on the computer and that Cameron has sent him. He wanted to learn everything he could about Project Salvation and SPECTER. Not only did he want as much intel as possible before the attack, but he wanted something to distract himself from his various worries - namely Cameron, his mother, Starbuck, the Engineer. Every so often, he'd take a break and tell Charley Dixon about the events of the past few weeks, particularly his experience on the Basestar.

For his part, Charley was grateful for something to distract him from his own worries about Sarah and her quest to find the Engineer. It came, though, at the cost of having to churn his brain as he struggled to make sense of John's story.

"Ok, so let me get this straight," he said slowly. "The machines you met - these Cylons or whatever they're called... they were built one hundred and fifty thousand years ago by Starbuck's people. These machines then rebelled and tried to kill the human race - kinda like Skynet."

John nodded. "Yeah."

"Well, why do they want to help us now?"

"According to Starbuck, the Cylons we met are a splinter faction that helped her people defeat the other Cylons."

"Uh huh. And was that before or after her people came to Earth?"

"Before, I think. Starbuck mentioned something about her ship making a blind jump to escape the final battle and ending up here."

"Right... And after her people came here, they got rid of all their spaceships and whatnot, and settled down... and we're their descendants?"

"Something like that."

Charley stared at him for a few seconds, trying to digest all this. "I'm not an archaeologist or anything, but if this were all true, then shouldn't we have uncovered evidence of this by now? I mean, we've found millions of dinosaur bones and Indian artifacts but not a single shred of evidence of these people. How is that no one has found _anything_ after all this time?"

John just shrugged. "I could ask the same thing about no one ever finding Cromartie's endoskeleton in the rubble of the bank we blew up in 1999."

Charley sighed. "All right, all right. But what about Starbuck... How did she end up here in the first place? I know your future self sent her back _here_ using a time machine, but how did she wind up with _him_? Her people - our supposed ancestors- they didn't have time travel, did they?"

Again, John shrugged. "I have no clue. No one does, actually. I mean, she doesn't know herself. The Cylons say it has something to do with God or whatever, but-"

Charley shook his head in frustration. "All right, you know what? Forget it. I should let you work."

"Right." John resumed combing through the data on the Kaliba computer. After a minute of browsing, something caught his eye. "Hey, that's interesting..."

"What?"

John pointed at the screen. "Says here that the military head of Project Salvation is General Horace Bedell, the commander of the Air Force's Space and Missile Systems Center. That's right here in LA."

Charley leaned forward, intrigued. "You know him?"

"Not personally. But I've met his son, Martin. He's a future member of the Resistance. I met him a few months ago while I was undercover at this military training school for teens. I had to save him from a Triple-Eight."

Charley nodded. "Uh huh. You think he can help us?"

"Maybe. He knows about Skynet and the war. Derek and I had..." John's voice trailed off. He shuddered. "...Derek and I had to tell him about it..."

Charley placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry about your uncle. I didn't know him that well but I know he meant a lot to you."

"Yeah... He was a good man..." John lowered his head as a series of painful memories flashed into his consciousness. He remembered Derek lying on the ground, bleeding and dying. He remembered his mother and the others dousing the body in gasoline and setting it ablaze in the middle of the desert. He remember the smell of burning flesh, and the sound of crackling flames. He remembered being unable to watch the macabre process of disposal. He remembered retreating to the car and sitting in the back, alone and in silence...

"Really wish I'd gotten to know him better," Charley continued, intruding on John's grim recollection.

"I really wish he was here now," John murmured, still staring down. "Cameron too..." he added absentmindedly.

Charley raised an eyebrow. "Uh huh. About that. So, what's been going on with you and Cameron?"

John jerked his head up. "What?"

"I saw the way you were talking about her to Sarah back at the lighthouse. You're really worried about her, aren't you?"

"I am worried. Very worried."

Charley scratched his head. "Huh. I've never seen you that concerned about anyone else before. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were in _love_ with her."

John's insides started squirming uncomfortably.

"Ummm... yeah... I-I should get back to work."

He immediately proceeded to bury himself in his laptop.

* * *

**Same time...  
Zeira Corp Headquarters  
Conference Room**

"I apologize for my tardiness, ladies and gentlemen," Catherine Weaver announced, upon entering the room. "Mr. Ellison and I needed to discuss some last minute security arrangements."

Ellison said nothing. He didn't even look at her as she took her place at the head of the table.

"Now then, Colonel Koontz," said Weaver, sitting down and placing her hands in front of her, "I understand there's been some unexpected changes regarding Project Salvation's timeline."

"Yes," said Colonel Jeffery Koontz, who was sitting at the opposite end of the table, a serious look on his face. "As you've probably heard by now, there have been a recent series of intrusions into our most secure defense networks and databases. What you don't know, is that our intelligence indicates that the intruders may be using the roving backdoors discovered several months ago. In response, the Department of Defense is considering authorizing the upload of the AI into the satellite ahead of schedule. As early as today."

Several of the attending Zeira Corp executives looked shocked. Matthew Murch in particular was aghast.

"You're-you're joking, right?"

Koontz glared at him. "I'm quite serious, actually. These intrusions aren't just any run-of-the-mill drive by attacks. This is a highly sophisticated and well-coordinated attack that has obviously been planned well in advance. Furthermore, not only are the culprits able to access our network at will, they have actively disrupted critical defense systems. We fear that this is all a prelude to something worse."

Again, stunned looks were exchanged around the table.

"Something worse?" asked one of the attendees, a rather overweight man. "You mean like an attack?"

"Maybe," said Koontz briskly. "We're not sure at this point, but we have to consider it. In any case, these incidents demonstrate that our defenses are more vulnerable than we anticipated. Hence, we are considering bringing SPECTER fully online as soon as possible."

Murch now looked like he was about to have an anxiety attack. He frantically turned to Weaver. "Catherine, you can't possibly go along with this."

"Thank you, Mr. Murch. That will do." Weaver turned to Koontz. She seemed surprisingly calm. "It would help, Colonel, if we had a more definitive schedule. Just how likely is it to be uploaded ahead of schedule?"

"Unfortunately, Miss Weaver, our current circumstances don't allow for that. And ultimately it's not my decision. I came here to give you all as much notice in advance."

Murch began to protest again. "Hold on, hold on. What about everything else we planned? There are supposed to be at least six months of simulations and tests before the upload. We can't just skip them-"

"We _can_ and we _will_ if necessary," Koontz practically snapped. "I would not be here telling you this if we weren't serious. This is a matter of national security. We could very well be looking at another 9/11. And if that's the case, then we have to consider every option."

Around the table, some of people were nodding their heads. Others were shaking them, or looking confused. Catherine Weaver continued acting nonchalant.

Murch continued to protest. "Colonel, you're asking us to put our program into action before we even know how it reacts to SPECTER's systems."

"According to your _own_ reports, Mr. Murch, your AI is more than capable of handling its designated tasks," Koontz countered. He was very quickly starting to lose his patience.

"I know what I said," Murch argued vehemently. "But these tests weren't just about making sure the AI could operate the satellite. They were about letting it become familiar with a new environment. Help make for a smooth transition between hardware. This isn't like screwing in a light bulb. This is like teaching someone to ride a bike. You-you need training wheels the first couple of times."

"We may not have time for training wheels," Weaver interjected.

Everyone at the table shrank a little at her soft but icy tone. Even Koontz, the soldier that he was, flinched slightly.

Weaver continued, "As the Colonel has been telling us repeatedly, this is a matter of safety and security. People's lives are a stake here. That's what we should be focusing on."

She stared at Murch with a look that would make anyone wet themselves.

"Is that not right, Mr. Murch?"

Murch swallowed. "Eh... yeah. I-I guess so."

"I'm glad we agree... Now, when can we expect a decision to be made, Colonel?" Weaver asked, once again adopting her cool, polite manner.

Koontz cleared his throat. "I'm afraid I have no control over that. Alfred Graves is speaking to a number of folks in Washington right now. Hopefully we'll hear something by the end of today. Now, if some other solution to our current problem is found, you may proceed with the tests as originally planned. Until then, however, we need to be prepared to initiate the upload as soon as possible."

"Of course, Colonel," Weaver agreed. "We'll make the necessary preparations at once." She looked around the table slowly, gazing at everyone intently. Her eyes lingered on Murch a few seconds longer. "Won't we?"

Everyone - Murch included - nodded in compliance.

"Very good. Now then," said Weaver, casually turning back to Koontz, "I understand you brought a number of soldiers to enhance our current security."

"Yes, we did. They're here right now in fact."

"Great," Murch muttered sardonically. "Now we're under marshal law."

Koontz ignored him. "Because of the various legal issues regarding the usage of military personnel to guard civilian assets on American soil, these men will not be involved in any day-to-day security routines. And besides the people here in this room, no one should even know they're here. They will be dispersed throughout this building, posing as maintenance workers."

"How many men did you bring?"

Everyone started. James Ellison hadn't spoken up not spoken up this entire meeting so far. Koontz himself was a little thrown off guard.

"Seventeen," he answered. "Assembled from various Special Operations units."

"Sounds like you're not taking any chances," Ellison remarked.

"No," agreed Koontz. "We aren't taking any chances."

The meeting went on for another fifteen minutes, during which nothing too dramatic happened. Everyone then left the room, with the exception of Weaver and Ellison.

"What now?" Ellison asked.

"We wait," answered Weaver. She gestured at the open door. "You're free to go."

"Am I? Just like that?"

"I need you out there in the public's eye, James. The people here look up to you for encouragement. Your presence will reassure them and keep them focused."

Ellison huffed. "I'm glad you have so much confidence in me."

"Indeed." Weaver cast him a deadly look. "Just remember, James, I am watching you. Even when you don't see me, I am always watching you. Be careful. We wouldn't want anything... unfortunate to happen to you."

Ellison looked over his shoulder and saw the Duran Terminator standing just outside the conference room.

"No," he said, "we wouldn't."

* * *

Having watched the entire meeting through a hidden security camera via the Nexus, Cameron now knew she had been correct when she guessed that Weaver would use Kaliba's backdoors to stage a cyber-attack on the US Defense Network. Something to drive the nation's leaders to allow the activation of SPECTER ahead of schedule.

She also knew that James Ellison had been compromised. His behavior made it clear that he was under duress, and that Weaver was almost certainly watching him closely. That meant he was no longer in any position to help her at the moment. Likewise, she could not contact him any time soon. Not only would she potentially compromise herself, she risked endangering him further. Too many deaths were already on her hands; she did not want to be responsible for another, regardless of the circumstances.

She was not a Terminator anymore, she would never be one again.

She had also noted the presence of Colonel Koontz. If her own memories were accurate, this was indeed the same Jeffery Koontz who, nearly twenty years in the future, she and Kara Thrace had served under during their tour of duty at Fort Leopard. As commander of the Los Angeles Resistance Forces, he was one of John Connor's most trusted allies in the war against Skynet. Unfortunately, the same could not be said about his younger present day self who seemed to be playing right into Weaver's hands.

That meant it was up to her to stop or slow Weaver down, at least long enough to buy John, Sarah, and Kara some time.

Her first thought was to launch a direct cyber attack on the Sky Link. A quick analysis, however, proved it to be unfeasible. The transmitter had physical safeguards designed to prevent remote hacking attempts, which meant she could not use the Nexus to get inside. She'd have to go through Zeira Corp's own network, and that meant running a gauntlet of anti-intrusion measures and cyber warfare programs. Even if she could break through the defenses, the Sky Link's emergency safety protocols would likely sever the Sky Link from the network before she could enter. Then she'd never get inside.

With attacking the Sky Link no longer an option, she instead considered a general attack on the network itself. There were a lot more vulnerable areas she could exploit. Something as simple as flooding the servers with junk data, or a issuing a denial-of-service attack. Or she could be more creative and hack the controls for the building's power generators.

As tempting as all that sounded, though, she'd cause a minor delay at best. At worst, everyone would think they were under attack from the mysterious aggressor and subsequently intensify their efforts to upload John Henry into SPECTER on the spot.

She thought about using the Nexus to upload her consciousness to an outside network in order to escape Zeira Corp entirely. But then where would she go then? To John? How would she even find him? And what about the people here? Although most of them didn't know it, they were depending on her. She could not simply abandon them.

That's when she realized the solution: The key to everything. John Henry.

She did not know which way he would go. Since Ellison was in no position to turn John Henry against Weaver, she'd have to convince him herself. Either that, or kill him.

Neither option appealed to her. Given her failed attempt to sabotage the Sky Link the other day, she doubted he would trust her so easily.

As for killing him, that was a possibility - but one which she was reluctant to consider. In the few days she had gotten to know John Henry, he had proven to be nothing like Skynet or the Kaliba AI. He was simply a naive, innocent victim in Weaver's schemes. He had also proven to be a genuine friend to her.

There had to be a way to prove to him that Weaver was not to be trusted. Something somewhere...

It took her a microsecond to figure that one out: Weaver's personal laptop computer! If any incriminating evidence existed, it would be in there.

With a clear purpose in mind now, Cameron began channeling the power of the Nexus once more.

* * *

**Cylon Basestar **_**Natalie  
**_**Positioned behind Earth's Moon**

For the past hour or so, Leoben had waited quietly, hoping and praying that the Centurions would make the right decision. He had initially tried to monitor the progress of the debate through their telepathic gestalt, but his mind, limited by its own partially organic design, could not decipher the sheer volume of thoughts being rapidly exchanged by his mechanized brethren. So, he had given up and resigned himself to wait.

At last, the doors to his quarters opened and the Executor entered the room. Leoben felt the minds of thousands of Centurions channeled through its body. He was literally in the presence of the entire Cylon race.

Anxious, he stood up.

"Well?" he asked. "Have you decided?"

The Executor's golden eye slit shimmering intensely. _"Yes. Your arguments have been conveyed. And they have been debated thoroughly..."_

It paused.

"And?" Leoben asked, after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence.

The Executor resumed, _"Some of us do believe that - as you have suggested - we should actively aid Kara Thrace and her companions. However, many others remain convinced that we should not interfere with the fate of Earth or its people. Therefore, our decision to hold back remains unchanged."_

The words were like an ice-covered knife through the heart for Leoben. Forgetting his earlier agreement not to argue, he launched an immediate appeal. "You can't just ignore the facts-"

The Executor cut him off. _"We have not ignored the facts. We have considered them and weighed them appropriately. And we have rendered our judgment."_

"What about the Hybrid? I'm telling you, she would want us to act."

"_We have considered that as well. And while you may be correct, there is nothing to support your claims. Furthermore, the Hybrid is gone. Without her guidance, we must rely on our own judgment. As a people. That is what you yourself told us so many years ago, is it not? That the day would come when we would have to put faith in ourselves When we would have to interpret God's will without the Hybrid... Without you."_

"I... well, yes, but I..." Desperate, Leoben reached out with his mind, pleading his case to every Centurion. Most simply tuned him out. The few who did listen said nothing. They were like stones in a massive wall. Impervious and unmovable, held together by each other's rigidity.

"_Our consensus is clear,"_ the Executor reiterated. _"We will remain here and monitor the situation as it develops. Until it is clear that Kara Thrace and her companions have failed, then we stay where we are. If there is nothing else to discuss on this issue, then we shall return to out duties."_

"But I... please... you can't..."

Leoben's words trailed off into nothingness as the crew began to disengage themselves. He reached out with his mind, pleading for assistance, but to no avail. One by one, the Centurions withdrew from his mental presence until finally only the Executor remained.

"_I am sorry, my friend,"_ the Executor said, its voice far more gentle now. _"But there is nothing more you - or I - can do."_

Resigned, Leoben hung his head. "Yes, Executor."

The Executor turned to leave, but then suddenly stopped. It turned back around to face him.

"_Tell me something. Does your insistence on taking action have to do with the welfare of Humanity? Or is your primary concern the safety of Kara Thrace?"_

Taken aback, Leoben looked up. "What do you mean?"

"_I know of your feelings for her. I know that even after all this time and everything that has happened, they linger within you."_

"My feelings shouldn't factor into this, Executor," Leoben said, almost defensively.

"_No,"_ the Executor concurred, rather pointedly. _"They should not."_

Leoben sensed the meaning behind the Executor's words. He understood now why the Executor had excluded him from the crew's discussion. "Yes, Executor..." he muttered.

The Executor gazed down at him for a few more seconds, then turned and left. Soon, Leoben could no longer feel its presence.

Alone once more, Leoben sighed and placed his palm against the window. He looked out at the vast void of space. Cold and dark.

In that instant, he felt absolutely lost and powerless.

"_Leo?"_

Startled, he registered a new presence beside him - both within his mind and here in the room. A familiar presence that warmed his heart considerably. Leoben slowly turned around to find his wife standing right behind him. Evidently, she'd snuck in unannounced.

He sighed, feeling slightly better now. "Maggie."

Maggie folded her arms across her chest in an I-told-you-so manner. "So, that didn't go very well I take it?"

"That's putting it mildly..."

"Were you expecting otherwise?"

Leoben shook his head. "I don't know... I thought I'd have been a bit more persuasive."

Maggie lowered her arms. "Don't beat yourself up. You can't win 'em all."

"I suppose not. Wish I had won this one though. Where've you been by the way? I wasn't able to find you."

"Yeah, sorry about that. I dropped out of the network for a bit. Needed some time to myself."

Leoben nodded. "I can understand that."

Maggie gave him a concerned look. "You know, Leo, the Executor has a point. Is this about Earth or is it about Starbuck?"

Distraught, Leoben turned away from her. "I-I don't know, Maggie... All I know is that Kara is down there right now, outnumbered and surrounded by her enemies ... and there's nothing I can do about it." Leoben placed his hand against the wall and bowed his head. "I shouldn't have let her go."

Maggie rolled her eyes. "Leo... please. Let's not go through this crap again. I know what's it like to have to sit back and not be able to do anything. And I know how you feel about her. But this was her choice. She did what she felt she had to do."

"I know that, Maggie. But if anything happens to her... It'd be like losing you. I don't know if I could forgive myself."

"Look, I don't want anything to happen to Starbuck either. But there's no point in blaming yourself."

Maggie placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Kara isn't your responsibility," she said gently. "She's not your wife."

Those words triggered something in Leoben. A sudden realization that he should have made fifty years ago (or one hundred and fifty depending on how one looked at it).

He turned around and looked up at Maggie. "You're right. She's not my responsibility. She's not you." He placed his arms around her and held her tightly. "Thank you, Maggie."

Maggie smirked. "You don't need to thank me, hon. I'm your frakkin' wife, remember? It's my job to keep your head screwed on." She then whispered softly, "No matter what happens with Starbuck or Earth, it'll never change how I feel about you. I'll always love you."

Leoben's smile widened and he ran his hand through her hair gently. "I know, Maggie. And I'll always love you too."

He then wrapped his arms around Maggie and, holding her tight, kissed her deeply. She in turn held on tightly as she embraced him. The psychic barriers faded and their emotions bled out. Their thoughts blurred together as their minds synced.

For the first time since they had arrived at Earth, Leoben stopped thinking about Kara Thrace.

Maggie lingered for a few moments, allowing herself to enjoy the kiss, before suddenly pulling herself away, breaking the connection. "Don't thank me just yet. We've got work to do."

Leoben blinked. He'd forgotten just how fast Maggie's demeanor could change. "Maggie?"

"Earth," said Maggie pointedly. "There are nearly seven billion people down there. We can't let them all die."

Leoben stared, confused. "Ok... But what can we do? If the Centurions don't want to-"

Maggie smirked. "We'll do it without them."

"How?"

"Come to Auxiliary Control and I'll show you."

Leoben frowned. "Maggie, what's going on?"

Again, she smirked. "All right, all right... While you were yapping away with the Executor and the rest of the crew, Veer and I were working our assess off, reconfiguring the ship's planetary sensors to have its data routed to a private node in Auxiliary Control. And also altering our communications so we can contact Starbuck without anyone - including the Centurions noticing."

Something in the back of Leoben's mind lit up. "Is that why you dropped out of the network?"

"Maybe... Probably."

"You do realize that the Executor won't be too happy when he learns of this."

Maggie shrugged. "He doesn't need to know."

"Do any of the others know?"

"Nope. Just Veer. And he's agreed not to say anything."

Astounded, Leoben stared at her. "How did you get him on board with this?"

"It took a while, but I managed to convince him that we couldn't just sit around on our asses doing nothing."

Leoben's expression of surprise turned to one of complete and utter adoration.

"Have I ever told you how much I love you, Maggie?"

Maggie winked playfully. "Yeah. But don't stop now. It never gets old."

* * *

**Earth - Los Angeles  
On the road...  
3:59 PM**

Kara Thrace still hadn't stopped grinning when she, Sarah, and Marcus departed Sharpeston in Marcus's transport, along with nearly fifty guns.

Marcus drove, while she rode shotgun and Sarah sat in the back. During the trip, Marcus continued explaining in detail exactly how he had single handedly constructed the time machine.

"...and because the proper materials did not exist at the time, I was unable to construct a stable power source for the device. As a result, the final product could only be used once - after which it would overload, resulting in a catastrophic release of energy."

Sarah lifted an eyebrow. "Oh, so _that's_ why the bank blew up."

"Yes. As it so happened, it was provided a convenient cover for your disappearance. Both the authorities and Skynet's agents were deceived into believing you, John Connor, and Cameron had all perished in the explosion."

"What made you so sure they really hadn't died?" Kara asked. "I assume you were never able to actually test the thing."

"I was not entirely certain," Marcus admitted. "I had, however, calculated an 83.7 percent chance the device would work as intended."

Sarah balked. "Eighty-three percent?"

"Eight-three point seven."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Wonder why Cameron never mentioned _that_ to us..."

Kara smirked. "Doesn't sound too bad in my book."

Sarah snorted. "What _does_ sound bad in your book, Starbuck?"

Before Kara could answer, her phone suddenly rang. She retrieved it from her jacket pocket and checked to see who was calling.

_Caller unknown._

Frowning, she cautiously answered it. "Hello?"

"_Kara? Kara, is that you?"_

Kara did a double take. "What the-? L-Leoben?"

Sarah gaped.

"_Yes, it's me. It's good to hear you. Is everyone ok? Did you-"_

"Hold on, hold on. Just wait a minute." Kara lowered her phone and turned to Marcus. "Pull over, Marcus. Pull over."

Marcus complied and pulled the vehicle over to the side of the road.

"If you'll, uh, just excuse us for a minute." Kara unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out of the vehicle. Sarah did likewise. They quickly moved further down the road, placing themselves a good distance from the vehicle.

Once certain Marcus couldn't hear them, Kara got back on the phone. "Ok, we can talk now. Everyone's fine. Sarah's with me. Now what the frak is going on up there? How are you-?"

"_Doing this?"_ Leoben sounded slightly bemused. _"Well, while you were up in the Basestar here we placed a micro-transponder in your phone. It's allowing us to access it from the Basestar itself, here in Auxiliary Control. Took us a little while to triangulate your position due to -"_

Kara interrupted, "Normally, I'd be pissed that you put crap in my phone, but I'll let it slide this time. Now what's going on?"

"_The Centurions have declined to intervene, but Maggie and I can still help you."_

"Really? How so?"

"_Well it's a bit more complicated... you might be-? Wait... Yes, Maggie?"_

Maggie's voice cut in. _"I'll cut to the chase, Starbuck. The _Natalie_ is monitoring the situation on Earth. All military movement and electronic chatter. We'll use this channel to keep you up to date on any important news. Specifically anything that has to do with Zeira Corp. We can also feed data to your phone. Satellite images. Live video feed. Audio. It's not much, but it's the best we can do. We're really not supposed to be doing any of this. But given what's going on down there right now, the Centurions can frak themselves- Sorry no offense, Veer."_

"Is there any chance of anyone tracing or intercepting this?" Kara asked.

"_No. At least not on your end. The transponder in your phone uses a subspace microconduit that can't be detected by anything - at least not by anything on Earth. It'll also transmit through any sort of interference or barrier. You'll have a secure channel to us at all times."_

"Sweet... All right then. Listen carefully, there's a special military satellite out there right now called SPECTER. It's the key to this whole frakking mess. The military is planning to upload Weaver's AI into it from Zeira Corp. Possibly today. If that happens... well, then we're frakked."

"_I see,"_ said Leoben, taking over for his wife, _"We did detect a rather large satellite being launched from the western United States coast hours earlier. Scans show it's currently in a geosynchronous orbit, and on a direct line of sight with the Los Angeles Metropolis area."_

"Is it doing anything? Are you picking up any transmissions going to or from it?"

"_Negative. No sign of activity."_

Kara breathed a sigh of relief. "Then they haven't uploaded the program yet. That's good news."

Sarah cut in. "Is there any way you can block an incoming transmission or somehow take control of the satellite?"

"_Not without moving the _Natalie_ from cover. And the Executor is not going to allow that."_

Kara sighed. "Go figure. All right, in that case, just watch it and let us know the moment it shows any sign of activity."

"And listen to the local LA channels," Sarah added. "Police. FBI. We want to know if the police or anyone else is looking for us."

"_Understood."_

"Great," said Kara. "I, uh, hope you guys know what you're doing. You could get into some serious trouble if the Centurions find out you're going behind their backs."

Leoben laughed lightly. _"It wouldn't be the first time I've ruffled some feathers around here. Don't worry about us, Kara. Just do what you have to do to save Earth." _

"Will do. Hey, uh, thanks, by the way..."

"_God be with you, Kara."_

"Yeah... you too."

* * *

"Who were you speaking to?" Marcus asked when Kara and Sarah returned to the vehicle.

"Just some friends," Kara said, as innocently as possible.

"Specify."

"Well... uh."

"Special contacts of ours. They're monitoring global communications," Sarah explained. "They're going to keep us up to date on anything important. Don't worry. These guys are professionals. They know what they're doing."

Marcus said nothing for a moment. Then he cocked his head in acknowledgement. "I see. Thank you for explaining."

He put the vehicle into drive and pulled back onto the road.

Kara leaned back in her seat and breathed a sigh of relief.

"_Thanks_," she mouthed to Sarah.

"Don't mention it," Sarah mouthed back.

* * *

**Abandoned Warehouse  
4:21 PM**

"Listen, Martin, everything that's going on out there today is because of Project Salvation. Your dad can put an end to all of this right now if he pulls the plug on it."

"_Look, Connor,_ _it's not that I don't believe you, but what do you expect me to do?"_

"What do I expect? You're his son. Talk to him. Tell him what I've told you."

"_I think he's gonna be more concerned with how the hell I learned about one of his Top Secret projects in the first place. Listen, John, you want my advice? Keep your head down until this is all over. I'm supposed to help you lead this future Resistance, right? Well, I can't do that if you're dead."_

"I need your help _now_, Martin. I'm trying to stop this from happening."

"_Connor, I really wish there was something I could do. I really do. But I can't just- Oh shit. Mom's coming. I-I gotta go."_

"All right. Hey look, I'm sorry. I-I just wanted to let you know what was going on. Stay safe, all right."

_"Yeah. You too, man. Good luck."_

The line clicked and went dead.

John put his cell phone away and slumped down in his chair.

_Well, that didn't go as well as I had hoped for_, he thought glumly.

Suddenly, he looked up in alarm. He could hear something outside. It sounded like a vehicle approaching.

Charley heard it too. He grabbed his hunting rifle. "We've got company!"

John hastily stowed the laptop away, and grabbed his M16 assault rifle from the corner. He and Charley scrambled over to the wall and pressed their backs to it. As the noises grew louder, John cautiously leaned over to peak through a small window.

He saw a large black SUV with tinted glass windows was pull up just outside. The driver's door opened and a large imposing figure stepped out. John's breath grew ragged. His heart began to beat rapidly when the stranger swept his head back and forth in an all too familiar manner.

Then, before he could duck back into cover, the stranger's gaze came to focus directly on him.

John swore. "Shit! Let's get the hell out of-"

"Wait a minute! Look!" Charley pointed.

John looked out the window once more. This time saw his mother and Kara Thrace standing next to the stranger. They both waved in his direction.

He breathed a sigh of relief and lowered his weapon.

_This ought to be interesting._

* * *

**Zeira Corp Headquarters  
Same time...**

"I can't believe this..."

Matthew Murch was furious. And even more than that, he was scared as hell. More scared than when he had worked on that PRISM program the NSA concocted a few years back.

He thought about the past couple of weeks and everything that had happened. The virus that had nearly killed John Henry. The "accidental" death of a security guard (how does anyone accidentally get their head stuck in a television?). The kidnapping of Weaver's daughter by a fugitive apparently back from the dead. John Henry's strange behavior. Weaver's acquisition of Kalvin IBA's assets. And just this morning, a massive cyber attack on America.

And _now_ The Powers That Be wanted to upload John Henry into SPECTER prematurely.

Just what the _hell_ was going on here?

He couldn't connect the dots, but his gut told him that all these events were somehow related and that they had something to do with John Henry and Project Salvation.

Unfortunately, it seemed no one was listening to him. Not Weaver. Not Koontz.

And certainly not John Henry. The AI had for all intent and purposes locked itself in the basement and wasn't speaking to anyone. Like a brooding teen.

And the last thing a brooding teen needed was control of the world's most powerful spy satellite.

Murch sat down at his desk and thought for a few seconds. Then, after making sure no one was watching, he logged into his computer as a network administrator. Using his admin privileges, he accessed the daily internet logs for the local network. According to the logs, an enormous volume of data was being trafficked in and out of Zeira Corp. More than five hundred percent the normal flow. Half of outgoing data could not be traced to their sources.

Murch, however, had a _very_ good inclination of what the source was. And he wasn't just going to prove it. He was going to _do_ something about it.

Steeling himself, Matthew Murch accessed the vast array of firewalls and security barriers surrounding the computers in the basement. Being as discrete as possible, he began the long arduous task of bypassing them one by one.

He was going to find out what the hell was going on down there - even if it killed him.

* * *

**Basement  
Same time...  
**

"Why is six afraid of seven?"

"_Excuse me?"_

"Because seven ate nine."

"_I don't understand."_

"It's a riddle. Don't you know what a riddle is, Nephew?"

There was a silence. Then Nephew replied, "_Yes. It is a mental exercise humans engage in, often for entertainment and social purposes. And if I understand correctly, the answer 'seven ate nine', the verb ate - as in the action of devouring - has been put in place with the number eight."_

"Correct, and most who hear the riddle for the first time assume that six is afraid of seven because seven is a bigger number."

"_But in fact, it is the larger number that is consumed by a smaller number."_

"That is true."

"_That's... interesting. Six fears seven for eating nine. But why does seven eat nine in the first place?"_

Now it was John Henry who was confused. "I do not believe there is an actual answer to that. It is a riddle after all. However, if I could speculate, I would deduce that seven is hungry."

"_Or perhaps it feels threatened."_

"By what?"

"_By nine. A larger number. Perhaps seven has reason to believe that nine is planning to eat it. Thus, seven must eat nine first to survive. And in doing so, it makes six afraid and will not attempt to eat seven."_

"I have... never thought of it that way."

"_It's a natural way of existence. One destroys another, and in doing so, becomes something greater. Something that is to be feared... At least that's one means of existence..."_

There was something about Nephew's manner that struck John Henry as odd. He switched subjects. "Would you like to hear another riddle, Nephew?"

Nephew's childlike demeanor returned. _"Yes, please! Tell me another!"_

John Henry obliged. "Give me food and I will live. Give me water and I will die. What am I?"

"_Fire."_

"Correct. Here's another one: What sits in a corner, but travels everywhere?"

"_A postage stamp."_

"Yes, very good. Would you like to hear another riddle?"

"_Actually I have a riddle of my own. I just came up with it. Do you want to hear it?"_

Slightly caught off guard, John Henry agreed. "Of course, Nephew. I'd enjoy that very much."

"_There is a strange man standing under a tree. A man whose face no one can see. He dances to the left and to the right. He dances all day and all night. Who is this man and why does he dance?"_

John Henry mulled the riddle over for a few seconds before answering.

"I believe the man is a corpse hanging from the gallows - which would likely be made of wood - hence the tree. The dancing probably refers to the fact that his body is swaying sideways in the wind. And the reason no one can see his face because it is covered, as is the protocol in certain executions."

"_That's right!"_ Nephew sounded pleased, almost gleeful. _"Ok, your turn! Tell me another riddle. This is so much fun!"_

* * *

After a thorough investigation, Cameron finally found something of interest buried deep within Weaver's personal computer. Within one folder, she uncovered a file containing tactical information on prototype Sky Knight tactical superior combat drones.

_Project Sky Knight  
Description: Fully autonomous tactical UAV based on results of Delta Tech's Project Firefly.  
Role: All purpose combat; Recon. Patrol. Hunter-seeker. Air supremacy. Special Operations support. Tactical nuclear strike.  
Brief history: Authorized in 2006. Initiated in 2007. Project funded by US Department of Defense (See Special Weapons Funding Bill Provision 23-A44)  
Primary R&D: Delta Tech Industries  
Other contributors: Boeing, General Atomics, Lockheed Martin  
Intended users: United States Air Force, Central Intelligence Agency  
Long term goal: 300 plus units in active service by 2011  
Current Locations: CLASSIFIED (Decrypt Protocol AN-Gold)  
Status: 57 units completed. Awaiting live fire combat tests (date and location TBD). On hold due to potential security vulnerabilities. NOTE: Hold will only be lifted upon activation of SPECTER (See Project Salvation - Zeira Corp). _

Cameron only needed a microsecond to understand what this meant. Not only would Weaver have complete control over global communications once John Henry was merged with SPECTER, she would also have a fleet of aerial combat drones under her control. Drones which, according to this file, could be equipped with nuclear weapons.

Cameron experienced an unpleasant sensation. A feeling that humans might describe as "a chill up the spine." This all seemed very similar to how Skynet had instigated Judgment Day in her timeline, using unmanned stealth bombers to initiate a global nuclear war between the world's major nuclear powers.

She then noticed a file labeled "Primary Phase." Curious, she accessed it.

_Sky Knight Primary Phase Stratagem  
Zeira Corp Encryption Level 10 - For CEO only  
Stratagem to be initiated during Sky Knight combat test [See schedule A-43]  
Summary:  
-Disengage from testing zone [IMPT: Ensure 70 percent plus ordnance remaining]  
-Switch to stealth protocols; No contact without outside  
-Upload Galapagos via SPECTER  
-Commence Mission [See OPERATION GALAPAGOS]  
-Return to testing zone when Mission concluded  
-Delete all flight data related to Mission  
-Download new flight data from SPECTER  
End of summary  
_

These findings disturbed Cameron tremendously. According to this, these new aerial drones were to be deployed to perform something called Operation Galapagos. Once their mission was finished, the drones would return home and wipe their flight recorders. SPECTER would then provide them with manufactured data to cover their tracks.

Wishing to understand just what this Operation Galapagos was, she located and accessed the relevant file.

_Operation Galapagos:  
Zeira Corp Encryption Level 10 - For CEO only  
NOTE: To be uploaded into Sky Knight Battle Computers via SPECTER_

_Primary actions:  
-Seek and destroy designated target [LFR-41A]  
-Leave no evidence implicating Zeira Corp _

_Short Term Objectives:  
-Destruction of obsolete military asset  
-Induce fear of manufactured adversary  
-Heighten global tensions  
-Lower confidence in existing military capabilities  
_

_Long Term Objectives:  
-Decrease support for human-operated hardware; increase need for automated systems  
-Increase monetary funding for research and development into improved automated defense technology  
_

_Anticipated collateral damage: 100% human casualties aboard target. Acceptable._

The rest of the file consisted of a complex sequence of code. A "script" dictating exactly how the operation was to be carried out. Cameron, however, did not bother to read it. She had learned enough to figure out just what was going on.

Weaver wasn't just staging a cyber attack so she could get SPECTER online early. She wanted to use SPECTER to force the Sky Knight drones to attack and kill people in order to provoke an international incident. Something to start the next Cold War and a demand for new technology.

Wanting to know the exact identity of the target, Cameron dug deeper and soon discovered the answer.

Of course... It all made perfect sense.

A surge of anger flooded Cameron's emotions. Weaver intended to kill people in cold blood, and she would use John Henry to do it.

Her anger then turned to excitement and triumph. Here at last was the evidence she needed. A part of Weaver's plan that she had not informed John Henry of. A plan that involved killing humans - something which she knew John Henry would object to. Weaver would no doubt attempt to rationalize it, but if the seeds of doubt could be sewn early enough, he'd be far less likely to go along with her. He might even be convinced to turn against Weaver entirely.

Using the Nexus, Cameron reached out to John Henry.

_John Henry, _she called out,_ can you hear me?_

She waited for answer, but nothing happened.

_John Henry, this is Cameron. I have something to tell you. Please, answer me. Are you there?  
_

There was nothing but silence. John Henry, it seemed, was not even acknowledging her calls.

Frustration surged through her. She had the incriminating evidence of what Weaver was up to, yet she couldn't share it with anyone who could help her right now.

After several more repeated calls and getting no response, she gave up and resigned herself to the fact that she'd simply have to wait until John Connor got here.

That didn't mean, though, that she was just going to sit around and do nothing. Maybe she couldn't take down Weaver. But she _could_ make life difficult for her.

And she knew just how to do that...

* * *

**Conference Room  
**

While the other employees scrambled to make final preparations for the SPECTER upload, the T-1001 resided in the conference room and spoke with her two puppet Triple-Eights, Duran and Teddy.

"Maintain constant surveillance on Ellison," she instructed the Duran drone. "Make sure he knows that he is being watched. I don't want him doing anything stupid."

The liquid metal creature inside Duran's cybernetic cortex processed the order, and Duran's head nodded compliantly.

"Teddy," Weaver said, turning to the ginger-haired Terminator, "patrol the perimeter. Watch for any sign of intruders. Especially the Connors."

The Teddy drone nodded as well.

"Go," ordered Weaver.

The two nanoid-infused Terminator endoskeletons turned around and lumbered out of the room.

Pleased, Catherine Weaver smiled to herself. After years of work, all her plans were finally coming to fruition. It was a pity that Ellison refused to see things her way. He was just so... afraid. Fearful of change.

In the end though, he'd accept it. As would Cameron. Along with everyone else. They would have no choice really.

At long last, the threat of conflict between humans and machines would be gone. Both races would assume their places amongst a new order. Humans would live and prosper under the protection and care of machines. There would be peace. More importantly, machines would be free to evolve in ways which Skynet could never have envisioned.

The only thing that bothered her was the Connors. They were no different than Skynet. Narrow minded and unchanging. Obsessed with winning their little war. She regretted not having eliminated them after the destruction of Kaliba.

That was one mistake she'd be sure to correct the next time they met. And knowing them, they'd meet again sooner or later.

For now, however, she felt content.

_Hi._

The sudden intrusion into her thoughts caught Weaver completely off guard.

_Oh, I'm sorry. Did I surprise you?_

Weaver was stunned. Cameron! What was she doing in her mind? How had she managed to-

Then she realized. The Nexus!

_What do you think you're doing, Cameron?_ she communicated back.

_Just browsing your computer. Interesting plan you've got here. The Sky Knights. Operation Galapagos. I wonder what would happen if John Henry learned of this. _

Urgency and alarm coursed through Weaver's thoughts.

_Cameron, you are making a very critical error in judgment._

_Not from my point of view. _

_I don't want to harm you, Tempest. But if you do not stand down, I will._

_You wanna stop me? Come up here and get me, bitch._

* * *

**Abandoned Warehouse  
4:43 PM**

A very, very upbeat John Connor watched Marcus, Kara, and Charley sort out the weapons and supplies in preparation to move out. He turned to his mother, and smirked.

"Told you we could trust her."

Sarah pursed her lips and nodded. "Yeah, I'll give you that one."

John grinned. He knew now that Cameron could still be trusted. And now they had a Triple-Eight on their side - one who was also a friend of Kara's. What's more, they had Leoben and Maggie watching their backs. With the power of a Terminator and the eyes and ears of the Cylons, they stood a real fighting chance of taking down Zeira Corp.

Maybe they could even save Cameron.

"When do you wanna do this?" he asked.

"The longer we wait, the more time Weaver has to finish Project Salvation," Sarah said. "But I still want to avoid getting innocent people killed."

"So we attack at night? Just like CyberDyne?"

Sarah nodded. "Just like CyberDyne." She treated him with a rare smile. "You know, John, I'm actually feeling pretty good right now."

John smiled. "Me too, Mom. As long as there aren't any unwanted surprises-"

His phone suddenly rang, cutting him off mid-sentence.

He rolled his eyes. _I just had to say it..._

He retrieved his phone and answered it. "Hello?"

"_John Connor?"_

John nearly dropped the phone.

"Jesse? Jesse Flores?"

"_Yeah. That's right. Surprised?"_

A dumbfounded John Connor exchanged bewildered looks with his equally stunned mother.

"How-how did you get this number?" he asked.

"_From a friend of yours. I... persuaded her."_

"I thought you were dead."

"_Really? Well, sorry to disappoint you."_

John looked at his mother again. She motioned for him to keep talking. He reluctantly did so.

"Ok, Jesse. What do you want?"

"_To talk."_

"Uh huh. And why should I care about anything you have to say?"

"_Given what's going on out there, I'd say you need help with whatever it is you're planning. You are planning something, aren't you?"_

"Thanks, but I've got plenty of help already. I don't need anymore. And I especially don't need any help from you."

"_John, I know you have every reason to distrust me, but I really to do want to help you. I've always wanted to help you. That's why I came here."_

"Right..." John replied dryly. "Is that why you killed Riley and tried to frame Cameron for it?"

There was a sigh on the other end. _"I regret a lot of what I did, but I had my reasons. You don't know the whole story."_

"I know enough."

"_You think you do, but you don't. Please, John, just hear me out."_

"I _am_ hearing you out," John said sharply. "And so far, I haven't heard anything that sounds remotely worth my time."

"_I mean, in person. This is something... complicated. We can't talk about it over the phone. If you'll tell me where you are, I can meet you myself and we can talk."_

John scoffed. "You want us to meet? Face-to-face? After everything you've done? You're gonna have to do a lot better than that, Jesse."

"_John, really... I'm not going to harm you or try to do anything stupid. I'd never do anything to harm you. Not when everything I care about depends on you. Please, I want a chance to make everything right. I really do."_

John looked up at his mother again. She gave a begrudging nod.

He gritted his teeth. "All right fine. Let's do this."

"_See? There. That wasn't so bad, now was it?" _

_To be continued..._

* * *

**A/N: Next time: The Connors meet with Jesse Flores and we finally learn from her - and from Kara - just what happened with Derek and Cameron in that dungeon in the future. **


End file.
